Dynamite! (It's time to blow some shit up...)

The signs said 'stop', but we went on whole-hearted... It ended bad, but I love what we started.

The above is a line from one of my favorite songs by Fiona Apple, "Parting Gift". And basically, it has a lot of relevance to me today... Today is the day that I finally decided to stop lying to myself about men -- one man, specifically. I think it's important that we stop deceiving ourselves if we expect the opposite sex to. (Or the same sex. I don't discriminate against my LGBT!) And sometimes, it's hard to suddenly face the truth. But tough shit, you know? Lots of things in life are hard. That's another idea you're just going to have to get used to, if you expect to really make something with your life. But I digress...

Today, I decided to "break up" with my nonsensical ideas of what The Nigerian is to me. Am I actually breaking up with him? No. Why? Well, because (a) we were never actually in a relationship and (b) I still find value in keeping him around. But I've decided to break up with the mental horse manure that I kept feeding myself to keep hope alive. It sucks, but if I'm ever going to find my MaybeJew... I had to do it.

You see, I let myself fall wholly and stupidly for someone just because they made me feel good about myself. And while there is nothing wrong with falling someone, having someone make you feel sexy, or enjoying someone that makes you feel sexy... When you become dependent on them, that's when the shit hits the fan. When you become dependent on someone else to either make or break your happiness, that's when you've lost your goddamn mind.

So there I was, all lost and fallen... but I was still hanging onto him. Well, not "him", exactly -- but what I want(ed) him to be. Even though he explained to me that he didn't want to be with me and that all we'd ever be was "justfriends", I still held onto that little glimmer of hope that we'd become something more. Even though I've witnessed him woo other girls and seen the evidence of this wooing, I still believed that he'd finally see the light. But the truth is: HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO ME. Ding-dong, Michelle, your fucking common sense is HOME! And oh, it feels so good.

And it's not to say that he doesn't like me. It's not to say that I still don't want to be JUST friends with him... But if I'm ever going to move on, I need to let that ship of romantic possibility SAIL SAIL SAIL. Bon voyage, misplaced affection!

I really like him; it's true. And I really care about him and value our friendship. But he'll never be the love of my life. I have confronted that reality head-on. And I'm okay with that. When you reallyreallyreally like someone, you want them to hold that potential of being the "IT" for you. You want to entertain the thought of "forever" with them -- (a) it's so nice to think about; (b) you get caught up in the emotions; and (c) it's a lot easier than having to imagine how much the post-crush affects will suck. But the truth is, he doesn't have that potential for me. I don't think his chapter in my book is up yet... but it's taken a very different turn.

The truth is: I'm not ready to compromise or settle for less than what I've dreamed of, less than what I'm owed. By saying "Yeah, I'm okay with that" to finding another girl's sunglasses in his apartment, to another girl bringing him food to work, and to him flirting with another girl in my presence; I'm really saying, "No, I don't think I can do better than you." And I can do better than that. I may not need to find my soulmate right now... but I want someone who I can really love, who will REALLY love me. All the time, no matter what, with nothing else on the side. That's something I can't compromise on. Call it being selfish... I call it wising the fuck up. I want someone to love me so much that they don't need anyone else. And if I can't have that, then I'd much rather start focusing on myself and my goals (and slutting it up as much as possible before I go off to NY).

R.I.P. Nigerian FlirtationSHIT May 2008 to September 2008. You will NOT be missed.

blast from the past.

Today at work, I had a run in with a past boyfriend's lookalike and the rush of feelings I got hit me sideways!

Now about the boyfriend, we'll call this one Jock, he was my first high school boyfriend and the closest thing to a heart break I've had. It was tumultuous, fast, and unbelievable. It was my introduction to the world of dating, and it covered just about every base; being cheated on, the beginnings of falling in love, lust, whispered sweet nothings, being wooed, breaking up and getting back together-- all of it. He was a senior when I was a freshman and it spanned just about a year and some change.

Well today at work, a guy with a southern accent ordered then pulled around to the window. he was looking down and pulling stuff out of his wallet, and I was reading his order to him, then he looked up. under his cowboy hat was Jock's face. almost exactly. it scared the shit out of me. the eyes, the lips, the cheekbones-- all of it. Seeing him brought up all the emotions I felt throughout all of Jock and I's relationshit: anger, lust, irritation, and twitterpation. Jock was the one guy who's had this affect on me, and even after all this time it still happens.

Just goes to show you, even when you finally banish them from your thoughts, men still have to make sure you never forget them. bastards.

standard bullshit.

Double standards? A given. They're just the standard bullshit that society feeds all of us to keep men in control, and women oppressed. Its a step backwards for all women who are finding themselves sexually or wanting to be more open sexually.

Men use words like "whore" and "slut" to demean women who have decided that restrictions are just that, restrictions used to limit us. [[Read: I said "whores" not "homewreckers" they're another breed all their own]] but that's just it. Words. Words only have power if you let them, and I've decided its bullshit.

This is me, officially saying, I'm gonna date and sleep around as I see fit. Its my pussy, I do what I want.

Midnight Love... Whaaaaat?

Men, love, and sex.

That seems to be 50% of the ongoing traffic in my brain now-a-days. The other 50% is theatre, poetry, music, NYU, goals, and "Damn, I'm so fucking hungry for __________." Men have one-track minds -- they constantly think of sex. But alas, women are more complex creatures. So the sex is often attached to the men they want to have sex with (or women; of course I'm not trying to exclude my lesbian sisters) and the men that they love so much that they want to have sex with.

And that's where we get fucked over.

L-O-V-E. It's dangerous territory. I once read a quote: "Love is not a battle, it's the whole war." Yeah, well, love is also the enemy. And love will kill your ass if you cross its lines. And you can quote me on that. Love is not for the faint of heart. Yet so many of us with our figurative asthma and heart disease yearn for, lust for, and dive into it blindly.

Ladies, we're doing it all wrong. We can't just hand them everything on a silver platter... and then act surprise when they pawn that platter for a cheap ring to give to their new whore. No... We have to stay guarded, armored, and have our AK-47s loaded, aimed, and ready to fire. Because if we're not, love will ambush you, take you as a P.O.W., and won't release you until the war is over. And we never quite know when it's over.


Anyways... I'm Michelle. This is one of my many rants on love. I promise to post something more cohesive and theme-oriented within the next few days.,

my love life, or lack thereof, to this point.

As a lets-get-to-know-one-another beginning blog, I thought I'd give you a brief this-is-whats-been-happening and my stance of romance, dating and relationshits.

I got my body touched by an old friend in California, but that was short lived, and even shorter still mourned for. We'll call him "Chep" haha, because we may reference to him on occasion.

My exboyfriend, apparently, has been referencing me as a name tag for himself. Confused? Here's how he apparently introduced himself to my friend:
Him: have we met before?
Her: uh, I think so maybe?
Him: oh yeah, we have. I'm therese's ex-boyfriend.
Her:......oh.
Wow, how charming, right? Ugh, we'll reference him as BS for the endearing petname he had when we were dating, Baby Sass, and the name he got after we broke up, BullShitter.

One thing I hate about relationshits is the total loss of self most girls go through. "He's my other half" or "he completes me" makes me sick. You were a WHOLE person your ENTIRE life before him, and now you're a part? That's just sad. Another thing I hate is the sense of possesion some guys get. "That's MY girl" isn't endearing when you're limiting her life to you and only you. I had a life before you and best believe its gonna continue during and after you.

I think dating is useful, you shouldn't marry or tie your life to someone if you're not compatible, "test driving" is important. But God forbid you think you're the only one. No papers, no promises. Unless we're married, we decide to be exclusive or you're Gaspard Ulliel, don't try to tell me what I can and can't do. I've got the pussy I make the rules. Don't like it? Take your nonsense elsewhere.

Now, some people aren't going to like that previous paragraph. Well too bad. Double standards are just ignorance forcing society's hand. And I'm gonna be the first to say--write--its bullshit. If I wanna date a few guys at once, I will. If I'm after you just to fuck, then I will. Don't trip, I can love em and leave em just like a guy-- only difference is people will say I'm a whore. I'm done with that nonsense. Words are only words. The only person who can judge me is God.