"moving" on

So much has happened since we last talked, Internet! Let's see. What had happened last? I think it was that my crazy roommate turned off my Internet access and you just don't fuck with a girl's Internet.

After that, things happened really, really fast. After a couple of days of simmering and stewing and salting and then adding a dash of paprika, talking with my landlady, I decided to put in my 30 days notice, repercussions be damned. It was such a toxic situation and it was really eating me alive emotionally and psychologically. So on February 1st, I gave my notice to the apartment management and gave bitch roomie a copy (in an envelope left where she would she would find it, locked myself in my room with a chair against the door, and started to feel the tiniest bit happy.

It was like a tiny sliver of light let itself in. Each day has been exponentially better and better since.

I buckled down, started dating Pad Mapper, and found an apartment pretty damn fast. I had to sell my soul to afford it, not the place itself, which I can technically afford and will be saving tons of gas money because it's uber close to my work now, but just the costs of paying rent in two places, deposit, truck rental, etc.

All my money is gone, yo. But money is just money. Whomever said money can't buy happiness clearly never lived with my roommate. A little money can get you out of all kinds of shitsuck situations.

And I had a small hiccup, as always happens with these things, when the management at the new place ran my background check, the found two bad marks on my credit report (which of course shouldn't be there) and wanted to charge me double the deposit. I was like, UM WHAT NOW? Because my only debt should be my student loans and they can't count that against you unless you've defaulted.

So I ran credit reports from all three reporting services, something I'd just done two years before, aka when I moved from California to Oregon, and what do you know? There were two medical bills from a million years ago, from my hometown, and which I was completely unaware of and didn't show up on my report the last time. And did I mention they sent the bills to my mom's house? My crazy, hoarder mom? So those bills are probably still unopened under piles of piles of whatever the hell it is she piles. Sigh. They were also fairly small originally and I could have paid them easily at the time but right now, in the midst of my moving drama and because they've grown with interest, not so easy.

This is why life is fucked. Even when one tries to manage one's income and life in a semi-normal manner, shit like this pops up and tries to screw it all. You know? When I order a screw driver, this is not what I have in mind.

Never to the less, my new manager was a sweetheart and said if I cleared those off my report though, they could decrease my deposit. So I sold my backup soul and have to get it all paid off this week.

So remember above when I said I'm broke, I really mean it. I'm BROKE! Guess who needs to get her taxes done this week and is hoping for a decent return? This girl!

Anyway, I got into the apartment a week ago and moved everything I could all by my lonesome, including all my books (which are the bulk of my possessions, lemmetellya) and I think I lost 20 pounds last weekend, I swear. Then I pulled out my sleeping bag, my bedding, four pillows, and the pad from an Ikea chair, and made a nest for a bed. I brought Hobbes over and we've been staying here since.

Then I got a truck Saturday (and drove a big truck for the first time ever and I drove it like I boss!) and my very best friend, who has moved me like 3 times in the last 2 years, came over to help, along with my favorite coworker Mike and his girlfriend. And this is the best part and why I love good people. Mike just moved out from Boston not long ago and his grilfriend is in town visiting and she'd just gotten in Friday night at like midnght. So what did they do the next morning? They came over and helped me move. This is also the first time I'd met her. Truly awesome people.

On a side note, that new guy I've been dating, the one I met on that one random night? Yeah he said he was gonna help, which he offered to do and I didn't even ask, bee tee dubs, and then just completely flaked out. I got a text from him at like 5 pm or something saying sorry he flaked. Um, yeah. A little late now, buddy. Too bad too. I liked him, but darn it if I also like a little thing like courtesy and respect. Imagine that.

And look at me demanding to be treated well! See, a girl can get out of a toxic, destructive relationship and still reclaim a modicum of respect for herself. Proud of me? You should be.

Oh and I almost skipped a good part! The ex is out of town I guess so I went out to the old bar Friday night and met up with my (our, his) old friends and had a blast. I missed them all a ton more than I realized I guess. Anyway, it was great to see them and they were super sweet.

Back to the story (sorry this post is so rambly), I got all my furniture in yesterday and then unpacked until I passed out. I was really nice to sleep in my bed again, but in a place all my own where I feel safe emotionally. And it was completely delicious waking up this morning. I feel free. Ahhhhh!

I still have to go back and clean, but eh, whatevs. Worth it.

Did I mention my new place has a pool? I'm gonna be so popular this summer.

Photo of the Day: Just Hobbes

SO much is going on right now, all good thing, but I hardly have time to think let alone write a long post. But one will be coming. Some day. I promise.

In the meantime, please to enjoy this gorgeous photo I took of my Hobbes the other day. It's just been so damn sunny in Portland, what else could I do but subject my boy to yet another photo shoot?

happy-like

In the wake of a shitty week, I still have things that are making me happy.

In no particular order:

Rainy Portland Sunday mornings spent sleeping-in in my cozy, warm bed, dreaming of the night before and unreservedly fantasizing.

Great dates. With thus far great guys. Who are smart and too handsome to be so humble and great kissers too. And who are seemingly too well suited to me to be real.

Pizza places that serve gluten free pizza by the slice and have wifi. Oh, and a great happy hour every day of the week. Instant happiness.

Really sweet bartenders who remember my name and shave money off my tab. See also: finding new karaoke bars where I am destined to become a regular.

Cucumber white tea. A revelation that is.

Random strangers who hold the door open for me.

My best friends and family who even when only available by text or facebook, always boost my ego and send me endless love and support.

Great coworkers (and a great boss) who take me out for drinks when I'm stressed out about going home.

Hard cider. It's a gluten free salvation.

Nice dudes who, when like an idiot I drop my camera and break my flash, get it fixed for me without my even asking.

Did I mention the gluten free pizza?

Hoping I see said great guy again soon.

Mean Girls and other tales

Well, Internet, it seems I'm never meant to have an easy time of it. That sounds incredibly defeatist and incredibly selfish and I hate to play the martyr but it's been a struggle. This had been an especially hard week in regards to my living situation.

I keep trying to gain perspective, to remind myself that plenty of people live in worse situations, live in hiding, live in war zones, live on the streets. Plenty of people have it worse off but I've reached the point that that doesn't really help me feel better.

I can't even discuss all the details or go through how all this happened, partly because I'm so damned furious and upset and frustrated that I can't even discuss it without just exploding with emotion (and maybe I'll share more when I've got a little more distance from the situation), and partly because I don't even know how it happened.

One day my roommate just decided she hated me and so I just stayed out of her way and kept to myself, my tactic being: don't engage. But that didn't work for her. So I have been feeling pretty trapped. She won't leave me alone, she won't let me leave, and so I've pretty much reached my limits of tolerance. Sans any physical threat, I feel bullied. I haven't felt this picked on since I was 12 years old, I swear. 

But, as my bully in the 7th grade will probably tell you, I do have the capacity for abuse and bullying, BUT, I have a limit that I can take and then I just snap. You know how, in A Christmas Story, Ralphie finally snaps and beats up his bully?

That's how I felt in the 7th grade when Dionne told the whole school I stuffed my bra and they all called me Charmin and then I kicked her ass. And that's how I feel right now. Only I probably won't beat her up unless she hits me first.

I was pretty much at my last straw this week anyway. Then I came home to a note last night announcing she'd canceled our internet service and she'd taken the modem and was signing up for her own internet and I'd be on my own.

THAT pissed me off. She knows how much I rely on the internet. I watch my TV shows online. I write my blog. I can do social media from my phone but without wifi, I use too much data that way to afford it.She knew, however much she protests this, that she was screwing me over. That I'd come home on a Friday, ready for a weekend, to no internet and be fucked.

THEN! Then I took a deep breath and tried to just sign up for my own service. But because of a ton of red tape and shit that I won't even get into, I can't get signed up for internet, not at least for a couple weeks. I'm fucked. I tried to do hotspot on my phone but can't. I looked into a hotspot service but it's insanely expensive. So I'm fucked. Completely fucked.

And that was my last limit.  But I am done with being a doormat. Done. She can kiss my motherfucking non-white-girl-ass. If she thought that would motivate me to not be a bad roommate, she's delusional because I have no concern for her whatsoever anymore. I'm not going top be spiteful or plan revenge (though I have a few ideas lemmetellya) but I'm just not going to go out of my way to be the quiet, conscientious roommate I am. She has no idea how good she had it before.

And I have a few cards in my back pocket that I haven't played yet. Hopefully I'll have good news for y'all soon.

In case you're wondering, I'm writing this from a coffee shop. Which is okay for the short term, and I hope they don't catch me downloading tv shows. Evil laugh.

And maybe this is motivation to go to the gym more and not go home at least. Look at me, still trying to find a bright side.

In other news: I have a date tonight with that guy from last weekend. Send good vibes our way that he's as awesome as I suspect. I'm very hopeful about this one. If I find my way to a coffee shop tomorrow, I'll give you all an update.

This is a story that should be told from the beginning

I had a whole different blog post planned for this weekend. But then Life, that scamp, threw another wrench in my plans. Well played, Life. Well played.

Wait. I should back up.

I had planned on blogging about 2 things.

One, I've been having a really rough time in my living situation, which I've kept mum about for the last month or so because I was afraid of crazy bitch backlash, but I was feeling like I didn't let it out I might just explode. But for now, that post will have to happen another day.

Two, I've been feeling really good about completing my breakup recovery, but also feeling like I need some time to myself before really dating again. Truth is, even though I do want a positive, serious relationship which will lead to things like marriage, family, blah blah blah, I'm pretty terrified of getting sucked into another toxic relationship. And that's a good fear, methinks. I don't want to just jump into something blindly without doing a little work on why I let the last tool suck the life out of me.

Therefore I was fully prepared to take myself off the relationship market (though not the sex market. I'm not that much of a masochist anymore) for an indeterminate amount of time.

Cut to last night. Because of the aforementioned shit storm of a cold war at my house, I really wanted to get out of the house and have a little fun. But everyone I know was busy or not returning any of my advances (hehehe). And I may not have mentioned this, but I don't go to my old fave karaoke bar anymore. I'm fine with that. So many people have told me that's dumb because if I like the place, I shouldn't give it up because of one toolbag fucktard. But I really don't want to see the ex in anyway and I wouldn't have any fun there now, so why would I do that to myself in the name of taking a stand or something? I wouldn't have fun so why go?

I thought I'd go out on my own, which is something I never do because while I like doing things on my own, I'm always afraid of becoming that girl in the Date Rape song by Sublime. I am the product of my generation after all.

Anyway, there used to be this awesome lesbian slash karaoke bar by my old house, but last I heard it had changed ownership and names. Still, I thought maybe I'd venture over and see if the place was still cool and lesbian and maybe even sing a little karaoke, which, as you might have gathered, I totally missed. I do love my karaoke and have yet to find a new karaoke home.

But alas! I get to the bar and it's closed. Like gone. Like I'm pretty sure homeless people squat there now. Bum to the mer.

So I drive around for a bit, trying to figure out where to go. I decide to drive back toward my house in an area where I know quite a few bars are and I decide to stop at one I'd been to maybe once forever ago. But it's slightly familiar and I know they serve cider so it's the winner.

I take the only free bar stool and order a Strongbow (which are STRONG and therefore live up to the name and so are alright in my book) and proceed to just chill. Next to me is this very drunk, very loud dude who is reminding me so very much of my ex. Which doesn't bode well for him because I'm pretty sure he's interested in me.

But it turns out that he's there with a whole group of friends and, the next thing I know, I'm bonding with the lone girl in the group and she so gets me and then we're migrating to a karaoke bar down the street and I'm having a blast and I really like this new bar and I sing a couple songs and I'm talking all night to this really cute, sweet, smart, polite guy in their group (who is so unlike my ex in all the best ways) who I start to really like and we exchange phone numbers and he walks me to my car and gives me the best kiss I've had in a long, long, long time.

And I drove home on a cloud. Not literally because it wasn't that foggy last night. I had butterflies for the first time in a couple years. And who knows? Maybe this guy won't call. But I made new friends and found a new bar. And maybe he will call and maybe something great will come out of it. I just know I'm excited and I missed that feeling.

Well played, Life. 

Photo of the Day: Portland's version of snow

It snowed for 2 whole minutes the other day in my neighborhood so of course I ran outside to get lots of photos, which ended up just looking like raindrops because it was so wet the damn snow wouldn't stick. Le sigh.

calling me crazy

Hello, my lovelies. How are you this January day? I'm sitting cozily, wishing it would snow and finally finding a time to write.

I've had this post brewing in my head for almost a week now. Several posts actually, but I've been a busy chiquita. In good ways mostly and new things are also brewing and frothing but which I can't talk about yet. I hate keeping secrets from the Internet, but what else is a girl to do?

Insert brilliant segue here. 

Before I get into the meat of this post, a little prologue:

I know I keep writing about my last relationship. First, this does not mean I spend all of my daily life obsessing about it. But it is something I'm analyzing and so the receptacle of that analysis is going to be my writing and therefor you have the luck of digesting that endless bile that is my love life. Sorry about that, but I promised myself that I'd be as honest as possible in my writing and so here we are.

Also, I'm feeling pretty good. I'm in the home stretch of this relationship recovery and I feel pretty damn happy most days. Any residual anger I have is no longer about the breakup itself (mostly. it still chaps my hide that I put up with all his shit and he had the nerve to dump me. but whatevs.), but now I have to work through some anger at losing six months of my life to that fucktard. I know you shouldn't regret any experience because it makes you who you are blah blah blah. But that doesn't erase this resentment I have toward him for the train wreck we were (which I'll get more into in a sec). It won't last forever, but for now I'm resentful. Just how it is. And I'm a big believer in allowing yourself to feel whatever you're feeling. So there.

How to the every loving ever, I feel at this point like I can begin to look at the relationship less emotionally and learn from it, which I think is important if I want to date seriously again.

Which brings me to this article I found on Stumble the other night. I was just stumbling around the Internet, which I'm wont to do, putting off slumber, and this hit me square in the face, slapped me with its truth my life. Go read it. I'll wait.

Now a little backstory:

When I was 25, I was in a relationship with a boy we'll call J. It was the most toxic relationship and he was the most manipulative male I'd ever and have ever known. Long story short, he found me at one of the lowest points in my life (loss of a career, loss of a best friend, then the death of a boyfriend), he moved into my life, and he took it over. And before I knew what had hit me, we were living together and engaged and felt like a trapped animal. He manipulated me, convinced me I was crazy and cruel and controlling (all things I now know he was) and it worked. I believed him for a long time.

I eventually found my wits and broke up with J. And I've always said since I wouldn't let that happen again. After lots of therapy and working through a whole carousel of baggage, I really thought I wouldn't.

Ahhhh if life were so easy. Cut to 6 years later.

HP was not the same as J. He was actually nicer (J once told me he hated me, for example) and not really controlling (though we did always do what he wanted to do). He never rushed me into an engagement or anything, though looking back, we were in a serious relationship awfully fast. And the first 2 months were pretty blissful. You could call it honeymoon period, blah blah blah, but it ended awfully abruptly (instead of a slow cooling off that usually happens in relationships) and I think I know a big reason why but I'm still too decent a person to expose why on here.

He was manipulative, especially when it came to arguing. Plus I think he was sensitive too. He couldn't hear any kind of discussion and not turn it into an argument. He had to win and I often wondered if he even cared about what he was arguing or if he just wanted to win. He could deflect any comment back on me and convince me he was right. He would call me crazy, illogical, overemotional. His way was always the right way and he'd talk to me like I was a stupid child. This last part hurt more than the crazy, I think, because I value my intelligence so highly. It's one area I always fought back on even if I never really won.

It got so frustrating to argue in circles, especially because I'm not a fighter. I prefer to walk away when I'm angry or upset, cool off, think about what I'm feeling, and then discuss it later. In the moment? I freeze up. I don't have quick responses or witty retorts. So if I felt backed into a corner, often my only response was just to cry, which was just visceral emotion. You know that feeling where your throat gets tight and you just can't say a word without crying it out? That. It's not like I wanted to. But the dude made me feel like a child and so I acted like a child.

It finally got to the point where I got so tired of this act that I'd just stop talking at all. Wouldn't share how I was feeling, wouldn't fight back, wouldn't discuss anything that might be taken wrong and thrown back at me. So I'd keep my mouth shut, shut down completely. But then he'd just accuse me of being passive aggressive. I honestly couldn't ever win. I was screwed just for existing.

Why did I let it happen? Fuck if I know. Maybe it's because that's how my mom always talked to me. Maybe it's because I have a need to be liked and will be a goddamn doormat. Maybe it's because I'm susceptible to manipulation. Maybe because it's fucking confusing to be told you're loved and you're beautiful, etc, while being told you're crazy and passive aggressive and talked down to constantly.

Sigh.

It's no wonder I got so depressed. It's no wonder I lost so much of who I am. No wonder I stopped writing, stopped making art, stopped finding time to love myself.

How the fuck does that happen? More importantly, how do I not let it happen again?

I'm confident I can do this. I am a quality person and I won't let someone take that from me again. I just need to find the right tools.