Ashleee has a boyfriend…?!?

I’ve got to say that I’ve missed blogging.  The last post I wrote was quite awhile ago and I admit that I haven’t had much to say until lately, mostly because I’ve been very, very happy.

I have a boyfriend.  I found him after I had given up and decided I wasn’t ever going to meet anyone and get married.   He’s not a jerk, not an alcoholic, not a game player, and not afraid of commitment.  He is open and honest about how he feels, tells me about 20 times a day that he loves me and thinks I’m beautiful.  I fall asleep every night cuddled up in my favorite place of all places: the nook, that special spot right between his shoulder and chest…  I wake up in the morning to him nuzzling my neck and wrapping his warm arms around me.  I feel like a teenager again, and I am head over heels in love with this guy.   He is thoughtful, funny, kind, affectionate, smart, handsome, sexy, and uh….ahem, well endowed…

No, I’m not making this up.  It’s true. I found a unicorn!  And the very best part of all of this is that I am not afraid to receive everything he is willing to give me.  We recognize we’ve found something very special with each other and we’re not going to let it pass us by.

Now in response to a recent comment I discovered about me on another blog, I wanted to say this:  You might have been right.  There might have been a chip missing in me.  Maybe it was because of any number of jerks I had dated.  Maybe it was because I was abused by my alcoholic ex, or abandoned by the first real love of my life, or maybe it was me.  Maybe it just isn’t easy to find someone you’re compatible with.  What the hell do I know…?

I think the chip that was missing for me was the belief that I would ever be able to actually open up to someone and let them into my life…so maybe dating these jerks was just a self-fulfilling prophecy…who knows?   I’m hoping things work out with this new guy – we find out more about each other every day and continue to fall deeper and deeper in love.  But if it doesn’t, then I least I know that after all the heartbreak I’ve suffered, that I am still capable of love.

Apathy is the new black

…at least for me it is.

I have been silent for awhile… and no, it’s not because I have been having all sorts of amazing sex…it’s because I’ve been apathetic.

Where did this all start??

I found out Martin has a new girlfriend… stupid Facebook.  I hate Facebook…  I didn’t even go on there and my friend had to shove it in my face early one morning…  And even though I had let Martin go, couldn’t bear to keep him around as a beta orbiter for my own selfish needs, I never in a MILLION years expected to react the way I did…

Which was to start crying and then go day drinking and end up a puddled, blabbering mess by 4pm.

I think that triggered it…

And then a couple weeks later, every freaking loser I’ve dated and then subsequently ignored called me.  Monday – Loser #1, Tuesday Loser #2, Weds – ran into Loser #3.   Then on Thurs went out on a date with Old Dorky Guy #1 who, from his pics, looked about 20 years younger than he actually did in person. (eharmony date – needless to say, I cancelled my subscription shortly after).  Did I mention that Loser #1 had actually called and texted me a couple weeks before that Monday, and I ignored him then too?? OH, and did I mention that the Evil T also texted that same weekend.

All of this put me in an emotional tizzy. I’m sensitive.  TOO sensitive, and I think it was time that something…snapped.  I’m sick of allowing these men to affect me the way they do.

And as Rivelino advised me awhile back – don’t just write about dating – write about what you want.

And here’s what I want –

I don’t want to feel anything.

I am not very good at dating.  I don’t think I ever have been.  I am good at getting dates, but not actually dating. I lose my head. I fall in love, I get my feelings hurt, and my heart broken.  No more.

What have any of these relationships ever done for me?  Nothing.  NOTHING!  Well, maybe I’ve learned a lesson or two, the most important being: DON’T DATE ANYMORE!

And I’m not here to blame it on men.  Although some of them are jerks, but just as many of them are nice.  It’s really all my fault.  All of it.  All the bad decisions, the bruised pride, the shattered heart… all of it is my fault.  And I don’t seem to be changing my tune, because I still go after the bad boys and they still go after me.   Ok, ok, admittedly, the 2 nice guys I’ve gone out with in the past 3 years since I’ve been single weren’t exactly matches for me – one wore his button up shirt unbuttoned too low showing his gaudy gold chain, which only emphasized the tragedy of his pointy alligator shoes… and the other…well… the other nice guy had a small penis and talked too much.  Again, not a match.

So I’ve turned off the emotions.  Stopped responding to male attention – for example was hit on yesterday at the grocery store, guy chatted me up in the frozen section and nearly stalked me around the store until checkout.  Then told me how sexy I was in the parking lot.  He was totally my type.  He gave me his number.  I’ve already thrown it away.  Ron has been texting me a lot lately too and haven’t responded to any of his texts…

And yes, I know this means I’m wasting what little beauty my quickly waning youth has afforded me.  But this just beats the alternative – up and down, left and right, feeling happy, then sad, then stupid and resentful.  Enough already.

Winning the Lottery

A close friend of mine who probably knows me better than anyone said to me the other day:

“You are someone who puts yourself out there – it’s your worst and best quality.”

I think what she meant by that (as it was said in the context of discussing what occurred with Big Guy) was that despite all of the terrible dates and bad guys I’ve dated, I keep putting myself out there to get hurt again…

Now keep in mind, none of the guys I’ve hung out with or dated in the past 2 and half years since I’ve been single have gotten anywhere close to my heart to the point where they could really hurt me. .. Sure, some of them might have annoyed me, or maybe I got a little sad about them… but actually getting to me??  Nah, never happened once.  Not like how T  did, or Martin…

One of my biggest fears is being so wrecked by my relationships with T and Martin that I can’t allow myself to be vulnerable with another guy again…so everytime I feel myself retreating back into my victim cave, I snap myself out of it.  I’ve gotta put myself out there.  I need to keep my heart open.

I still believe in love.

And yesterday I was thinking:  finding a man who will love you and you can love back, is like winning the lottery.  If I never buy a ticket, then I’ll never have a chance to win.  Sure, those odds may be small, but they are odds nonetheless.

I like playing the odds.  So I gotta keep buying those tickets…

Protected: 1 day, 2 dates

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

We all just wanna be snowflakes

I have been quiet in the blogosphere for some time as there has been some things going on in my real life that have required my attention.

Leave it to my future baby daddy Solomon to snap me out of my digital silence.  While perusing his blog, I came across his latest post regarding an article from the Huffington Post written by a woman entitled, “Why You Aren’t Married”  I found the article itself to be well written, witty, and spot on in a lot of ways.  Solomon has a stimulating back and forth going on with a female commentator on his blog, mysteriously named “Author”.  Author does not like Solomon – that much is clear.  And since Author does not have a blog (that I know of) I can’t really say I know much more about her than that.

His response to one of her comments was particularly interesting and inspired me to blog about the swirl of thoughts it invoked…

You see, the *ONLY* thing that sets you apart and makes you special from a man is your ability to produce children. That’s why you’re so goddamn pissed off all the time: You can’t fulfill your biological purpose and you’re a lesser human being because of it. Though you may not know it, you can *feel* it so you try to explain your feelings away with a bunch of feminist rhetoric.

This got me thinking about another concept in the PUA blogosphere – snowflaking.  I have surmised that snowflaking is what a woman does when she wants a man to think she is different, that she is special (because apparently, no two actual snowflakes are ever alike).  Also according to PUA conceptualization, real life snowflakes DO in fact exist, but apparently do not reside in America.  I think the snowflake concept can be taken a politically correct step further to encompass the idea that human beings just want to feel special.  (Even those who DO reside in America)

And then that got me going down another path – feeling useless, feeling “un-special”,  and feeling like you have no purpose is perhaps one of the worst thing that could ever befall a person – woman or man.  Fulfilling my purpose, biologically, or otherwise, despite the fact that millions before me have done so, somehow makes me feel special.  Because I presently have no practical or desirable way to exercise that biological purpose (having children), I try to find my purpose elsewhere until, God willing, the stars align, I find a man of character that I am actually sexually attracted to, and we procreate together in a committed long term relationship.

So where all this mumbo-jumbo is going is this:  Solomon is right.  Now maybe I wouldn’t have put it exactly the way he said it, but the truth is this – if I can’t be a snowflake to man, then I want to be a snowflake somewhere else. I want to feel special because sometimes, I know I’m not.  And when I don’t feel special, when I can’t view myself as a snowflake (and not just in relation to a man) – yeah, it’s distressing.

If we were lucky as children, mommy AND daddy told us that we were special.  If we were unlucky, mommy and daddy didn’t tell us we were special at all and used some messed up reverse psychology to push us harder to succeed.  Either way, we grow up either trying to validate what our parents told us, or trying to prove to our parents (and/or ourselves) that we deserve to be told we are special.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to feel special. We all just wanna be snowflakes… but I think it’s probably a good idea to also live in reality and temper those feelings of snowflake fueled confidence with humility.

A girl and her dog

I love dogs.  And no, not in that crazy, dress them up in little outfits and hats, kinda love.  But the somewhat normal, love taking them on walks and hikes, playing fetch, and giving belly rubs kind of love.  I have 2 dogs myself – Russell and Benny, and they are very special to me.  Russell in particular

Before T and I moved into the house I’m presently living in, we talked about getting a dog.  I was still under the delusion that he would stop drinking and that I could change him, so I thought getting a dog would be a nice way to normalize us.  Better than getting pregnant, that’s for sure…

I got Russell at a dog adoption fair – he was with a rescue group who took in pregnant dogs and adopted out their puppies.  He was only 12 weeks old when I got him, but he was so sweet and adorable – still small enough to sit in my lap, albeit awkwardly, although I knew he would get big since his mother was a German Shephard…

Once in the new house, T’s drinking worsened and my denial grew deeper.  I had isolated myself from my friends and family, ashamed of who I had chosen as a boyfriend, and unable to ask for help or advice from anyone I trusted.  Because of his drinking, I was scared to really push him too hard, but the stress was beginning to wear on me.  My everyday life became a constant effort not to upset T so that he wouldn’t drink more, so we wouldn’t fight…he was a very mean drunk.

I would come home from work and nearly every day he would be drunk.  Having not worked a full day, or at all, he instead played video games and drank and by the time I got home there would be empty vodka and beer bottles strewn about our house.   So I wouldn’t have to fight with him, I would simply greet him, pretend everything was ok, and tell him I was taking Russell for a walk.

I looked forward to the walks I had with Russell, just as much as I know he did.  I would take out that leash and he would wag his tail furiously and do little doggy circle dances while waiting for me to get ready.  Our walks would be about 20 to 30 minutes, but I loved every second.  Here was another living, breathing creature who knew what I was going through and I could talk to him – he never judged me, he only loved me.  He always knew when I was sad – but playing fetch with him would make me smile as I watched him tumble over himself chasing his ball… After T would get particularly mean, and sometimes violent, Russell would curl up next to me and lay his head on my leg while I quietly cried – and I felt better.   In the lonely haze of T’s alcoholism, I sometimes felt that Russell was all I had.

As the drunken bouts grew worse, I needed more time away from the house – I would go to work early, and stay as late as I could, but would always come home in time to feed Russell.  I started taking him to the dog park where I could stay for an hour or so while he played with other dogs and I chatted with people who didn’t know I was the fool of a girlfriend to a bad drunk…

The night I kicked T out of the house – things were bad.  He was more drunk than I had ever seen him and in a bad mood.  I had had enough of tip toeing around him and this time didn’t back down from his temper.  I didn’t say anything to him – it was just a look I gave him.  He must have understood it –  I told him I was going out to a work function, and that’s when he exploded…  after some pushing, shoving, and broken glass, I locked myself and Russell in my bedroom and called T’s friend to come get him – I was reluctant to call the police – I was afraid of exposing the shame of my relationship to people that I worked with, as a criminal case, if filed, would sure to have been filed in the court I worked in…I thought – maybe if I just have his friend pick him up then no one would have to know.

Russell and I sat in my bedroom as T pounded on the door, screaming and yelling for me to get off the phone… I remember seeing Russell with his ears back and his tail between his legs.  He was shaking – and I realized I was too.  T broke down the door and stepped into the room – Russell tried crawling under the bed but he couldn’t fit and he began to whimper softly… I murmured to him that he was ok, it was going to be alright, and I gently stroked his head.  I remember staring at T trying to anticipate his next move with 911 already punched into my phone.    I saw the door, splintered and cracked with the knob hanging off, ready to hit send if he took another step towards me.

We stared at each other, but I don’t know if he saw my phone ready to dial 911.  Then he broke the silence and told me he wasn’t leaving but that he would sleep on the couch.   I said nothing as he walked back out of the room.  His friend came a few minutes later and put him in the car and drove away.

Dogs are amazing creatures – they don’t care about anything except loving you.  They don’t judge you when you’re weak, they keep you company when you’re lonely, and they make you smile when you think you’ve forgotten how.

 

“The Most Important Thing You’ll Ever Do”

Yes, it’s Friday night and I’m at home blogging… I think I’m coming down with something and Fringe is on, so I thought it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to stay in tonight.

Today I went to lunch with two friends of mine that I knew from my old job.   Mary is out on maternity leave and has a 5 month old bouncing baby boy.  Adrienne has a 10 month old adorable baby girl and has been back to work for a few months.  It had taken some time for the 3 of us to coordinate our schedules since we are all pretty busy, but I was glad to finally be able to sit and spend time with them and catch up.

Both babies were beautiful but…Mary’s baby boy made my heart stop.  Mary is Asian (like me) and seeing her baby made me think about what mine, if I were to ever have one, would look like…

We caught up briefly, asking about each other’s families, etc, etc and the talk soon turned to weaning baby off bottle, and at what point to start feeding solids… needless to say I had nothing to really contribute, but did my best to look interested and ask pointed questions throughout the conversation.  Mary wanted advice from Adrienne about sleep schedules and how to avoid diaper leaks at night…

I took turns playing with and holding each baby to give their mommies time to eat lunch and a moment away from fussing baby. I’m good with kids – I love them, and usually they love me.  I bounced Baby Boy on my lap, and wiped drool off teething Baby Girl’s chin, while the two moms chatted.  I was very intent on the crazy faces I was making to induce toothless, gummy laughter from both children, but I still picked up on the conversation.  And I heard this:

“Having a child is the most important thing you’ll ever do.”

If it wasn’t already mind numbingly obvious, I was the only woman at the table without a child, and on top of that, I wasn’t anywhere even close.

I politely pretended that I didn’t hear what Adrienne had said.  I didn’t want her to engage in an awkward reassurance, because she’s so sweet she would try.  And I didn’t want her to see the look on my face, because I’m not sure what it would reveal.

I look at my life and think for the most part, things are fine the way they are. Sure, I could use some help in the romance department, but otherwise, I’m pretty happy.  But that comment made me think – if having a child is the most important thing a person can do…what does that mean about my life?

Children are a wonderful thing.  A chance for you to leave something of yourself here in this world, long after your gone.  A living, breathing, human being whom you love unconditionally… I know why people want children.

I think I would like to have a child, but I don’t want to have a child just to have one… I want the whole package – mommy, daddy, and baby.  And I don’t want to have a child with just any man – I want to have a child with a man who will always be in his child’s life, regardless of whether the love between he and I, blooms or fades…a man who my child can always rely upon.  I know that if I never find the man that I am confident will be a great father, then it is likely I will never have a child.

So…if having a child is the most important thing I’ll ever do…what does it mean if I never have one?

Thoughts?

 

“You’re intimidating”

Although I have already decided that GT isn’t a long term match for me, there is something that is bothering me and I wanted to throw it out there to my readers.

What does it mean when a man says “You’re intimidating.”??

A little about me to give you a big picture:

1.  I’m a lawyer and I’ve been practicing for over 5 years now, but I don’t go around shoving it in people’s faces.  Often, I play it down, and don’t talk about it too much.   If I can avoid saying what I do for a living, I will.  Not because I’m not proud of it, but because I always get some weird reaction from it and I’d just as soon as not deal with it.

2.  I make good money.  I’m not the type to tell people what I make (here in LA, there are LOTS of people who feel they need to tell you how much they make, or how much something costs) I don’t go around telling people I’m rich, but I do have expensive taste and it tends to show.  Chanel, Gucci, Prada, Chloe, and Louis are all very close friends of mine…

3.  I will admit I am high maintainence – I get my nails and hair done religiously. I get my teeth whitened, and they are straight as an arrow.  I also get my eyebrows shaped, have done microderm abrasion, and laser hair removal.  I also have a bad shoe habit and like to get the latest gadgets.  Do I talk about this with guys I’m dating?  Not initially, no.  Do I ever expect anyone else to pay for any of that stuff? No.  I can pay for it myself.  Is it likely that people notice all this stuff?  Yes.  And no, I haven’t gotten any plastic surgery.

4. I’m aggressive in my job, but not the same way in my personal life.  I turn that off when I don’t have my lawyer hat on.  I would say I’m assertive and actually pretty easy going.

5.  I can be a ridiculous pushover and sucker.  The problem is that I see the good in everyone, doesn’t matter who they are, or what they did, I find something redeeming about everyone, even if I don’t like them as a person.  It’s also a good thing that I see people that way, but it gets me into trouble just as much as it benefits me.

Here’s the conversation between me and GT:

AK: I really need you to be more consistent with me.  I’m not saying I want to know if you’re my boyfriend or not, I’m just saying you should follow through with what you say you’re going to follow through with.

GT: The problem is that you’re intimidating…

AK: (puzzled look) How have I been intimidating you?

GT: It’s not anything you’re doing…it’s who you are…you’re secure in your life and I’m not. My life has been on hold for a long time because of x, y, z  (editing to protect his privacy).  And until I can a, b, c the x, y, z, then I won’t be in a position to give you what I know you deserve.

AK: But I know about x, y, and z, and it doesn’t bother me at all.  If it did, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you right now.

GT: I know it doesn’t because you’re such a sweet girl.  And when I think about you and me, of course I’m thinking long term…. Like, what are your parents going to think when they meet me?

AK: My parents? (Head cocked, eyes wide)

GT: Yeah, your parents.  I can tell they adore you and I don’t think they would like me very much because of x, y, z.

AK: My parents?  Why are we talking about my parents?

GT: Because I’ve been thinking about that…

AK: But why? I think you’re getting ahead of yourself.  It’s too soon for a conversation about you meeting my parents.  Let’s just figure out whether we are compatible with each other before we start throwing in family and what not…

GT: It’s just intimidating is all…

I see how he deflected his behavior onto me – I tell him he’s inconsistent and he basically says it’s my fault.  What he’s really saying is that because he’s starting to figure out that he won’t match up to me, there’s no point in him being consistent and reliable because he’s already decided it won’t go anywhere….  Another possibility is that he’s trying to intentionally mess with my head, but I didn’t get the sense that he was.  At least that’s my take on it.

But this “You’re intimidating” thing has come up several times with different guys so I’m curious what my readers think… Thoughts?

Celibate from intimacy…?

Since breaking up with T I have dated a few guys and have had sex with them, but I can say that I have never really achieved that level of intimacy that I’ve been craving.

Intimacy, at least for me, is something that takes a long time to build.  I have had sex with men and been affectionate, warm, and inviting, but not truly intimate.  It’s that unspoken familiarity between two people – feeling comfortable enough to curl up next to someone without restraint, knowing exactly how they are going to put their arms around you… those are the things that I miss.  

Sure, sex often leads to cuddling, affection, hand holding and kisses on the forehead, but it’s not the same.  I can have sex with someone and be responsive and engaged…but without the intimacy, without love…it’s not the same.  I hold back – GT and I have only really had sex the one time and things with him are so inconsistent that I hold back emotionally as well.  Not physically so much…maybe just a little because I’m still self-conscious, but with true intimacy, all that self-consciousness is wiped away.

I realize that the last person I was truly intimate with was T.  About 6 or 7 months ago we had had a brief tryst and it was there.   But it was bitter for me… And were my judgment to falter  again and I called him up, we’d probably attack each other as if there hadn’t been any time between us.  And though it might feel strange to feel that intimate with someone who has hurt me so much, it would be there anyway.

I now know that I could never have any realistic long term situation with GT, and frankly his inconsistency is beginning to wear on me.  The excitement of getting to know someone has faded – I am far too old to put up with games, whether they are inadvertent or not.  The little I have gleaned from him leads me to believe that although he may genuinely like me, he is far too selfish a person for me to ever seriously consider being with.  He is still caught up in the rockstar lifestyle and has a million balls in the air…I’m not foolish enough to think that he will ever change who he is – I learned a long time ago that you must take a man for who he is and never expect him to be anything but that.

I cannot say that I am sad.  Or unhappy.  I’m not either of these things.  But I miss feeling the weight of a man that I love on top of me.  I miss being able to wake up in the morning with a man I love fumbling with the sheets to get closer to me so I can feel his breath on my neck… I miss cooking for a man!  Haha, never thought I’d feel that way…  These are the treasures you get when you are intimate with someone.  And I have been celibate from these treasures for a long time…

Just be happy.

View from my balcony - the sun is just barely coming up.

As I type this I am sitting on my enormous balcony overlooking the Sea of Cortez.  The sun is rising, and I can see the gentle splash of the water against the rocks on the beach.  Roaring softly in my ear, the sea is calming and a beautiful blue, clear and refreshing.  This is the most peaceful I have been in a long time.

I’ve been here in Cabo San Lucas for 4 days and today is my last.  It was a short vacation, but exactly what I needed to recharge.  Working as hard as I do, I’ve been lucky enough to be able to afford a luxurious ocean front room with top notch service.  Every need I’ve had has been attended to on this trip and as I sit here, taking in this beautiful view, it’s made me think.

My life is just fine.  In fact, my life is great.

Like many 31 year old women I have worried about finding someone to spend my life with, as if that will complete me.  I worry about being alone, being filled with regret, and being unhappy.  But a woman with laser like focus on finding a man, and the aforementioned worries, is anything but attractive and is everything most men run screaming from.  Just as pursuit of sex has gotten me into trouble, sparking the original, and now defunct Ashleee Karen Celibacy Project 2010, I think the ragged pursuit of a life partner will also land me into trouble.

I’m not saying I want to stay single forever.  And I realize that many PUA’s will tell me that I’m running out of time and that my youth and beauty will fade… I know all this.  I have no illusions of trying to compete with women in their 20’s.  I know, short of plastic surgery, that my skin will sag, the wrinkles will one day set, and my lusturous mane of dark hair, will eventually turn grey.  But I’m willing to take that risk.  I would rather be old, happy, and single, than young, married and with a man who can’t make me happy.  

But if I just keep living my life, and being happy with it, then that happiness will attract the right person. Happiness is like a magnet.  Ever been at a party and hear a group of people laughing at something?  Maybe you look over and wonder what they’re laughing at, what’s so funny…?  You’re curious, you’re attracted, and you want to find out.  You want to know what’s so funny, so you can laugh too.

I think that’s my new approach – just be happy.  I am luckier than most people to have the life I live.  Some of that is a product of hard work, (this vacation wasn’t cheap), and some is the product of absolute luck.  So why focus on the things I don’t have?

Just be happy.