Friday, February 27, 2009

PAY UP!!

Today I was thinking that if the broke brothas I entertained REALLY well (because I didn't want something as silly as money to interfere with our relationship), repaid me 50cents on the dollar for every meal, movie, and treat I purchased, I could cover the mortgage and car note for at least the next six months.

Note to Boys Who Behave Badly

There will come a time when you'll feel the need to apologize for your misdeeds.  And 5, 10 or 20 years from now when you reach out to assuage your guilt, she'll have to relive the shame of having put up with so much of your crap.  And she'll become BITTER all over again!

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Note to Self

Network
Kiss Ass
Get Job!

Overwhelmed

regretfulchallengedoptimistichappyperserveringbewilderedscaredlazyfunnyhornybrokebrokenalonefree


And you?

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

What Do I Do Now?



Today (Ash Wednesday) is the first day of Lent. I need to make some magic happen in my life, so I'm going to take it seriously this year.  In honor of Lent, I'm giving up TV--kinda.  I'm only allowing myself an hour a day, which is a big deal, because I work at home and the TV is ALWAYS on.  How am I ging to fill the days?

Today, I woke and:
  1. Spent 20 minutes "personal time" reading InStyle
  2. Mediated (20 minutes)
  3. Walked the dogs for 30 minuutes while chatting with a friend
  4. Ate cereal while watching the first 15 minutes of The View (waste of  time, Whoopi defended her Oscar dress, self-righteous Elizabeth was pretty quiet)
  5. Brewed coffee/took a shower/got dressed (28 minutes)
  6. Joined neighbors on fieldtrip to Costco (2 hours 31 minutes)
  7. Bathroom break (6 minutes)
  8. Walked the dogs (15 minutes)
  9. Cut Costco meats into meal-size portions then stored in freezer (28 minutes)
  10. Made chicken caesar salad while chatting with Mom (9 minutes)
  11. Ate lunch while watching General Hospital (23 minutes --I skipped the Rebecca Shaw storyline--it's ANNOYING)
  12. Washed dishes (13 minutes)
  13. Made job inquiries (networking, emailing, web-surfing- 1 hour, 53 minutes)
  14. Returned phone calls (27 minutes)
  15. Wrote (2 hours)
  16. Walked dogs (49 minutes)
  17. Made dinner and wrote some more (1 hour, 41 minutes)
  18. Ate dinner while flipping between IDOL and BIGGEST LOSER (this week the show titles should have been switched).  1 hour (that's a lie--it was more like 1.5)
  19. Played with one of the dogs (7 minutes)
  20. Washed hands (1 minute)
  21. Wrote more (1 hour, 39 minutes)
  22. Checked my Facebook page; played Word Challenge (48 minutes).
  23. Stared at TV wishing I could turn it on (7 minutes).
  24. Blogged (33 minutes)
  25. Got ready for bed (12 minutes)
Total time spent watching TV 2 hours 8 minutes
Total time doing something other than watching/listening to TV 14 hours and 23 minutes

Must work harder on Lenten sacrifice -- Tomorrow!





Monday, February 23, 2009

The XMen

I'm one of those women whose exes always check-in.  I'll get the semi-annual email, "Hey, how are you?  How's your mom!"  The seasonal text, "Hey, what's up?  I'm thinking about you."  The bi-monthly phone call, "How's it going? How's your mother? Father? Sister? The dogs?"

I'm always cool and appreciative of the concern.  "I'm fine, thanks.  Everyone's fine.  Thanks for asking."  

But what I really mean to say is, "What do you want? Why are you emailing at midnight?  Do you miss me?"

I used to think that an ex's reaching out meant that I was being thought of in a positive way. And that perhaps my ex was regretting his status in my life, and was in fact looking for re-entry. I've recently concluded that the concern isn't really about me.  It has very little to do with me at all.

A male friend says, "Men always check-in for two reasons, 1) to make sure they haven't become baby daddies, and 2) once that's been established, they need to know that someone out there still cares for them.  That if their present situation doesn't work out, they've got an emotional resting place.  You,"  he continued, "Are a nice soft place to rest!"

"Wow, I'm a great place to rest, just not stay.  I'm a motel!"

"Hotel! A Five Star Hotel!" 

"But not a house with a picket fence and backyard?"

"Of course you are.  Someday, the right guy will think you're the perfect house!  But since none of these guys did, stop making them feel better!"

Well, that hit like a TON of bricks.  All this time I thought that even though I hadn't met my Prince Charming, I was so charming that men just couldn't forget about me. But, if I am to trust my friend's summation, I was simply boosting egos long after it was my duty!  And that makes me BITTER!

What say you?  Do you and an ex check-in periodically?  Or do you change your number/email address every time you end a relationship?  Purge and Surge.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

I Ain't Got No Mon-ey!

The ONLY cool thing about being broke right now is that EVERYONE'S either in the same boat, or too scared to judge because they're a paycheck away from joining you! But in denial of that fact, they are being really nice, and really, really generous! When I pass up an outing due to lack of disposal funds, I receive a cheerful, "I'll pay!" from most everyone. Which is GREAT karma. When I was fortunate, I did my share of treating others less fortunate than I, so I don't feel weird about the payback.

But now I understand why some hesitated to accept my offerings. They were afraid of my becoming a Benevolent Abuser (BA). Here are three examples of such behavior:

1) BA 1 recently invited me for a short tryst. I was writing at home, and was happy to take an hour-long break. The hour turned into four, and my protests fell on deaf ears because she was paying.

2) BA 2 and I were late for a 2-hour movie, so she parked at a 30-minute meter.  OK? One might expect that we’d take turns feeding the meter, but it was clear that I was expected to hop up every 27 minutes to avoid getting a ticket!

3) BA 3 invited me to dinner with him and his friends, and verbally attacked me when I chose to disagree with his POV. He then used his Amex in place of Hallmark to tender an apology.

In all three cases I believe that the Benevolent Abusers started with the best of intentions, but my financial vulnerability triggered something in their subconscious, and a power struggle ensued. On the surface, they were being “friends in deed,” for “this friend in need!” But a deeper look reveals the truth—they were purchasing my time. And once I allowed myself to be up for sale, boundaries were crossed.

Moral of the story: I SHOULD HAVE KEPT MY BROKE ASS AT HOME.


How do you deal with lack of funds in a social setting? Allow others to pay? Consume a small green salad and water then refuse to split the bill? Or forgo it all, opting instead to stay at home writing in your BITTER journal? Purge and surge!

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

How I Became Bitter

Hello Guys & Gals,

It's day 1 of my blog. Folks have been telling me to do this for years, and like everything else in life, I was slow on the uptake. I'm a bit of a late-bloomer (read: non-bloomer). Plus, the thought of letting everyone into my little world is scary. Will I be judged for becoming a blogger? Will dispersions be cast upon me for what I've dared to say/reveal?  Will someone who holds the key to my perfect job/future NOT hire/love me because somewhere in the bowels of cyberspace I've revealed my innermost? MAYBE.

But let’s be honest, anyone (I know who you are) who may judge me, either can't, won't or hasn't done a damn thing for me, anyway.  And s/he probably isn’t someone whose ass I’m all that keen on kissing…anymore.  So, I'm choosing to live this life honestly and without fear, and to allow the chips to fall where they may. Please God, don’t let them fall too far out of reach!

So, yes, I’m BITTER. “Why?” you ask.

The answer is simple and complicated. I was the proverbial good girl who did EVERYTHING that my parents (and the Reagans) asked of me. I believed that adhering to the rules would guarantee a GREAT life. So, I graduated from a top university, forged a promising career, dated discreetly, took the pill, and HAD great credit. I became AN INDEPENDENT WOMAN.

And now as I've (presumably) lived half my life, my childhood friends are settled into married life, and dropping their kids off at college; and the children of my college friends (read: hussies) are starting kindergarten, and I...let's just say that my life doesn't even remotely resemble what I'd imagined. And the only thing I know for sure is that, the rules I followed weren’t in the winning handbook. And now I can say without a doubt, that "I DON'T KNOW SHIT!"

And it's no one person’s fault. Not really. There are SEVERAL folks to blame for the majority of the disasters, but mostly, it's a series of left turns that probably should have been right turns. And taking stock in what others thought of me, more than in what I thought of myself. And allowing the wrong men to linger, while dismissing the right men as though they were the vagrant rogues begging for my last dime.

I'm BITTER because I still haven't figured out how to live this life.

Have you? What are you BITTER about? In the words of a dear friend, “purge and surge!”