Buckle up the ride will be long and bumpy folks, but totally worth it...I hope!
For good reason, I’ve been missing in action. OK OK, not for good reason but at this point if you read my blog semi-regularly you know that work begins to consume most of my day and I have little time to write. In any man’s river, I’m going to catch you up on er-thang Faith since the anniversary of my born day.
Because the boy drama of my life is more exciting I’ll lead with work drama. Drum roll please, I gots me a new gig! No you didn’t read that wrong. No more galloping around the free and not so free world for me. I’ll be parked in an office, OK more like a dressed-up cubicle, in the largest building in downtown Philadelphia. Alls yeah friends, I’ll be working in risk management in the hopes of becoming one of the youngest regional risk managers for an entertainment powerhouse. That might include a change of residency to LA… flashy lights!
Hold the phone! Can you imagine me in LA? What What! Sun kissed tresses and an all year tan, who gone check me boo (in my Nene Leakes voice)? I know I went down a fantasy spiral for a minute but here’s another, moving west appeals to me more than finding Lance Gross butt butterball nekkid ready to dance in my bedroom. That’s major!
Vulgarity aside, I’ve always dreamed of a bi-coastal life. Not to mention, Model Friend already lives in the Hills. When opportunity knocks, opening the door is all I can do. On a practical note, I get my old life back. Yup, that means making plans with friends and actually attending.
Sidenote, I’m slightly nervous about the new position you know the whole am I making the right decision thing. If I can conquer this professional hurdle the race is already won. Taking on an uncomfortable experience only helps you grow as a person, in my opinion. I know I’m ready…I hope!
In boy news, Jon B. exited stage left with a big ole bang! During work hours he pulled a Brett Favre forcing me to change the iPhone settings, no more preview text messages. I was in the middle of a team room pounding the pavement when a ginormous schlong (no exaggeration) showed up. Sidenote: The man’s HUNG! I’m not a prude, however some things are just inappropriate. You don’t see me sending the vajajay via text and I would expect that an adult man would know that his peen is not welcome phone art, especially during work hours. And to add more grease to the pan, my phone sat between me and Juvenile Junior Staff Member. I pray he didn’t see the man meat. If he did, he didn’t mention it to me but of course that’s not typical office conversation.
Juvenile Junior Staff Member probably thinks I’m a freak #shamehernameisfaith!
Later that night I spoke very directly to Jon B. I asked him point-blank, are you trying to be my fcuk-friend? There was a long pause. Lately I’ve done away with tact! Since he’s sending his dcik through text, tact ain’t his strong suit either. His response, he didn’t think I was that type of girl but if I’m down, he’s down. Otherwise he’s really interested in “catching up.”
Hmmmm….again, catching up is reserved for old friends, not sure we qualify! I closed the door but left the window open, besides this peen picture misstep Jon B. ain’t too shabby. We did chat a scosh after the awkwardness of the fcuk-friend wore off. Turns out JB’s back in school and starting a non-profit. Sidenote, ladies if you’re in the market for a Jon B look a-like I can hook you up with a number. Added bonus being the peen! In any man’s river we haven’t spoken in a couple of weeks so I guess he smelled what I was cooking. His number’s saved in my phone though in case I need to dust him off and put him back on stage.
Mailroom Boy’s sporadic texting is slightly annoying. He keeps trying to re-insert himself into my life-space as if we shared something magical. Of course I can’t blame him, I am fantabulous. Sorry, I detoured down vain Faith lane, excuse my obnoxiousness. But seriously I think being friends with MB is counterproductive. We do have fun when we’re together but his brand of tea suits me not.
I’m just going to come out and say it, me and the Spaniard are together again. Somewhere inside of me lives a masochist! That might have gone too far but you know what I’m saying. I pray the third time’s a charm. Before you run off thinking I caved because I’m weak, I’m not and the thought has already crossed my mind. We hashed our relationship almost to death over the past few weeks. It shows effort on his part because men hate talking about anything, right? I feel we’re in a good place…most days.
The Spaniard has, for lack of a better term, respect issues which manifest in a lack of communication skills. Before going apeshit he’s not physically or verbally abusive, that hashish doesn’t fly in Faith-zone. In my mind, it’s partially religi-cultural. He’s an Arab Muslim, not typically known for their respect of womenfolk. I’m not knocking his religion or his place of origin. However, I do understand breaking a horse requires patience. Not to mention lifetime lessons aren’t unlearned in a day. I can’t expect him to change who he is at his core but I do expect behavior modifications. I told him this directly. Remember not about tact these days!
Before you menfolk get all snippy with me and say you shouldn’t be with someone if you want to change him, hold the phone! Change may not be the appropriate word but it’s what I used, so lump it. And for hashishes and giggles I’ll give you a personal example. Old Faith was a snarky bish. I’m comfortable admitting that because she is Faith no more. Years of childhood iskabibbles coupled with an undeniable mountain of arrogance created a monster. It hit me one day that if I ever wanted to form lasting connections with people I’d have to change my ways. Not that I needed to change who I was at my core (I’m good peoples) however, my behavior needed a make-over. And now, I’m still sarcastic but I wouldn’t call myself a bish. I understand the importance of treating others with the same respect I expect in return. To get it you gotta give it, works the same way for love, Booyah!
Anywho, I told The Spaniard his leash is short. I’m not walking him and shoveling hashish this time around. Either he wants to be with me, in an adult relationship, or he doesn’t. If he does, act right! And the same rules apply for me.
Ruining a relationship ain’t a one man/woman job, so I’ll take my share of the blame. My issue, I’m a non-confrontational passive-aggressive bottler, look who read a psyche book this weekend! It’s not in my nature to tell someone he hurt my feelings, it seems so wimpy. I’d rather just let the uncomfortableness (not a word) of the moment pass and dictate the resolution.
Example, The Spaniard makes tentative plans with me but never solidifies. Day of said tentative plans I’m stuck in limbo, sometimes he shows and other times he does not. In his mind the plans aren’t concrete so there’s no reason to say boo to me if he doesn’t intend to go through with said plans. In my mind this is not only rude it’s all the way DIRESPECTFUL, caps oh so necessary! Instead of piping up and delivering major o_O (stank eye) coupled with sistah girl tude, I prefer to make other arrangements. Problem averted, partially. Back up plans solve my time issues but don’t cure the underlying disease, his total lack of respect for my time and his commitment to me. It also causes issues if he’s only running late for said tentative plans and he shows up to empty house, restaurant, park…you smell what I’m cooking. In those situations, which happen more often than you may think, I have to deal with his tude. Granted his tude and my tude are way different…I don’t like being ignored. He is the king of ig and it literally drives me to levels of anger I didn’t even know existed.
Seeing red can’t be healthy. Sheesh for a bottler my emotions run high, right? I need to chase my chill pill with a dash of Vodka!
End of the story, we’re both working on making it right. Did I add we’re both stubborn as hell and neither likes admitting wrong?
In any man’s river, The Spaniard asked me to move in with him…
6 Pardon My French:
1. I'm mad I'm taking this all personally, like I even have a Nickname & am a regular in your regularly scheduled hootnanny.
2. Because of this, I'm clearly vested in all that you just broke down. That means: I'm givin' you SO MUCH side-eye right now that they've wrapped back around to the front & are just sitting akimbo (aka-cockeyed).
3. Sigh...I've lived this in some variation & I'm telling you to dust off your track shoes--wait, I'm talking to you, buy some--& race ever so swiftly towards the EXIT.
4. The Winter ain't even on us yet for you to be making rash decisions to skip straight past Cuddle Buddy to...hell, whatever awaits you behind co-ed door #3.
5. Now I must go wash off my emotions. You got me too wrapped up in this!! DAMN YOU!!
Whoa, I had to stop reading to write down some thoughts.
Jon B. sent you a text spotlighting a picture of his junk and then, when you confronted him he actually said he didn’t think I was that type of girl....
What the hell?
Nosy ass side note: Was the photo of him in an alert state or in a relaxed state? It must have been alert, right? And was there a frame of reference to tell how, uh, alert it was or was it an extreme closeup?
I told you it was nosy.
I do understand breaking a horse requires patience.
Love. That!
Okay, I was totally with you about second chances and laying down some boundaries and then you sucker punched me with his invite for you to move in.
I say this because you're my VIP: please don't move in with him. Alright I'm stepping back, you did not ask for advice and I offered it unsolicited.
No more from me about that unless you start specifically asking for my thoughts.
OH Shit! I didn't see the move-in part until I read CG's comment....had to rewind
(my eyesight is slipping from all of this extra school work, add the lack of dick, and sleep, and eye candy, and I'm one blind diva)
ok, first reading your issues in this post with the Spaniard had be reliving situations with little boy Klein....sigh, first they are both Muslim, and although Klein was born & raised in America, by a Christian mom....he still goes to mosque & is therefore influenced by the males there. (I'm sorry, I still don't get the men sit on one side & women sit on the other side thing...oh and he hated some of clothing choices...if he could he would have made me wear a blanket out...wait, this isn't about me, it's about you...)
Don't move in with him....it's a recessh and all, but you got a new J-O-B (yeeeaaaaa) and I'm thinking unless the economy double tanks tonight, and fat cat bankers are jumping off buildings, there's no need to rush...
no need to rush...
happy you have a snuggle buddy though, winter is like what 5 weeks away!
Wow! Penis through the phone and a new job! It seems like you have a lot going on. Why do guys think that is so sexy? Penis through the phone might be ok in high school but girls want more. I, like all women, just wish that if guys want a play-buddy, they should just be open and honest. Most of us are bigger freaks then they are. LOL
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@Aweezy, please stop Akimbo Slicing me my heart can't take it. And I so hear you. My mind is telling me everything that you said right here but I just can't help myself. IDK...it's one of those weird things. If I looked at my situation I would tell me to wake the uck up drop The Spaniard. I've even said those words to myself and I tried dating boys in the summer I really did but it was just blah...I think I need counseling.
@CG, so uh yeah he sent me a picture via text of his peen in a state of major alertness, relative close up. And I don't consider this prying it's sharing among friends.
Thanks for the unsolicited solicited advice. I wouldn't write it if I didn't want someone to give me something else to think about. And just as a FYI, the move is coming shortly. He should be in his new place in about four weeks. He is moving in without me even though he keeps pushing the issue. I'm standing my ground, we're not ready for co-habbing.
@Diva, yeah some of The Spaniard's arse backward behavior reminds me of posts you wrote about Klein. I'm positive it's a religious/cultural thing. We're working on it a lot. And don't you worry I'm not moving in with the man. I refuse refuse refuse to go against my word on this one. REFUSE!
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