Oh Boy - Part One

It's been a long time coming. I've avoided talking about it because I really didn't know what to say. I'm not one to gush over a boyfriend and make everyone gag. Nor did I want to make this a place where I'd publicly complain about his quirks and our ups and downs. But I guess if I like to write about the stuff in my life, well he's been occupying a big fat chunk of real estate in it.

I was rereading some entries from the latter half of last year, particularly in the summer, and unfortunately, my first thought was to start this entry with "Stupid ass boy, I was so darn happy and angst-less for a good long stretch till he came along."

Oops. That's no good. But this week has been particularly hard. And though 1) this is a serious relationship, 2) it's the first serious relationship I've been in, and 3) it's already the longest I've ever dated anybody, I'm still wondering, how did I get here? How are we ever going to resolve our vast differences considering we are POLAR OPPOSITES on about everything I can possibly think of? We're already averaging what Wavy calls our "state of the union" talks about every other week if not more. And though every single one of my dear girl friends assure me this is normal early relationship stuff and constantly tell me things sound fine, they don't FEEL fine. I am tired. I don't want to continously readjust my expectations lower and lower until I just don't have them anymore or don't care. Nor do I want to be that bitchy demanding girlfriend because I know that doesn't work either.

I was looking at this entry about him and asked myself those questions again.
If I stopped this thing right now, would I be an a-hole? Yes.
If he were to suddenly go away, would I still be ok? No, yes, maybe. I don't know!!!!! Probably not but I'll survive anyway, goddammit!!!!!

Yeah, the tide seemed to have turned at the start of the new year. Suddenly, I was waist deep in this thing and it was capable of causing me to spontaneously burst into tears at times of stress and yuckiness. And naturally, that lovely courting phase where he was super attentive and promised to go to whatever I asked him to came to a standstill. I think perhaps, the icky middle has arrived!

Car-ma

Anyone who knows me, knows that I drive as if I were a race car driver in a past life. 80mph is my favorite speed. I walk like I drive and weave in between people if they are going abnormally slow and blocking my way. I'm also learning to use that horn when cars dart in front of me dangerously or if someone is picking their nose at a green light and not moving within three seconds.

So when I got a flat tire Sunday night and was forced to drive on the spare at 50mph ON THE FREEWAY for a good forty miles, it was truly some kind of driving karma slapping me upside the head. As I tried my hardest to stay at 50 in the slow lane, sometimes creeping up to 55 and having visions of my tire exploding off the car, I was high beamed, honked at, passed about a hundred times, and given countless dirty looks. It was excruciating.

I wish I could say that it taught me to be more patient and understanding with slow drivers. But that sentiment may have only lasted for a day. Just get out of my way people!