Seriously Woman

If you guys knew the week I've had, you would forgive me my bloggy transgressions. It has been total hell.

And it's not likely to get much better this week because I have decided to try and move next weekend instead of waiting til the end of the month. Because if I don't get the fuck out of here I'm going to bitch slap my mother and I'm not sure relationships recover from that kind of thing.

I shouldn't even be in town next weekend. I should be going to Austin to behave atrociously in honor of Sharky's pending nuptials. But I am a sucker and can't say no so I will be TEACHING SUNDAY SCHOOL for Christ's sake. Actually, it will have nothing to do with Christ, as I'm Jewish. But you get my point. Molding young minds vs. partying my ass off? Clearly I've lost my damn mind.

Things have hit the "honeymoon's over" skids with Babe this week. I know part of it is me being a stressed out B, but it hasn't been helping matters. I don't think we're gonna break up or anything, but the stress of the joblessness combined with the distance from his place to mine is definitely taking it's toll. Another reason to get my bed into my own place ASAP.

Just don't even get me started on work. If this wasn't a 4 day week I'm pretty sure my head would have exploded last week. They do not pay me enough to put up with some of this shit.

So that's the short, random version. I will do better this week because when I don't get my daily dose of ridiculosity (mostly courtesy of Lilu, Maxie and Shine, check those bitches out, they're hilarious!) I go a little bit crazy-nuts. And isn't venting one of the many advantages of this awesome bloggy universe?

Ladies, Edumacate Your Men

In honor of TMI Thursdays, I bring you a topic which is likely to make some/all of you somewhat uncomfortable. But as I feel it is an important subject, I'm writing about it anyway.

Babe and I had a conversation last night that, honestly, left me slightly dumbfounded. TOM (as he calls it...isn't he cute?) was here this week and so our sexy-time activities of late had been limited to oral sex and above-the-waist groping. As recently as Monday, he was aware that I was "out of commission," and so when I went over there last night, he assumed that was still the state of things.

Well we started getting hot and heavy and I, thinking I was cleverly revealing that I was now able to get down and dirty without...well, getting dirty, asked whether he would prefer to...include me in the orgasm experience or enjoy a final "me me me" moment. He chose the latter, got his jollies, and was ready to go out and smoke a cigarette.

To which I replied "I'm not done yet." After confirming that, yes everything was cleared for take-off, he looks at me and says "well, aren't you supposed to wait a couple of days after that before you have sex?"

I'm not gonna lie y'all, I think I might have popped a few blood vessels trying not to laugh. "Who on earth told you that?" I asked him. "I dunno, I just thought that was how it worked." For serious?

Ladies, educate your men-folk! I know it's not fun to talk about periods, but this guy is 27 years old and he doesn't know enough to know when it's "safe" to have sex. He has plenty of girlfriends, some of them for long periods of time! How does this happen? I am truly baffled.

Also, it's perfectly safe to have sex on your period, if slightly gross. So there's definitely no harm in doing it on your first tampon-free day. I mean, come on.

So a few hours later, we did "it," just to prove to him that you could. Because I'm all about the oral sex, but I'm not a big fan of you get yours and I get nothing. And damn man, get your facts straight!

Proving LiLu's Theory

Before you yell at me for not updating since Wednesday, here are my excuses: I didn't blog Thursday because I was all "one day off is no big deal!" Then I didn't blog Friday-Saturday because I was too busy being all honeymoon phase-y with the boy. I could have blogged last night, but then it occurred to me that, why would I spend time I could be catching up on sleep Sunday night when I could spend time I will desperately need something to do at work on Monday?

OK, now you can yell.

Feel better? Good. Now that we've got that out of the way, on to the post I could have written last night but put off until today.

Oh, also, before you start, if you'd like the title of this post to make any sense to you, you should go read LiLu's theory on relationships if you haven't already. That chick's a genius (and also fall out of your office chair, snort in your cube funny).

For those of you too lazy/lame to read the post, LiLu's theory is that the person you're meant to be with is the one who can tolerate your kind of crazy. Because we are all a little crazy. Past experiences inevitably leave us a lot smarter but also a little bit scarred. It's as true for men as it is for women, but most men are a little bit better at keeping their crazy under wraps.

I had my first mini-meltdown of my relationship with Babe this weekend. Now, I don't want to go into the gory details for a lot of reasons including his privacy, but suffice it to say that there was some major drama involved in his last relationship before me and I am the first girl he's really dated since then (1.5 years ago). Said drama has...slightly amplified my otherwise "normal" early-relationship jitters. So really, it's saying something that I kept my shit together as long as I did. Especially since our favorite activity involves consuming lots of alcohol (ok, it IS consuming lots of alcohol).

When I got over to his place on Friday, he was super sweet. We cuddled on the couch watching TV and he played with my hair and scratched my back, things he knows I like and therefore made me very happy. When we were ready for dinner, we walked over and got some pizza, and then when we heard from our friends, we headed out for a night of drinking games.

Now. I am no longer the lightweight I once was when it comes to alcohol, especially beer. I can now put that shit away without suffering too thoroughly most of the time. However. We played Fuck the Dealer and guess who was the dealer at the end of the game? I think I consumed 2 whole beers in about 5 minutes. Which wouldn't be too terrible, except that kind of drinking takes a little while to catch up with you (and also they were probably beers 5 and 6 of the evening). I won't mention any names, but somebody flashed the guys she was playing in beer pong to distract them later that evening. She was pretty wasted.

When it was time to go home, Babe (who had stopped drinking a while before so he could drive and was, therefore, significantly more sober than I was) packed me up and hauled me away. And for some reason I'm not even sure my drunk self could figure out, I started a fight. About politics. On a Friday night, while drunk, with my new boyfriend. Because I had been bottling up a lot of crazy, I guess, and it got the better of me. He had some personal experience with the topic at hand and was not 1) too sure why I felt the need to bring it up or 2) why I was so upset with him when, at no point, had he disagreed with me. I cannot answer either of these questions. Because I'm special, I guess.

So we got home and, despite the fact that I had stormed away from the car and was still very hostile, he made me cinnamon toast (probably in an effort to sober me up some). And then I continued to argue/cry and generally be a supreme pain in the ass until he finally fought back a little and made me feel really awful for bringing it up at all (which was totally legitimate, let's be honest). Then he left me on the couch and went upstairs.

I sat there trying to get my shit together and decide whether I was going to go upstairs and try to fix it or stay mad and let him go to bed or whatever. About 5 mins later I went up and, still a little sniffley, told him that I was sorry if I upset him and that wasn't my intention, but at the same time, the points I had made were important to me and if that was an issue for him, then maybe we weren't supposed to work out. Because I have totally been that girl who takes it all back and just wants to fix it, and that doesn't end well. So I went with the middle ground, and hoped for the best.

He came over and gave me a big hug and suggested we go back downstairs and finish a movie we'd been watching earlier. That it was ok that I'd lost it a little, he had his moments too, and maybe I should have quit drinking after Fuck the Dealer. I nodded my head and we went downstairs. Where I proceeded to watch the movie with my head on his shoulder and one eye closed because otherwise I had double vision. Yeah, a little too much to drink.

About 15 minutes after we'd gone back downstairs, while he stroked my hair with my head on his shoulder, he kissed my forehead and told me "don't worry, I don't give up that easily. It's going to take a lot more than that to run me off." And I swallowed away some more tears and told him "I'm really glad to hear you say that."

And so, my friends, example 57,348,941 of LiLu's Love Theory. He gets my kind of crazy. And he knows exactly what to do to make it better.

Thank God. Cause I would have been pretty bummed if I'd sent him packing.

We spent the rest of the weekend being a ridiculously cute couple. We went to see District 9 on Saturday night and he held my hand/had his arm around me through the whole movie. And he was worried when I kept looking away from all the icky alien grossness that I didn't like the movie (which I did, it was excellent, if a little vomit-y/violent).

Tonight I'm going over to make lasagna for him, his brother and his brother's roommate, the Social Broker. In case you didn't know, I make the best lasagna you'll ever eat. I'm pretty psyched.

Dear Economy, Go F Yourself

Blah. Sorry for the negativity, but Babe got laid off today. Which makes no sense, since he was out of town 3 days last week helping set up their new office. They eliminated his position company-wide...but they can afford to open a new office. Brilliant (I can't say that without thinking of those Guiness commercials...).

This would be less scary if he a) wasn't already completely strapped this week, b) got any kind of notice or c) any form of severance. But such is life, and he has a positive attitude so far, so I am just trying to do my best to smile and be helpful as much as I can.

The good news is, I kick serious heiny at resume-writing and one of my close friends is the badassest recruiter and networker in the area. She's also Australian. And my future roommate. I know, you're jealous.

That's right, it's official. Mary is getting the hell out of dodge. And just in the nick of time, apparently.

I am a little bummed because Babe and I kind of have enough drama to work through without adding the stress of job hunting. But such is life, I suppose, and we'll make it or we won't. The major goal is not to turn into the same girl I was the last time I dated someone who was jobless. That would be the one that ended in the quarter-life crisis. So yeah.

Thoughts/prayers/Internet love and other such silliness, choose your flavor. He'll take all the good karma he can get.

Out of the Mouth of Babe

I went over to Babe's (the newly "official" boyfriend. This is mostly what I call him, so we'll go with that) last night for movies and cuddles. Only it was so f*ing hot in his room that by 10pm we had resolved to go buy a damn window A/C unit if it meant we didn't have to sleep drenched in sweat. Two trips to Walmart and the replacement of THE most disgusting air filter you've ever seen, and problem was mostly solved.

On the second trip to Walmart, we decided we needed some Junior Mints (both of our favorite movie theater candy...and we were watching movies...). Conversation in the parking lot:

Babe: Can I have some Junior Mints?

Mary: *opens box and places a Junior Mint in his hand* Sure!

Babe: *eats Junior Mint and puts hand out for more* Am I only allowed one at a time?

Mary: No! I just didn't want them to melt all over your hand.

Babe: Well I can put more than one in my mouth at a time! That's the best, when you suck on them and they meld into one big blob of mint chocolately goodness!

Mary: *dumps 3-5 Junior Mints in his hand* There! Sorry!

....about one minute later...

Babe: *opens mouth to reveal disgusting blob of chocolate* See?! Senior Mint!

Mary: Gross! Please never do that again.

It was pretty funny though.

Crunching Numbers

Alternate post title: Sweet Baby Jesus, I might not have to live at home much longer!

Hi, my name is Mary and I am a spendaholic. I have acquired some (*ahem* a lot) of debt as a result of this addiction. This debt is the main reason that, at 24 years old, with a Bachelor's degree and full-time job, I live with my parents. Don't think I don't kick myself in the ass at least 10x daily for that one, believe me.

However! Due to a combination of factors and some badass luck on my part, I might be able to get out by October 1st. Yes! That's right folks! A measly 4 months after moving in! It's a Chrismukkah in July miracle!

Okay, sorry. Got a little carried away with the exclamation points.

A fabulous friend has offered me her spare bedroom at way cheaper than I could get a place on my own. I have finally consolidated payments and blah blah blah down to one monthly payment, so that I know exactly how much I owe monthly and when. I will be teaching Sunday School in the fall, increasing my income slightly (veeerrrryyyyy slightly). And since I'll be teaching Sunday School, hopefully I won't be spending quite so much money on booze. Right.

So the goal is October 1st. There are a few more things to get in order/check into, but I think it's going to work. And it couldn't come soon enough because, well...there's a boy. And I like him and he likes me and we like having sex. And, well yeah. Refer to the rules.

So do me a favor and send positive thoughts (or donations!) my way. I need out.

Sharky is so mad at me right now...

Ack! So the thing about being super social is that it takes up time you used to spend on nerdy things like...blogging. Oops! Couple that with a busy week at work and a gimpy finger (currently splinted, please excuse any typos), and you get an out of date blog. Sorry.

So let's see, what did we miss? Well, Tuesday night we lost to a kickball team with only 8 players. That was...sad. Thursday night softball, the other team didn't even show up! We took batting practice (and I hit a lot of ground balls right to infielders :p) and then I met the kickball boys at their kickball bar. Friday night was their league's mid-season party (are we sensing a trend here?). I definitely got the most drunk I've been in a while...oops. But I think I'm slowly making new girlfriends (Hi Kat and Lisa)!

Saturday was my second in a row with rented movies and pleasant company...we watched Taken (which I'd seen and liked) and Righteous Kill (which I sort of slept through some of but wasn't impressed). I spent Sunday in bed watching a Harry Potter marathon on ABC Family because I. am. that. awesome. Not sure whether I'll try to see the new one this weekend...it's going to be a mob scene of nauseatingly spoiled rotten preteen girls. Not really my scene.

Those are the highlights, I guess. Tonight is the first week of playoffs for kickball (read: our last week of kickball since we can't beat anyone)...I made jello shots. Thursday is a double header for softball (also playoffs). I'm sure I'll cram some more heavy drinking in there somewhere.