This is something that has bugged me for years, and it actually really came into realization how much it bugged me when I lost contact for a couple years with a good friend because his girlfriend was overly possessive and wouldn’t let him talk to his friends that were girls. I have a huge problem with guys that are possessive in that same manner. I believe that that kind of possessiveness goes to show just how much you really don’t trust the person that you’re with. But that’s possessiveness on a “we’re together” relationship level.
The other kind of possessiveness that I can’t deal with is on the friendship level. I was a tomboy growing up, all my friends were guys, I was more likely to have a guy friend than I was to have a girl friend just because I wasn’t prissy enough to hang with the girls and I didn’t care about primping and preening or barbies or any of that stuff too much, it just wasn’t my thing. I was more into the mud and digging holes for cars and trucks and dinosaurs to go through or put me on the grass field with a ball and I was happy.
Some of the guys that I’m friends with seem to think it’s their place to tell me about how the other guys that I’m friends with are not good. That pisses me off to no end. I’ll choose my friends and I don’t need my other friends moderating them. I don’t need some guy “friend” telling me about my standards and how they’re going to go out the window when I go head over heels for the next guy that crosses my path. I don’t need guys being jealous and thus getting possessive because they don’t want me talking to/seeing the other guy. I don’t need possessiveness in my life and I won’t stand for it.
I don’t need a leash around my neck, not by friends that are boys and not by boy friends. And that’s what the possessiveness of boys makes it feel like, it’s as though I can only go so far before I get yanked back and told what I can and cannot do.
I am a free spirit, and I will not be controlled by anyone. I’ll only put up with possessiveness for so long until I’m out of there friend of a long time or friend of a short time.
So I walk into work this morning, my last day of work and my desk should’ve been empty as I took the time to clean it out last night. But it wasn’t empty, there were roses at my desk waiting for me. 3 apricot colored roses. That put the biggest smile on my face.
Everybody was like ‘oooooh, Court got roses. She has a secret admirer. Who is it?’ Well no, it’s not a secret admirer, it’s a friend (because I’ve told him that he’s just a friend). But he did earn points. Because any boy that takes the time to get a girl roses is going to earn points. Because roses put a smile on most girls faces. But even better than that is that they weren’t red roses, they were apricot roses, and I don’t like red and apricot is pretty darn close to the yellow roses that are my favorite.
My moms friend asked her today if after I graduated if I was going to get a boyfriend.
My mom telling me this pissed me off. What does it matter if I have a boyfriend or not? There’s more to life than a relationship. I don’t care if getting married is supposed to be the best thing in life, and then what, I go forth and multiply. I’m not taking that path.
I’ve got very strict opinions about relationships and I can’t even meet some of my standards right now. That and I’m a free spirit. I don’t want to have someone connected to me at my hip, I like doing my own thing. There’s nothing wrong with me being single. I like to be able to go do my own thing. I don’t want to be in a place where I have to go with my boyfriend to everything he does or he has to come with me to everything I do. I don’t want to waste hours on the phone, because, oh, I miss you. I just don’t want it. And I’m allowed to have what I want, and I am justified in getting what I want in life right now. There’s other things I want to do in life, and I don’t need a boyfriend to accompany me.
End of story…worry about your own daughter…
There was a time in my life where I thought “The Bachelor”/”The Bachelorette” was a cool show to watch. Last night I walked out an hour before Lorenzo Borghese chose the woman he was going to marry because I was bored. Of course, I haven’t watched much of this season because I got irritated one night when Lorenzo went to meet on girls parents and they asked him something on the order of ‘why do you think she can be the one you choose’ and he said ‘well, she’s beautiful’.
Note to any man that think he may ever want to marry me, if my parents ask you why you want me as your wife the first thing had better not be ‘because she’s beautiful’…in fact, that had better come last in your long list of reasons you want to marry me…if you do mention first off that i’m beautiful my dad had better send you packing…there’s so much more to people than just beauty. And if you see me for just beauty then our relationship must be superficial and I woudln’t want to marry you…of course, our relationship probably wouldn’t get that far if I thought that you thought that I was just a piece of ass.
I think that right there sums up why I left an hour early last night and didn’t ever come back to see who he picked. It was the same situation but this time it was his parents asking the chick why she thought he was the one and she said ‘well, i can write my list and he’s got a check next to each item’ ok…good, he matches what you want in a man, what are those qualifications, what is it that he’s got checks next to, the fact that he’s a prince, he’s probably got money…seriously people…
it just irritates me to no end…I hope for the man who wants to marry me sake that he’s got the brains enough to tell my parents what it is about ‘ME’ that makes him want to marry me…
A continuation of The dildo and the hose
I must begin this by saying that my mom ever so nicely put that if we didn’t want to do house work, we should sell the house and rent an apartment. I don’t think it would be as much fun to not have the opportunity to fix the problem yourself.
I sat today watching my dad in a manner that I’ve not done in a long while. For about 2 hours I watched as he snaked my bathtub trying to get whatever was clogging the line out. He didn’t succeed, not in getting the clog out and not in making the tub drain any faster, despite what he managed to pull out.
What we found was hair, as is to be expected and tree roots, not something to be expected, not something we wanted to find. I had to confess that I had been pouring Miracle Grow down the drain. Dad said that it’s working ;) The chemist in me asked “couldn’t we pour something acidic down there that would destroy the roots and not the pipes” Dad said probably but he didn’t know what. We took a break for lunch, and then it was my turn. Within thirty minutes of working, I had pulled out a gnarly amount of tree roots, double what you see in the picture and unplugged my drain. YIPPEE!!!
Sadly, there was no one home for me to share the news with and I was having so much fun that I sent the snake back down the hole. I managed to plug my drain again. Dad said I did the right thing. At least I have that going for me because I can’t use my tub because it won’t drain at all now. Dad also mentioned that I’m worth more as a wife now because I’ve got some of the skills a plumber does. I’m more marketable now, men take note.
After two hours, I was no longer having fun and Dad went to work. He managed to not undo what I had done. The drain remains plugged.
If you don’t have a picture in your profile, your not actually swimming in the pond with the rest of the fish, you’re jumping about on dry land struggling to get back into the water so that you can breathe. The chances of you being considered as a likely candidate for someone to contact are about the same as you surviving as a fish out of water. It doesn’t matter if you’re a guy that says he’s 5′10″ with jet black hair and green eyes. It doesn’t matter that you have an athletic build, that you’re an outdoorsy kind of guy, that your dream home is a cabin in the forest on some mountain and that for a first date you’d take a walk in the park. All that writing won’t get you anything, because (and this is a huge generalization, although it’s an observed one) without a picture, not one word of your profile is likely to be read. The same goes for girls. I could be the 5′4″ with dirty blonde hair, hazel eyes (that depending on the day can be more green or brown), average build. I have a cute smile, my favorite color is blue, one day I hope to build a cabin in the forest on some mountain with a trap door in the living room that is conveniently placed over a stream so that I can open the trap door and go fishing from the comfort of my own home. I love the outdoors, camping, hiking, biking, taking walks on scenic routes during sunset. My favorite music is classical but I listen to a little bit of everything. Car of choice would be an SUV, the current pick, a Nissian Xterra. I love to travel but rarely get to. I don’t drink and I don’t smoke. I’m very adventurous and always willing to try new activities. The riskiest thing I ever did although it was inadvertanly done was fall down a waterfall. I have a gnarly scar, but I live to tell about that adventure…None of this is likely to be read, because I don’t have a picture posted. Why do we not post pictures with our profiles, I don’t know about everyone else, but for me it’s because I don’t want a guy to be attracted to me because I’m cute, by the same token, I don’t want them to be turned off by me because I don’t meet their standards and rank lower than a 10 on their 10 pt scale. There is more to us people than just the way we look. Although a person’s outer apearance may not be what we ideally want, their inner beauty may be more beautiful than we expected. But if we don’t give them a chance because there is no picture or their picture doesn’t rank well, who are we hurting more…I’d say ourselfs, because we’re not giving ourselfs to truely get to know the person. A little extra weight, not quite tall enough, the teeth not quite straight, the hair not cut correctly; all that can be over looked when you get to know the person well; when you see thier inner beauty. Where they want to be in 5, 10, 15 years. If they want kids or not and how many. What’s their religious preference. Do they want to be married and what do they want out of that marriage. What are their life ambitions. What’s their favorite book, movie, song and why are they their favorite. There’s so much more to a person than just looks. It’s a shame that looks are the basis of appeal.
Family events are chaotic when it comes to my sister and brother-in-law’s attendance. All families from both sides live in the same state, in neighboring cities in fact, we’re not very far apart…Mark and Tiffany make it a point to be at both family’s homes for each holiday (and sometimes more than that because parents are divorced and siblings are involved). The way I see what they do is this: leave early from one house to show up late at the next (I’m sure that’s appreciated *said with sarcasm if you didn’t catch it*). I don’t think that’s cool, besides that, it’s just a major pain in the rear, it seriously causes my family heart burn. I have a theory, and I don’t see the problem with it, but she thinks I’m delusional because of what I think…
So, here we go:
It seems to me that this is the way holiday’s should work (with the exception of Mother’s and Father’s Day, which I haven’t quite worked out yet *shrugs*). Every other holiday get’s alternated between families every other year. Whichever family get’s Christmas and Easter in one year, get’s Thanksgiving the next and vice versa. With the exception that if the families actually get along and we have holiday’s together (my understanding is that the chances of that happening are very slim). Now, there are details that this theory doesn’t take into consideration, details such as what if we don’t live in the same state as the families or one of the families doesn’t live in the same state as us (because if that’s the case, traveling can become an issue, which can fabricate other issues in and of itself very quickly).
That’s the theory I gave to my sister, minus the issues that could be involved and she told me that I had a lot of guts thinking that my husband, whom I haven’t even met yet, is going to agree with that theory. At which point I told her that my husband would be like minded on this issue because anything else is completely and udderly insane. At which point I got told that I’m delusional.
I wouldn’t call me delusional, I would call me logical, rational, of a sane mind.
