Tag Archives: marriage

Happy Halloween, You Blockheads!

In the spirit of Halloween (my favorite Holiday after the 4th of July) I’m going to keep this post light, because no one wants to read about how I’m pissed off at the World on such a joyful day.  So with that said, I’m just going to share a picture of my Halloween costume.

Pig Pen

And the rest of my department at work.

Peanuts Gang

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Gizzy’s Diary – Entry 1

Dear Diary,

This week has been mediocre, as is my life.  I accepted the role of ‘guinea pig’ for my team’s Halloween costume at work.  Meaning, I got to bring all the supplies home, make the costume, and then had to instruct everyone at work on how to make it.  They called me Miss Gizzy, and it felt good.  However, applying 2 layers of paper mache to a beach ball did not feel good.   In fact, it made me feel really fucking gross because the “paste” is made out of flour and water and when I went outside to walk the dog, my neighbor asked if I was aware that I had biscuit in my hair. I wanted to ask if he was aware that he should shut the fuck up, but be proud, Diary, I did not.

Last weekend I went to visit Gigi.  We threw ourselves a “I’m not getting married” Bachelorette party, which was fun because we got free drinks and negative attention, but ended in Gigi getting flowers from a guy that hit on me. I won’t even elaborate because I’m still pissed at that flower stealing whore face.

Earlier this week I threw 2 tantrums in public. Both over spaghetti squash, or rather the lack there of. I mean, I don’t live on fucking Antarctica. Can I not expect my local grocer to carry a common food item such as that? According to Walmart Manager Billy, I cannot.

Thanks for listening, Diary.

Love,

Your BFF, Gizzy<3

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Dear Mr. Nice Guy…

Dear Mr. Nice Guy, 

I have been in a committed relationship with my boyfriend for the past three months. He recently expressed to me that he feels like I don’t show affection toward him when we are in front of our families. Looking back on it, I can see his point. However, I have never been big on PDA and I certainly don’t want to disrespect his parents by being too physical in front of them. Is there a happy medium here?

Best, 

Shy Gurl

*     *     *

HeadshotDear Shy Gurl,

Your boyfriend does have a point, yet at the same time he doesn’t. This all really depends on how the two of you define PDA.
A question for you would be what sort of affection would you feel comfortable expressing towards him in front of your families? A question for him would be to what level of PDA does he expect? Obviously he’s not going to honk your boob, followed by you kung-fu gripping his crotch, while playing a friendly game of Trivial Pursuit with his family. (At least I hope not.)
These people probably know the two of you are in a committed relationship. The expectation that two individuals are going to treat their significant other just like any average friend, regardless of company, is ridiculous. Ignorance my be bliss when it comes to the more affectionate activities of couples, but most people possess this thing called tact. You’ve already shown you have this particular trait, so I’m not worried about your clothes coming off at Thanksgiving dinner resulting in little Suzy having to avert her eyes while you pounce on her uncle.
To be honest, the level of PDA you express depends on your personal comfort level. This could even evolve as time passes. The two of you have been together for 3 months. Odds are you are still just getting to know his family. It goes without saying you want to make a good impression on them, thus respect ranks high on your list of qualities to want to fire in their direction.
Though it’s difficult to say precisely what is acceptable, and what is not, (as this can vary family to family) here is a small list of things I would assume would not be an issue:
– loving kiss
– hand holding
– a casual form of snuggling (example: if everyone is gathered in a TV room just relaxing)
I would even go as far to say that even a shoulder/back/scalp rub would be appropriate in some settings.
If these are all things you already do, then I would say your boyfriend may have some unrealistic expectations based on his definition of PDA. Should that be the case, I’m lead to believe he thinks the two of you need to be joined-by-the-hip in these family settings. This is not the case. You do not always need to sit by each other. You don’t always need to be touching. A lack in proximity does not directly reflect on the seriousness of your relationship; nor indicate that there’s trouble in Lovesville.
If there were to be a conclusion to this little ramble it would be, “The little things are what should be focused on to express your affection.”
I hope that helped. If you later find yourself torn on what would be crossing the PDA line just ask, “What would little Suzy approve of?”
Best,
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My dad’s kinda guy.

My dad’s the kinda guy
Who you’ll get along with
You’ll sail the open seas
Laugh when the sun goes down
And share the catch of the day

But when the boat docks
He’ll deconstruct the ship you built
Replacing the polished wood
With bricks of dirt
Turned from the bowels of the ocean

My dad’s the kinda guy who starts shit
He remembers the things
You’ve blocked from your memory
For good reason
“Hey, hey remember that time you were super embarrassed? Yeah that was hilarious”

My dad’s the kinda guy
Who took his daughter to lunch
And said he was leaving
Packed his shit and left
Right after dessert
He’s the kinda guy
Who dates before the divorce is final
Who still shit talks the mother of his daughter
Even 10 years after the split

My dads the kinda guy
Who’s got 2 ex wives
Who is happy with the common law
Because he won’t actually marry his girlfriend
But he’ll live in her house
Sleep in her bed
And judge his neighbor for doing the same

My dad’s the kinda guy
Who didn’t pay child support
Who left his wife and child to fend for themselves
Until he was served in court and threatened with jail

My dad’s the kinda guy who
Hates valentines day because of jewelry commercials
Because women shouldn’t expect a damn thing
He’s the kinda guy who doesn’t drive on holidays
Because that would mean seeing family
He doesn’t mow the grass on Sundays
But he doesn’t go to church
He doesn’t put up a Christmas tree
Because he’s just too good for things like that

He’s the kinda guy who makes everything a contest
But there is no prize

My dad’s the kinda guy who had
A full scholarship
And dropped out of college after one semester
Because it was too hard
He’s the kinda guy who doesn’t say congratulations
For things like graduating college
Getting a job

He’s the kinda guy who wants to know why you called
“Did you have something to say?”

He lives in fantasy land but
Still believes life should be hard

He’s the kinda guy who doesn’t give out his address
Not even to his family
Because everyone is out to get him
He’s the kinda guy who hates suburbia
But refuses to live in the country
He’s the Mr Wilson to my Dennis the Menace
He’s the kinda guy
Who will fire his entire staff
Just because he can
Who still expects a game of thrones on Father’s Day
Like he deserves to be king

He is a catch 22

So if you meet him
And the ship doesn’t sail so smooth
Consider that
A success story

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Met the daughter.

I met D’s daughter, E, Monday night.

Considering I just met his parents a week before that, 2 things are happening in my mind. 1. Yeah, things are certainly faster than I am used to. And 2., my nerves are shot.

I was nervous to meet his parents, but even more nervous to meet his daughter. I have about ZERO experience with kids.

Considering she doesn’t like The Biebs (absolute bullshit), I resorted to the only other thing I’ve got: bribery. And I went to Justice.

D gave me about 5 hours notice on this meeting, so I ran to the mall on my lunch break, walked into Justice, bee-lining it for a salesclerk.

“I am meeting my boyfriend’s 6 year old daughter tonight and I wanted to get her a little gift and I am clueless,” I screamed.

Once we determined that I didn’t want to buy clothes, I was directed toward the accessories and told which items were “super popular.”

In the end, I purchased a wristlet (pink and white polka dot covered in glitter, complete with a hot green E), purple cheetah shoelaces, and two rhinestoned pink and purple friendship bracelets. I wrapped it all in hot pink wrapping paper and brought it with me to the pizza place.

Upon arrival, E was super shy, which is out of character from what I’d been told. She didn’t want to look at me, and was asking D things to ask me.

“Why don’t you ask her, she’s right there,” he told her.

Eventually, she came around and we talked about her school and the tooth fairy (did you know when you look at the tooth fairy, she becomes invisible?).

“Lucky is a rabbit, E, she eats salads,” D told her when our food arrived.

E was shocked to learn that rabbits eat salads.

When she was finished with her meal, I handed over the gift. I am convinced it could have been a box of turds and she would have loved it if it had a Justice tag on it.

After dinner we walked around some, going to the bookstore. I had fun looking at Barbie books with her (we picked out the Barbies wearing the prettiest dresses). Finally, we went to see Oz.

Of course, our order at the concession stand made me laugh—E making sure she got the BLUE sour punch straws. When we got to the theatre, E insisted on sitting between us, which resulted in a 2-hour long popcorn fight between D and I, behind her back.

According to E, her daddy is “OBSESSED” with butter.

At the end of the night, D told me he was glad to see us get along. He seemed extra sweet, telling me he “just spent a great evening with the two most important ladies in his life.”

I enjoyed hanging out as a threesome so much, I asked D if him and E would like to come over this Monday night to make pizzas. They said yes.

Anyone know how to make pizza?

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BEX got married.

I waited a few days to share this news with you all; only telling my very close friends and family, because I have been dealing with a mix of emotions surrounding BEX’s wedding, which happened on Saturday.

I found out about the wedding last Wednesday. For some reason, I wandered over to BEX’s Facebook page, and saw a post on his page about “7 more days ’till the wedding!”

Huh?

Considering I had just seen him a month prior and he mentioned nothing about a bride-to-be, and considering about 14 months ago he was asking me to sleep with him, I thought no way he was about to get married.

So I Googled his name along with “wedding,” and sure enough, up came a few wedding registries and a site on The Knot, complete with a picture of him and his fiancee. The site was created on March 5, 2012, less than 2 months after I told BEX to get out of my life.

My heart thumped and I swear my jaw traveled through two floors to hit the ground beneath me with a THUD.

It’s not the first time I’ve found out my ex was getting married. In fact, all of my exes are married. To say the least, it’s never fun news to get. However, in this case, it was a little different.

For starters, it was pretty obvious to me that he was cheating on me with this girl and vis versa. I’m not a genius, but I think it’s safe to say that after we had a conversation on January 9, 2012, he didn’t meet someone the next day and propose before March 5.

The real sting for me was recalling numerous conversations we’d had about getting married—he insisted that getting married was never a plan of his, and this always bothered me because I did (and do) want to be married. Now, obviously, that was just one of his many lies to me, because he did want to get married. And now he actually is married.

And yes, I know. He’s an ass, he’s the worst, he’s a douche, I deserve better. But I’m not sure, even as an award-winning editor, that any words I write can describe what it feels like to know that a person who betrayed you, did so to such a degree that there was a ring in his pocket the last time you slept together. It is sickening.

Upon receiving the news, I turned to the two women in my life who have supported me throughout my entire relationship and breakup with BEX: Gizzy and my mom. I was, and am, thankful for them lifting me out of the doldrums.

That day, on Gchat, BEX came online and I decided to send him a message asking him about the wedding.

ME: Getting married Saturday?

BEX: I am.

ME: I am shocked.

BEX: I guess I am too… but I’m excited.

ME: The shocking part is the math. It doesn’t add up. You slept with her and I at the same time?

BEX: No. It was a very quick process. We hadn’t been together in over 3 years.

And that was the end of that conversation. Sure, part of me wanted to tell him all of the times I knew there was overlap in the relationship he was having with her and the one he was having with me. But the majority of me knew that at this point, nothing I could say would make him understand, and really, I’m at a good place in my life.

What BEX didn’t realize is that a picture of him and his bride, proves him completely wrong. In July 2011, I flew across the country to see Gizzy for my birthday. Ironically, BEX flew there too. He told me he was going with his sister and her husband. But there is a picture on Facebook of him and his then girlfriend at the famous baseball stadium in that city. Behind them, is the date on the jumbo screen: July 2, 2011.

On that same date, BEX called me and sang me Happy Birthday and tried to meet up with me several times in the city. Little did I know that his girlfriend was sitting right beside him the entire time. We slept together the following week.

In a way, finding this out answers alot of my questions. It explains why BEX was never around, why he treated me like shit, and why he hid me from his friends and family. But it doesn’t do much for my trust issues.

I knew BEX was fooling around on me. But I didn’t know he was living a completely double life without my knowledge.

Saturday, I spent the day drinking, and for the first time, I cried about BEX’s wedding. I never wanted to waste more time on him, but I know I am still dealing with the hurt he left for me.

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Meet the parents II.

During the quick drive from the church to their home, D calls his parents asking if they need anything.

“We are going to stop at Walmart because Lucky needs a case of beer…” he told them (Baptists are anti-alcohol).

I gave him the evil stare.

He laughed, hanging up the phone, telling me to lighten up, that his family knew he was kidding and that they were big jokesters. Still.

D kept warning me that he “doesn’t come from money” and that his parents lived in the ghetto. Upon reaching their driveway, it wasn’t what I would consider the ghetto. It was an old house that needed some work, but I’m no one to judge—it was the house they raised three boys in, and now took care of several grandchildren.

Inside the house, dinner (a large pork roast) was cooking. There were Easter treats piled onto the kitchen table for all 5 grandkids. I found a spot on the counter to put my purse and parked myself there, answering questions as they were fired my direction.

“Lucky, you okay?” D asked me.

“Yeah, why?” I said.

“It’s going to be okay if you move from that spot,” he said.

It was awkward. It wasn’t my house, and everyone kept telling me not to be so quiet.

“But I am quiet!” I said.

“Ha! Yeah right, if you are dating my son there is no way you’re quiet,” his dad said.

When the kids asked if grandma would hide eggs for them, I said I would help. I jumped at the chance to get outside for a minute. So I took a bag of eggs (filled with Jolly Ranchers) and ventured into a leafy yard in my 4-inch gold high heels.

“Did you hide them really good?” D asked.

“Meh, some,” I said.

“You know if they can’t find them, you’ll have ruined Easter,” he said.

Did I mention he’s a little wise ass?

After lunch, D proceeded to fall asleep, the kids left, and there I was just mom and dad and me…

While I was worried at first, this actually poised a great opportunity for me to talk to them without the chatter of the others. We talked about my family, my job, and they told me how they met, how they got their house, and just how much they love D’s daughter.

While I didn’t walk away feeling like it was a home run, I felt I did a good job considering it was Easter and I was thrown into quite a mix, and just a month (yesterday marked one month) into our relationship.

We drove back to my apartment and it started to rain. We made it inside, opened the windows, and sat in the dark drinking wine and watching a marathon of “Extreme Couponers”…it was quite perfect.

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