Monday, December 12, 2011

Just shut my whore mouth

Is it incredibly strange to ask for discretion in a relationship?  I know most people say they want to hear their partner be open and truthful about affairs or drunken mistakes.  I don't want to hear anything, and apparently it makes me a social oddity.  If he's getting some on the side, well shit that sucks; but to be completely honest, I really don't want to know.  I don't want to know who it is or what you did.  "But Karina, wouldn't you want to know about what he's doing now so that you won't be terribly shocked when he just up and leaves you later?" Oh no. I think that taking a pill like that would be much easier to take than to sit here and boil in all the things I fail to provide but the other women can.  I've been suddenly dropped many a time before, I can handle that and I can move on without a hitch.  But if you're making me listen to all of the disloyal things you did at Philly Joe's party, please leave me out of the loop.  My inner harmony is balanced when I feel like I'm the only woman of any significance to exist in this realm.  Not only is it not sexy to hear that you were getting it on with someone other than me, but now I have to marinate in my own self pity about how terrible I am at picking men.  I need to be in control of my own uncontrolled life.  This roller coaster needs guard rails if you know what I mean.  I feel like it's a reasonable request. You can do whatever you want with MarySue as long as I don't know a damn thing about it. I mean, NOTHING. Ugh... Now I just feel a little inadequate and pretty much useless. Thanks.
I wish there was a way to get myself away from this terrible name tag I have given myself, 'Broken.' Something to that affect must have been tattooed to my forehead without my knowledge because it seems like guys often assume that I have some deal breaker quirk and they don't really bother trying to look deeper to see that its just not true.  I'm loyal to my death, and I'm forgiving to even the most heinous of crimes against love.  No one sees that  Pretty much all they see is that I'm energetic, adventurous, and dumb.  Well, okay, the dumb part is a rouse to get some attention, but hey I'm not perfect; but I sure as hell ain't as bad as little miss crack-addict-daddy-issues that your chasing over there.  I'm not a crazy bitch girlfriend that demands to know who you're hanging with every night of the week, nor am I demanding that you send me hourly texts to say 'thinking of you' or 'i love you.'  That shit is sooooo middle school. Actually, all of this shit is.
I'm tired of listening to grown adults coo over baby animals, women get excited about cupcake earrings, and all that self entitlement on denial of pre-martial sex.  I'm getting bored with your silly and childish quirks.  Can't a decent girl like me just have a grown and decent man (he doesn't even have to be perfect, imagine that)?

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Sea legs, confirmed

Get ready for some interesting news; I've got my wobbly legs! Indeed, the rumors are true. I experienced my first alcohol induced wobbles; at a great party by the way. Kudos for the dashing host who helped me get very tipsy and he didn't even take advantage of me.  I also want to thank everyone else who was supportive and also did not take advantage of me (even though they probably don't read my blogs, I'd like the Internetz to know they are pretty cool cats).  I think it was a great experience for a first-timer like me.  I didn't get overly drunk nor did I experience a hangover for the following morning.  I was obscenely hungry for the next 24 hours, but I'm not sure if that had anything to do with the previous night.  For those of you who care, I partook of these liquors: 151 rum, goldschlager, jagermiester, and vodka; these were in the form of various shots and mixed drinks.
After that whole deal I was set to my herculean task of doing all the work for Finals Week.  I finally got my TA job squared away in time to grade all the final essays for the World Prehistory class. Grade 37 papers by Monday 5pm; I can do that (just barely). Go to optional statistics exam on Tuesday? Sorry, no can do; I've got 10 pages of text to pull out of my ass for my Archaeology Methods course. Wednesday morning I have a Biological Anthropology exam, then I'm off to do some more writing before the Big One is due Thursday morning.  I have a strong suspicion that I won't actually be able to write all 10 pages, but I'm hoping that I can write it eloquently enough to scrape a C out of it.
I am home free by Friday! (I'm assuming I will be sleeping from 4pm Thursday until Friday noon-ish) I am looking forward to staying in bed for nearly 24 hours. I think I deserve it. Maybe I'll go all out and order pizza for dinner on Friday night.