Coping with breaking up.

Things that you must absolutely not do when being dumped (and I should know):

1. Do not call the dumper. DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE CALL THIS PERSON. Nothing you say, no amount of bargaining you do, and no amount of hot sex you promise them will make them want you again. And in the mean time, you lower your self worth. At this time, 2:40 PM EST, mine is worth less than the Somalian shilling (yes, I had to look that up).

2. Do not watch "Say Anything" over and over again.  Lloyd Dobbler does NOT exist.  And even if he did, you'd probably walk all over him and take him for granted anyway.  So just get over it.

3. If you have a choice, do not listen to music that reminds you of this person.  DMB for Empty Soul, TI and Lil Wayne for John.  Three great artists that I happen to like- all ruined because I need to be more selective when it comes to those I "lay down with."

4. Do not eat.  Trust me.  I mean, eat, but really - don't over do it.  This is not a bulimia thing or an anorexic thing or a body image thing.  Well maybe a body image thing.  It's perfectly natural to want to stuff your face after you break up or your heart's been smashed into a million unusable pieces.  Ice cream, Hershey's chocolate, cheeseburgers (it's an addiction and I'm working on it).  Just don't do it.  You'll feel like a heifer afterwards and no one there to tell you you aren't fat.  Is this shallow?  I think this is shallow.  But feeling bloated and miserable and heartbroken just really sucks.  So don't eat... too much.  Or at least have a banana instead.

5. Do not go out and spend money like it is going out of style (read: no shopping).  Especially in this economy.  I have to say, my first instinct after John was to go buy a new Coach purse.  I'm sure I'm not the only one who has ever felt this way.  I wanted a "See, I'm fine on my own and will buy this to show you that" symbol of my independence.  First of all, $250 is NEVER ok to spend on a purse and second of all, no that's it.  Don't make yourself go broke to one up that person.

DO: go out and have safe unattached sex.  Is that bad that I'm recommending this?  Probably.  Physically, you need to stop missing that person that just said you weren't good enough for them.  If you aren't into random sex- at least get out there and flirt.  Get back on the horse!  Fuck the loser.  If you let it get to you, you will never recover and the next guy you date will suffer for it.  

DO: tell yourself that you are an awesome person.  It sounds lame.  Trust me, I know it sounds really stupid and futile to do this.  However, if you say it and start believing it to be true- then it really doesn't matter what happens.  It doesn't matter who dumped who.  You have to be ok with you.

DO: watch movies like "Point Break," "Shaun of the Dead," "Die Hards 1, 2, 3...and the other one."  (Or whatever floats your boat in that arena.)  Watch horror movies, action movies, thriller movies.  Especially ones were people get shot up in the most elaborately staged ways- "Face/Off" and other John Woo movies are great for this.  Stupid explosions with little talk of love and feelings.  And, also, go see movies that you wouldn't go see otherwise- like "Rocky Horror" or "The Big Lebowski" at a local cinema with all those weirdos! (Sorry, I love those weirdos, but they are definitely weird.) 

DO: take up a hobby.  I'm starting ballroom dancing tonight.  Seriously!  So, join a gun club or take karate or take a nude drawing class (although, I'm warning you- those models aren't nearly as good looking as your would like them to be).  Keep busy.  Like I said before, Fuck the loser.  You are an awesome person.  You might not want to take it to the extremes of jumping out of a plane (three weeks!), but just do something you always wanted to do but put off.

There ya go, another advice column for someone who has no license to dole out advice.  Sometimes it just helps to manifest the thoughts into something productive.

Classics in Neuroses.

So, I was driving home last night in my "new" busted Cutlass Cierra (blogging does not make you rich). The thing has pep for a car that is fifteen years old. Before I knew it I was gliding up and down and around the back roads of Geauga County, Ohio and enjoying the fact that the sun sets later and later every day.

(So yeah, I have a nasty habit of joyriding. I'm a huge fan of "Left, Right, Straight." My car is a gas guzzler. I am probably the number one cause of global warming since I like to drive around aimlessly- I did when gas was at $4/gallon too.)

Back to last night. Driving along, listening to local pop radio and then... T.I. comes waltzing into my life again. I don't have a problem with T.I. and I hope he doesn't end up going to jail for the rest of his life on whatever bogus weapons charge they are using to make an example of him. He didn't beat his girlfriend (that we know of) and he didn't shoot anyone (that we know of).

And another backtrack: When T.I. first got big it was with "What You Know" back in 06. I had transferred from Miami of Ohio (aka Lilly White University) and was going to school at Kent State. I had met a boy the previous fall while visiting one of my best friends, it was her brother. It was the biggest thing to have happened to me up to that point. He would become my first love and, for while, the most important person in my life other than family. I'm sure you see where this is going- that boy was the infamous John, of stolen hat fame. T.I. and his string of inescapable hits off of King became the soundtrack to our summer.

Last October, the last time John and I saw each other and the brief 2 hours where we both reconsidered starting up again, it was "Whatever You Like" playing on the Honda stereo as we both looked at each other and wondered where to go next and if it would be together. It sounds really melodramatic and it probably was a scene worthy of the OC, but I will always consider this the turning point between us. Before I got out of the car he hugged me- holding on like he would never see me again. I couldn't understand why.

As you may have guessed, hearing T.I. on the radio is pretty tough for me.

So, there I was in the Cutlass and 96.5 starts up with the opening to "Whatever You Like." And I can't help but go back to that day in the car. "Do you love him?" he asked me (regarding PVille). "I think I could," I said. "Or at least owe it to myself to try." We rode around Mentor and Willoughby and Eastlake, where he's from. Half-joking, I suggested we go to the beach- the scene of one of our first hookups. We started out in that direction before deciding to turn back. It was a literal road that would only lead to more heartbreak. "Do you love her?" I asked about FCOG. He shrugged. It was the calm before the storm, to borrow a cliche.

Of course now, in my rusty Oldsmobile, in March of 09, I am fleeing back to my house. Frantic to get home. Frantic to talk to him. Tears streaming down my face, I run through a stop sign. I just needed to say something- anything- just hear his voice again. I forgot about everything that had happened and all the fights. It's an incessant need- an urge- a craving just to know that I'm still in his universe. A thought in the back of his head. I ran into my house and dug my cell out of my purse.

I looked at the number. (It's his house number.) Took a deep breath. Pressed send. No one was there.

And then, I realized the insanity of what I was doing. Why was I calling him? What good would this bring, if any?  At the best it would be a casual conversation, peppered in small talk.  At the worst- and heartbreakingly so- he would tell me to "Fucking go to Hell." So, of course, I immediately texted my sponsor.

ME: Having a meltdown here... Just called John's house. WTF is wrong with me?

ALANNA (were you expecting someone else?): WHY did you call his house?

ME: Idk. Idk. Idk. (Sorry, but that is my favorite and most used text lingo.)  No one was home. I was driving home and I heard TI. Damn TI. And I started missing him and the next thing I knew I was home and dialing the number for his house...

ALANNA: You need to break your unhealthy relationship habit. C-U-T-O-F-F. CUT OFF. Go ahead and miss him but contacting him will only result in heartache.

ME: I know... I don't know why I did it. It was like an alcoholic not realizing they are actually drinking a beer...

So, yes. I freaked out. And yes, I still think about John. All.the.time. I hope this gives you people out there an insight either to just how messed up I am or to how bad breakups and their resonance really are.  My sister says that I'm still in the "1/3 Zone"- a rule that says you can lament about someone for 1/3 of the time you were with them.  I always thought it was the "1/2 Rule"- guess even that downsized.  So I guess that means I can be like this until next September/October.  I don't want to be like this until October.  I hate going for weeks thinking I'm ok and then, because some T.I. song comes on, I go into withdrawal.

UGGHHHHH.

(Although it's funny I have everybody and their brother suggesting setups for me.  I really just think I need to be alone and get through this without hurting anyone else.)

The musical.

As my coworker Mar would say, I love drama.  So I thought, what would "And I Stole Your Hat, Too" look like as a successful Broadway musical drama?  And the result was a combination of my fascination with musical theater and my pathetically annoying problems:

AND I STOLE YOUR HAT, TOO:

A Childish Musical Drama*

Starring

CJ

as

"Heroine"

John 

as

"Prince Asshat"

FCOG (not an FCOG, but really, FCOG)

as

"Princess Twat"

PVille Guy

as

"Sir Douchebag"

and

Alanna

as

"the Best Friend"

(*Actually, it may be more a long the lines of a Shakespearean Comedy now that I think about it, but funny in the way that "Merchant of Venice" was funny... like kind of not funny but it's considered a comedy because no one actually dies.)

Act I opens with a colorful and happy piece called "Don't Ever Talk to My Boyfriend Again" sung by Princess Twat while she is at a Halloween party.  Followed by a jazzy upbeat dance number with the Heroine singing "Tell Your Fucking Whore of A Girlfriend that She Should Watch Her Baby Instead of Worrying about Me" to Prince Asshat as she secretly steals his hat. (Of course, this will be choreographed by Twila Tharp.  Kicklines and tap dancing and leaping across the stage.  It will be amazing.)  Prince Asshat responds with "Don't Ever Talk to Me Again, You Stupid Bitch." Then Sir Douchebag comes into the picture and sings a song about, oh I don't know, being a complete tool ("The Toolman"). End scene.

Intermission.

Overture.

Act II begins with a song by Prince Asshat singing a lovely ballad called "I Love Her but You Mean So Much To Me Still" but that will turn into "Wait, No, I'm Confused and I Changed My Mind Again" and then a reprise of "Don't Ever Talk to Me Again, You Stupid Bitch."  Followed by the Heroine singing the title song, "And I Stole Your Hat, Too" as she creates a blog.  "I shall post things about you, dear Prince, and your immaturity, and that stupid Princess Twat and her insecurity!"  Followed by a dance number in the middle.  "And you, Sir Douchebag, will get a post too so don't, please don't, threaten to sue!"  But he does.  And there's a big crazy scene where he yells at her (singing "Young, Dumb, And Full of..."-you knew that was coming- and tells her that she's taking advantage of their "friendship" and she cries.  End scene.

Intermission

Overture

Final Act.  Opens with the Best Friend singing a song called "You're An Idiot, We're Going to Boston" to the Heroine and she realizes that all these people are morons.  "You're right! My God, you're right! I don't know how I lost my siiiiiiiight!" the Heroine sings.  As Prince Asshat and Princess Twat come on to the stage she shakes his hand and hugs her and sings "I'm Over It."  "You can have him, you can have him, he's not that great anyway.  He's bad at sex, he's really stupid, and there's never an intelligent thing he'll say."  Sir Douchebag comes in singing the reprise of "Young, Dumb, And Full of..." and she continues to sing "I'm Over It," ending with a big flip of the bird.  And then her and the Best Friend dance off to Boston in "I'm So Glad That You Losers Live in Ohio (See Ya)" with the chorus line.  Fade to black (yeah, I know that's a screenwriter's, not a playwright's, term).

Curtain.

It's lame but I'm tired and loopy and bored.  I know, I'm reaching on this one.  Oh well, you win some, you lose some.

"You're over me? When were you 'under' me?"

If someone was to try and follow the threads that Alanna and I have going on Gmail, they would wonder why our parents haven't considered institutionalizing us.  Here, Alanna sums up my current situation with John:

"Is it wrong that the first thing that pops into my head every time you bring up John is that you two are so Ross and Rachel?  Except in this relationship, you're the one that knows the difference between "you're" and "your".  This move will be great for you - a little distance will heal your heart, and you can be as fabulous as you were meant to be, until the day that John grows up (a lot) and makes you not want to move to France.  Or something."

She is also the same person that told me he and I were soulmates, so I kind of believe her.  Not that I want him back right now... but it's all about looking at the bigger picture.

Cupcakes!

So like I promised, I have pictures from one of my activities of the weekend.  Unfortunately, I did not make it to the movie theater to throw things at emo kids.  But hey, there is always next weekend, right?  So enjoy these pictures and the lack of any meaningful content (or is there...?) below.

This may or may not be the new logo.  It was delicious, though, much like this blog.

A superstar in her kitchen.

A cupcake for PVille guy...

...and one for John...

"Young, dumb, and full of cum"- PVille Guy.

It was a really productive evening.  Really!  I made about 16 small and delectable treats and burned about 4 more.  I only ate one (because I really didn't make it to the gym this weekend, as predicted).

Fun with Google.

So I forgot about something.  Yesterday I was bored and playing with my Sprint Samsung Rant phone that has the slide out keyboard and all-internet access (if you can bear to look at the internet on a tiny little screen).  I've actually been using it to check my email on a regular basis (when I get out of the shower, when I'm brushing my teeth, when I'm sitting in traffic, when I'm pumping gas, when I'm painting my toenails) and I learned that I can use AIM, gChat, Yahoo! IM, and MSNMessenger (or whatever it's called), too!  ANYWAY, I was playing around with mini mobile Google and I put in "PVille guy."

AND, this is the most exciting part of it all, "...And I Stole Your Hat, Too" came up!  It was the first time that this had happened to me in my *blogging* life!  So then I thought, what else can I google and get "AISYH2"?

FCOG:  Immediately I realized that I was not as important as I had originally thought.  FCOG is an acronym for the First Church of God.  Which I will always remember now whenever I use that term.  I don't think they would be too pleased with my version.

WHIRLING DERVISH: This brought up some interesting things.  I always thought "whirling dervish" was a Victorian name for a cyclone, twister, or windstorm.  TURNS OUT, a whirling dervish is a dancing Sufi monk (or what we know as monks in the western world) and the whirling dance is actually considered a way to reach religious ecstasy.  See that? You learn something new everyday!

JOHN'S MOM:  UrbanDictionary.com cites that the phrase "John's Mom" refers to a "a woman infatuated by 'dark meat' " or a variation of "yo mama."  As in "This sucks." "Like John's mom." I would just like to say I'm sorry for that.

CHILDISH BEHAVIOR:  This just found a lot of psychological sites.  And a nice little article about the differences between childish and child-like.  I was too A.D.D. to read it but you can:

http://www.boloji.com/family/00149.htm 

("Why Can't An Adult Be Like A Child?" by Ramendra Kumar. 2000)

BOOTY CALL: (yes, I know that this will be interesting)  Oh, dear Lord!  For Chrissakes! If this isn't a surefire sign of the death of romance and chivalry, I don't know what else is!

 http://www.onlinebootycall.com/

I could keep going with this all day!

FAQ.

Here are some of the answers to questions I've been getting since the inaugural post of this blog.  

Q:  Why are you such a dork? (truth be told, this one is from my own sister)

A:  If the fact that I read real books and publications that are not chick lit or Cosmo makes me a dork, so be it.  Unfortunately I live in a state where the stereotype of beautiful women needing to be seen and not heard (while ugly women are forced to work in the bookstore/library/become 8th grade Algebra teachers) is perpetuated.  I do like to read.  I do like to see independent film.  I do not watch Fox News.  And yes, I enjoy the SciFi channel and horror movies.  And according to the people of this state, that makes me a dork/nerd/shrew/troll.

Q:  What the hell is John's deal?  What attracted you to him in the first place?

A:  John's "deal" is that he is a spoiled brat who doesn't like it when the women in his life (mom, sister, friend, ex-girlfriend) tell him he is an idiot.  He's insecure and hides it with the bravado usually reserved for hip-hop stars like Jay-Z.  That being said, he is a sweet lost little boy inside and he is very cute.  And he actually does like to learn new things and talk and try to help people whether they asked for his advice or not.  I don't know, he's kind of just like a mole that you get so used to you forget that it could be cancerous.  

Q: What is your religious affiliation?  I see you say you are an 'agnostic leaning towards atheism' on Facebook?

A:  Agnostic and always, always questioning everything.  Even when I was little.  I don't like to align myself with organized religion and I feel very suffocated inside a church (I subscribe to the theory that if there is a G-O-D he would rather be appreciated amongst his own creations rather than in a kiss-ass piece of architecture).  

Q:  Really, though, why are you so weird? (again from Lisa, my sister)

A:  I am not weird.  I'm eccentric and quirky and adorable.

Q:  So are you like some troll with no life in her parents' basement in her pajamas typing mean gossip on your blog?

A:  Actually, I think I am pretty attractive if I do say so myself.  Do I have a life?  That's debatable.  I go out and enjoy myself but I'm not a party girl (anymore).  There really isn't that much to do around here, though. Parents' basement?  Our basement is a scary, scary thing that I would imagine houses a crazy cannibal.  I stay in my area, he stays in his, and there are no problems.  As for my parents... well, having been divorced for many many years you can guess that they do not have a house together anymore. 

Q: Do you really have a job?

A: OF course I do.  Otherwise I wouldn't have this blog to keep me busy while I'm at it!

Q: You make it sound like Ohio is so isolated and backward.  Where do you live, exactly?

A:  I live in a lovely little town called Chesterland and it is in Geauga County.  This is the county immediately east of Cuyahoga County, where Cleveland is located and I spent a good portion of my life going to school.  Geauga County is mostly rural and includes small towns (like Chardon) as well as vast expanses of farm land (Amish country in Middlefield).  Most of Ohio is actually rural expanse like Geauga County.  What makes it interesting is the stark contrast in (this is why it is such a hotly contended for Battleground State) the inner-city populations of Cincinnati, Cleveland, and kind of Columbus (Columbus is actually a microcosm of its own with Ohio State).  We got it all here: backwards religious conservatives, mormons (Kirtland), rednecks, large Jewish populations, large Slavic and Russian populations, large African American populations, large Hispanic populations, young liberal college-educated elites, wealthy old money, wealthy new money, poverty, a booming crack-cocaine market, poor educational system, a failing industrial sector, a dirty polluted river that caught on fire, racial tension, and the ghosts of 4 dead college students from 1970.  And Lebron James.  It's pretty much a hodge-podge of political issues.  I love Ohio.

Q:  Why do you continue to give PVille guy the time of day? (this coming from a friend- actually all my friends)

A:  Because it is my gift and my curse to always see the good in people.  Even those that continue to walk on me and/or spew hate my way.   I think he is a really good guy and I think that he deserves better than what he has arguably accepted as his fate.  That being said, I do have my dignity and this blog and many, many of you making sure that I don't lose myself in this whole ordeal.  

Q: Do you have pets?

A: I do.  Oh, you want to know what kind?  I have a British bi-color blue named Sir Thomas of Chestershire (TomCat or TC for short).  He has six toes on each paw, which I guess is a breed standard.  He was a barn cat that my mother took in.  He has since become very accustomed to the indoor life.  And I have a lab named Lucky.  Well, lab/pit mix.  I saved him from a shelter. He has a gimp leg from a hit and run incident and abandonment issues.  He may or may not be mentally retarded as well.  He's 2 1/2.  They are my faithful companions and provide me with daily entertainment.  

Q: You need to do something with your life. (this one is from my ever-loving Dad who now resides in Scottsdale, AZ but was born in the projects in Boston).

A: That wasn't exactly a question as much of a statement.  Yes, I know I need to do something with my life.  In five years, I see myself doing exactly that: something. 

Ok, well if anyone wants to know anything else about me, you can email: carlyrowe@gmail.com or post your question in the comments.  

The showdown...

So, there was an interesting exchange of text messages between me and the FCOG yesterday.  I realize now that I have to change her pseudonym, seeing that she actually is a decent human being.  I probably should get rid of the "white trash slut" remark in my bio, too.  Dammit, I'm going soft.

Anyway, it started out pretty bad.  Of course, I had no choice but to debrief her about all of the conversations between John and I after she had placed a ban on him talking to me.  It was a low move,  but this is war.  And then she did this:

HER:  Btw. im not a mean person the only reason i text u earlier is cuz he said u were talkin shit about me in emails.i have no hate towards u at all. sorry if it came off that way. i just really want to believe what he tells me. ireally do hope u have a good life n find someone that makes u happy.

What the hell?  She really is nice.  She's like Kimmy (Cameron Diaz) in "My Best Friends Wedding" and I'm like glorious Julia Roberts as Julie Ann.  Annoyingly perfect, because there is nothing annoying about her.  Creme brule vs. Jell-O all the way.  So I had  no choice but to do this:

ME: I wasn't talking shit [FCOG- who really is not that bad],  i feel horrible about the things i've said about u [like you're an unfit mother, white trash, etc.]. I just want him to make sure he is making the rite decision.  4 the both of u.  John is essentially a good person but i do feel you know only half of what we have talked about.he really likes u and i told him if that meant we couldn't talk ne more then i was ok with that.i think he is rushing into it and that is nothing against u. he is stressd and confusd but he does love u.  he does have a bad side that i hope u never see and i really want him to be happy and u 2.  As 4 me i do have someone but not serious right now.  I'm trying to focus on career. So i send u good will and someday this will blow over and u will see i'm not a crazy bitch.

I don't know how many times I need to express the fact that I. GIVE. UP.  Leave me alone, now, and let me spend the winter in peace with my books.

You've got mail.

"Its not even like that.. were on the same page all the time.like tonigt allwe didwas han.g out at her house and watch cavs while she squeeze blqck heaqds out of my nose. She takes great care of me and doesn't expect me to be his dad. Although Someone needs to step up and be a positive male role model for him and im willing to do that. What could u think shes using me for? Money? No someone to spend her time with? Yes and possibly share our lives together. I found my perfect match my solemate! Btw im getting half rent and utilities paid too. Beneficial to us both.. U see give and take. {FCOG} is a class act. So what she has a kid shes not the only one! The way I see her take car of him makes me wish she had my son... Shes a once in a lifetime opportunity. And I love her so much its unbeliveable....

-response email from John. (from yesterday, 11/13/08)

I really don't know whether to be grossed out by this or to laugh...

Well, this lasted all of five minutes...

So, despite a proposed moratorium on saying mean things about the FCOG, I just couldn't resist today.  See now a lovely conversation via texts with my ex-best friend (because, really, at this moment I'm just more annoyed than anything else).

ME:  :( hey.  have a good day.

HIM: :) turn that frown upside down girl.

ME: (Forwarded message from PVille Guy).  It's been a rough week.

HIM: Drop this fag and get a new guy.

and here's where it went bad...

HIM: Trust me it's worth the wait ;)

So, I admit I should have probably just smiled and said... "Yeah I know."  But, as we all know, I couldn't let that one go.

ME: So I was the crap you had to go through to find Princess Bitch? Thanks.

HIM: Bye.

HIM: You take everything the wrong way.

ME: Really, how was I suppose to take that?  Sorry, I just don't feel like feeling bad about myself today.

HIM: Just be happy, it's so much better when your happy.  I'm moving in with her at the beginning of the year.

ME:  Well, that's the end of us then.  We can't be friends.  She won't let that happen.  So here are my parting words: U r ruining ur life.

HIM: Get over urself.  U ruin ur life by not being happy.

ME:  Don't call me when the shine gets dull and the tarnish shows and u  hate the position u r in.

HIM: I love the position I'm in.

HIM: I don't have to fight to get along with this girl.

ME: Get over URSELF.  U think ur so high and mighty because u have a charity case gf.  Ur pretending to be Prince Charming and its gonna get old.  And u know it.

ME: And PS, we wouldnt have fought so much if u had been a decent human being to me when we dated.

HIM: Ur just jealous that ur alone and i found a keeper.

ME: Ok bye.

ME: And PS, you didn't find a keeper- you found a clinger.  have fun w all that.

I'm SOOOOOO OVER THIS!!!!!* I want to through this nice computer out the window into oncoming traffic on Chagrin Road, go mow down some pedestrians in the Falls, and burn every picture I have of us.  This is like a tumor that has grown teeth and will not go away no matter how much I will it to.  It's a monster tumor.  Named John-COG.  

*I apologize for the gratuitous use of punctuation usually reserved for the diaries of 14 year old girls (aka "Twilight"s core audience).

A late night appeal.

"Hey."

It was the first word he had spoken to me in a week that wasn't in anger.  Last night at 11:00 my phone rang.  John's name was on the caller ID.  I debated about picking it up.  

"Hi."

For a moment, we said nothing.  I was afraid to talk, afraid he was about to start yelling at me again for God knows what this time.  

"How are you?"

So I told him about Laser Tag and Whirly Ball and Asshole and Cheney and how I really liked the people I went out with yesterday and how I drank maybe a little too much.  There was another pause.

"I'm scared."

And because I'm a good friend, I knew I had to listen.  So I let him talk about how nervous he was that things were going so fast and how, since October 15, he'd manage to see this girl every single day except for two.  How he loved her already.  How he thought she was the one.  

And because I'm a good friend, I told him to be happy.  I told him to go into it with his whole heart and be a good man.  That's really all I ever wanted for him anyway.  I told him that things are good now, but they won't always be.  And when they aren't, it will suck and it will hurt but that he will get over it.  If she's this important, he'll find away to make it work.

Then he said something that I never thought he would say.  "I want to move in with her."

Now, I don't have to know this girl to know this is a bad idea.  Anyone reading this can see this is not a good idea.  But he's a fool in love and he's my friend.  So I politely expressed my opinion (all the while wanting to scream "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!?!") and explained delicately that babies are fun when you can put them down and go home and that living with someone is not the same as just staying at their house every night.  It's a lot of pressure.  "Are you ready to be a father?"  He didn't say anything.

So we changed the topic of conversation and moved on to lighter things.  Like Christmas presents and other things to that nature...  and it was just nice to know that he still thought my opinion mattered.

Eventually, we were too tired to talk.  We said our goodbyes and for the first time, I was ok with that.  If that was the last conversation we ever have, I would be ok.  John and I were never "the one" for each other.  I always knew that.  It doesn't mean that I would ever stop caring about him, or he for me.  I realized that whatever end-game I had in this whole situation was never going to end up with us going back to the way things were.  I had to accept that.  We were lucky to be close as long as we were.  Exs rarely stay friends, it's just a part of life.

"So, I wish you the best in your life.  You need to do everything possible to make this work with her, you deserve it.  And I deserve to give every chance and my whole heart to someone else.  I need to figure out my life without you in it," was really the only thing left to say.  And I said it.  

It's scary and it's a new beginning at the same time.  I'm kind of excited.

Hurt.

im truly sorry I have been mean to u. but I don't know any other way to get u to let me be. I realy don't want to mess up what I have going with sarah, and I truly don't know how u are with me being happy with another woman??? only u have the answer for that. ithink she feels a little threaten by u, since we have such a long history together. for almost 3 years. and it didn't help when u said what u said; remember she doesn't know u how I do.she just thinks ur a exgf that still wants me. I don't want to loose u as a friend, but at the same time I don't want to loose my girl. im stuck in a catch 22. I hope u can understand where im standing. its a very tough situation for me to be in. if u want to be friends with mary then u can't talk to her bout me. it realy makkes her not like u when u do that. yes I am in love with "the baby momma" as u tell to mary. and im not trying to be anything im not. being with her has made me relize the ammount of responsibility I have been lacking. yes her having a baby isn't the perfect situation but seeing how happy he makes her. that makes me happy. so it most deff worth it to me. I hope all is well with u and realy wish u nothing but the best for ur life,

love alwaysse, john

(MySpace message entitled "Time Will Heal All Wounds")

"Face it, you predicate everything on John.  You will never b w ne one except for him." PVille guy expressing his "frustrations" right before saying that he needs "space"

So some days are better then others... some are worse.  I threw up because my gut just can't take any of this.  I've changed my number, blocked my MySpace.  I'm just done.  I don't know how many times I can say it, either.  Sorry, this isn't very funny today.  I'll try and do something ridiculous later to offset it.  

Decision 08.

WINNER

While Americans were lining up to make their voices heard yesterday and making a decision that will affect every one of our lives for the next four years, I was making some decisions of my own about where to go from here.  It's time to move on, not only for the country, but me as well.

I sent John a very long apology and a good will message on MySpace.  I took the high road and said that I wished we could be friends.  It was a private message that I hope he respects as much as I do in not posting in.  

After more angry words and more fighting, I finally just rolled over.  "I'm done.  I can't beat myself up about this and I can't let you do it to me anymore, either.  We have to move on."  He confessed to still having feelings for me that he doesn't know what to do with.  He really cares about this girl (FCOG) and if I want to be his best friend, then I have no other choice but to support that.  He wants to give it a chance.

So we talked about the things we used to talk about before this happened.  Tanning, drinking, stupid people, my  new phone.  He told me that SHE doesn't want him to talk to me.  I said that it was up to him and hopefully, one day, she can be secure enough that she would let me take them out for drinks as a peace offering.  

"Keep your side of the street clean, Carly," my mom always says.  "It's the only thing you can do."  

The night was made even better when PVille guy called and asked me how my day was going.  I vented to him about everything.  I apologized for being so mean to him so many times before because I was so used to three years of long, painful fights with John that everything would be new to me now.  I hung up the phone, smiling like an idiot and happy to have that new relationship "butterflies" feeling again (don't worry, there were some very inappropriate and borderline pornographic comments made too, so it wasn't all mushy).*

I went upstairs and watched Pennsylvania, my home state of Ohio, and Florida all turn blue on the map.  I was dozing off just as President-Elect took the stage in Grant Park and watched history write itself in front of me.  All in all, I think it was a pretty good night.

*Don't worry, for those who are thinking this is beginning to lack in childish actions.  I have a new guy and a new life ahead of me... there will be plenty of opportunities to screw it all up, I'm sure.  And when I do, I'll let you know.

Babymamadrama.

So I maybe forgot to mention that I talked to John's mom on Saturday.  Well, see it happened in quite a sane way so don't go thinking that I called her to "tell on him" as he is now convinced.  While on my way to return the phone, I called her to see if she or his brother were going to be home.  She didn't call back before I got there.  You know this part of the story.  

On my way home, she called me back and talked to me.  About work.  About Photoshop (she is a graphic designer and I am learning how to use it for work).  About Pville Guy.  I love John's mom.  She is a great lady, devout and strong in her convictions and faith.  I've also known her longer than I've known John (through his sister).  She asked why John was so upset and grumpy lately.  I said I didn't know.  She asked about the FCOG.  This woman wants to know about the girl his son is dating.  I didn't want to answer, but she asked if she was nice.

Hmmm... so what do I say?  A better person would have said, "She's a great girl."

But seeing that this whole blog was created with the idea that I'm certainly not the better person, I said something that I probably shouldn't have.  "No, she really isn't."  Ok, I was angry.  I had voicemails and texts from this girl telling me to stay away from John.  I didn't really think about it.  I also told her about the voicemail from the night before.  I did not mention the one kicker that would send his Devout Catholic mother over the edge.  She has a baby.  

So you can imagine my surprise today when I received a text accusing me of this from John.

"Stop texting me," I said after denying the claim.  I'm just too tired to fight anymore.

High Road and Booty Call.

"I love that smile, you know I do. I think about it all the time"

*sigh.*

If not for that one comment late night Saturday, this weekend could have been much uglier than it already was. So thank you to Pville Guy for making "booty calls on Saturday night" really just ways to make me feel like the prettiest girl ever. Although, it almost didn't happen that way.

PVILLE GUY: "Hey want to have a quicky?" (10:39 PM Saturday)
ME: " in my pajamas already!"
PVILLE GUY: "Does anyone say pajamas n e more?"
ME: "Really, why do you hate me? Are you going to tell me how to get to your house?"
PVILLE GUY: "You have twenty minutes to get here."
ME: "...and here is?"
PVILLE GUY: "Twenty minutes." (by the way, Painesville is like 45 min from my house)
ME: "That's not fair!"
PVILLE GUY: "Better stop complaining and hurry up."

Well, the complaining went on for at least another twenty minutes and just when I thought I had completely chased away any opportunity of "cuddle-time," he called with directions. Then I realized I don't need directions because my super cool new phone has GPS!

I must admit, pulling up to see a grown man in his boxers and tshirt standing out in the freezing cold for me really made me forget for a few minutes what happened the day before (see below). He made a mock angry face, quickly cracking to a smile. My knees got weak (possibly because I hadn't eaten anything in two days). I threw my arms around him and then he reminded me of something that I had secretly hoped had disappeared somehow. "My son's asleep, so we have to be quiet."

So, after tip-toing around like teenagers past curfew, the night ended up rather well. Of course, we did discuss the fact that perhaps meeting said child would not be really appropriate the next morning (to which I completely agree because (a) i'm not ready for that just yet and (b) especially not while beginning the walk of shame home.

"Don't let this (the situation with John) consume you," he said to me before I got in my car. "Let it go."

So, later that day, I sucked it up and decided to take the high road. After all, I had someone to care about that cares about me. I had to do what I was afraid of the most and that was say goodbye to John.

"You can be mad all you want. I will care about you forever and will be here for you if you ever need me." TEXT TO JOHN

Yet somehow this led to more arguing. So then finally, we decided that we will not speak to each other, at least for right now. So I knew what I had to do next.

"I'm sorry for what I said about you without getting to know you. I'm sure you are a good person/mother because John is crazy about you. I wish you both the best. He asked advice about u. I told him to be honest and he will. I told him to listen to u and he will. Don't rush him into saying I love you, he'll do that on his own terms. His mom is scary but she is good people. He is very faithful. Treat him well or we will have problems. u win." TEXT FROM ME TO FCOG

"It's not a game. U win means nothing. Please don't text me ne more." TEXT FROM FCOG proving she is an FCOG.

So, taking the high road sucks so far. I am swallowing my pride and doing what I should have done all along. Let him figure out that this is a big mistake (because it is, my intuition is never wrong).

Until next time, hoping I get my appetite back.

Yes. It's Gone.

My story begins three years ago, but really, there is a prologue.  There was a guy I knew sophomore year.  He was your typical Miami U of Ohio a-hole (and I say this not only because I hooked up with him, but because he just was).  One day, he met a girl that he really liked.  He fell hard and fast for this girl, which was funny because I really didn't think he was capable of any emotion outside of himself.  Well, the girl- cute and nice as she was- decided to mess around with her ex-boyfriend.  Things happened, stuff transpired... and the result was a marvelous little website with her picture and the guy's voice repeating "You are a slut... slut... slut" along with, I believe, recorded voicemails from the girl (who was understandably angry).  I mention this because, as funny as it was, the whole thing was a pretty petty act of a-holeness at its best.  I could never see my self stooping so low.  Cut to yesterday afternoon around 1:30 and me literally stealing my ex-boyfriend's hat off of his dining room table.  Pretty low and desperate, yes?  So here's my story:

John and I met through his sister.  I had left Miami U and while I was on break from Kent State, I didn't really have many friends, let alone a serious love interest. He didn't say a lot and that made me crazy about him.  One night, we discussed my plans to move to Texas (which never happened).  He was sweet, endearing, and clueless.  It wasn't long before we couldn't get enough of each other and I spent my summer days by his side.  Helping him when he didn't have a car, taking him out when he didn't have money. We went through it all together, side by side.  We were on again and off again.  We had tremendous fights and crazy make-up sex afterwards.  After three years, we knew our hearts just couldn't take it and, after one more failed attempt, swore we would be best friends.

There were flings with others for me and I told him I wouldn't care if he met someone special, just as long as I was in his life still.  Enter the Bitch.  Or, and I don't use this term lightly, the Fucking Cunt Of a Girlfriend (or, FCOG), seen here in an artist's rendering.  At first, she seemed sweet and he seemed to really like her.  I won't get into details about her (because children are involved) but let's just say that she had some responsibilities that required being close to a small version of a person a lot.  I pointed this out to him and warned him that she will always have this responsibility and he will have to man up or get out.  "Don't lead on a single mother," I told him.  And then came the phone call.

"I would appreciate you not hanging out with my boyfriend anymore because he isn't yours and I don't know what you are fucking saying to him, but get over it.  Have fun!"- voicemail.

It might have been her voice, all slurred and irresponsible-drunk-motherish, it may have been the fact that she was TELLING me what to do, not asking.  It also may have been the fact that she was CALLING ME.  MY PHONE.  

To say I snapped would be nice.  I won't go into the gorey details, but I think it involved screaming, throwing my phone, my sister going off on John, and a whole lot of other stuff I'm not proud of.

Well,  cut to the next day.  I had to get a new phone because 1. this bitch was not going to call me again and 2. I didn't want to be on John's plan anymore.  Which meant that I had to return my old phone to him.  Of course between calmly purchasing a new one at Sprint and driving to his house to drop it off, I received a barrage of texts and insulting voicemails once again directed at me.  Ooookay?  Not from him either.  From the FCOG.  

I couldn't believe it, my best friend in the whole world had decided to throw everything out that we had for this.  

"You're acting really childish." text from FCOG

I think that was my tipping point.  And then, without thinking, I took it.  The door was open, it was right there.  

Do I condone stealing? NO.  Would I suggest that anyone do that? HELL NO.  I think it was a mistake and a crazy decision on my part but, you know what? I don't care.  When he wants to be a man and not a pussy-whipped version of his former self, he knows the number.

Until then, I will be maintaining this blog as a record of the events to come.  They are for entertainment value, but also I hope to teach other crazy girls like me a lesson.  Do as I say, not as I do.  Trust me, this whole thing should come with a disclaimer.

Until next time, mis amigas locas, see ya.