There's Always Vodka

Unless I drank it all. In that case, we'll need some more.


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Dating a whole family

Recently, at a job interview, I was talking with another candidate, and we got on the topic of dating men with children. She mentioned that she had two grown children, and was just getting back into dating. She recently started dating a man with children, and was wondering if it would be difficult. I told her that I had no children, but my boyfriend has two. She asked me if it was hard dating a man with kids, so I told her the truth. Yes. It was hard, at first. Sometimes it still is.

I thought long and hard before I said yes to that first date. I knew it would mean that I would never come first in his life, and I was right. Even now, two years later, if there is a kid-friendly event that we plan on attending, he first asks his kids if they want to go. At that point it no longer matters that I want to go. The kids, specifically his son, have final say, because they might get bored.

I can’t complain because I knew what I was getting into. I made the decision to stay and I’m happy I made that choice.

A close friend of mine recently started dating a man with kids, and I couldn’t help but think she was making a mistake. I didn’t know if she could handle not being the center of attention. Thankfully, it seems to be going really well for her, and I’m glad I did not voice my thoughts. I would hate it if she walked away from a happy relationship, because of my experience.

The kids are terrific. They are funny, polite, and well-behaved. They rarely cause me any trouble. Only on occasion do I get any attitude from a 10-year-old girl, who is clearly competing with me for her father’s attention. I can’t blame her. The poor girl is also competing with her 13-year-old brother, and more often than not he wins. It’s understandable, he’s a boy and a mini version of my boyfriend. A gamer and all around nerd. I think his sci-fi geekery is my influence, though. I don’t apologize for that; it makes him cooler.

I’m very lucky to have them in my life. There are, of course, times when everything gets a little too overwhelming. When that happens I go someplace by myself and have some quiet time. Usually, that’s just closing the door to our bedroom, and reading a book. If I don’t close the door I’ll have a little visitor that comes in to talk to me, or just wave at me and then walk away. It’s cute, but not when I’m in one of my moods.

Even though life with my boyfriend and two kids, that are not mine, can sometimes be stressing, I still believe I made the right decision. I’m happier for it.

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Golden Lush Awards

This past Sunday were the Golden Globes. My boyfriend and I try to watch all the movies nominated so that we can have informed opinions about all the nominees and the  subsequent winners. Honestly, we just like watching movies.

Anyway, when awards season comes around we always go through our ritual, and then party like we are actually there. This year I partied a little too hard. So the lessons I learned from this Sunday I will be applying on Oscar night.

They are as follows:

A) Do not try to keep up with BF – he is twice my size, therefore he can drink more.

B) Remember to pace myself. It’s not a race.

C) I do not need to take a drink every time someone says “surreal” during the red carpet pre-show. THEY ALL SAY “SURREAL”!

D) Drink lots of water!

I would like to wish myself good luck, because I will probably not remember any of these. See you after the Oscars!


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Merry fucking Christmas

My heart has been heavy for the past few days. It’s been a difficult Christmas.

A few days ago my boyfriend and I found out that his ex-girlfriend died in an auto accident. It was horrible, and I feel the loss of life deeply. She wasn’t my friend, but she touched the lives of many people, and for that I mourn her loss.

As for me, I hated her, and I can’t stop crying over the times I wished her dead. I have never hated another human being in my life, but I hated her. I still hate her.

It’s hurting me to see how much my boyfriend is hurting. He’s trying to hide it from me, but I see it. After all, he’s the love of my life, and I know him better than anyone – possibly more than he knows himself.

He still loves her, and I don’t blame him for that. I may not like his feelings for her, but I do respect them, and I would never trivialize them. I love him too much, and feel his pain too deeply to ignore the truth.

His memories of her were crushing me during the first year of our relationship. He couldn’t go a single day without mentioning her. Everything reminded him of her. Movies, music, places, art – even the perfume I wore. It hurt me, but I kept quiet and let him talk about her. I understood he needed to heal. I just hope I was able to help him. Maybe I was crazy to try to pursue a relationship with him; I knew he was damaged. I just didn’t realize he was more damaged than I was.

I have my own reasons for hating her. Reasons that affect me greatly, and will not let me forgive her. Reasons that my boyfriend doesn’t fully understand, so he thinks are just irrational on my part. Even now, after her death, they still affect me, and I just can’t let it go.

It’s been almost a week since her death, and this is the first opportunity I’ve had to write about this. My boyfriend is out paintballing with his friends, and I hope he’s having fun; he needed a break. The kids are sleeping in their rooms, and I’m sitting in our bedroom trying to work out my feelings.

My feelings and I have had a tumultuous relationship. I have never been good at expressing them, other than the occasional bitch fest. Okay, maybe more than occasional. I also have never been good at trusting people – at all. I don’t trust anyone but myself. Entrusting my heart to my boyfriend was the hardest thing I have ever done. I gave a piece of myself away to someone who may or may not cherish it as I do. This may not last, and while there is no doubt in my mind that I want to spend the rest of my life with him, I don’t know if he feels the same.

I believe him when he says he loves me, but then again, he’s been quick to say that to a lot of other people before me. There are just no guarantees. I may not be who he wants to spend his life with. I know those are just my insecurities, but this is hard for me.

I know another part of my anger stems from the timing of this situation. It’s the holidays, and this is our first Christmas together in the same house. It was supposed to be special. It was supposed to be filled with joy and promises of a beautiful future. Instead it will always be tainted by her death and the memory of her. It’s just one more thing I will never be able to forgive her for.


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Not a real post or anything even close to a real post

This post from Super Miami Bro pretty much sums up Art Basel in Miami this past week.

You go to the art events expecting to see this…

She wouldn't stop staring at me.

She wouldn’t stop staring at me.

And you get this…

I actually dig her style.

I actually dig her style.

There really wasn’t much new this year at Art Miami. The same ‘ol galleries are still bringing the same ‘ol pieces they have been for years. Let’s hope next year is better.


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Time for some cute!

Nights are the worst. Night is when my mind races and I can’t always make sense of my thoughts. I start obsessing about all the things I need to do, and then I cry as all my fears start invading my thoughts, and eventually my dreams. I have had a tough few nights lately.

I needed something to make me smile today, and I found this. It worked. I’m posting it here for anyone else who might also need to smile.