Thursday, December 22, 2011

Ask, and You Shall Receive?

My life might be close to being shambles in many different, sometimes completely unrelated areas, I might drink too much, I might be home sick, I might be guarded and suspicious that my dude will never commit to me the way I want him to, I might be afraid, slightly insecure and a little bit angry.

But yesterday I took charge of one area of my life. I did something absolutely terrifying that took a lot of guts on my part. I did something terrifying and was (finally!) rewarded for it.

After six months of working at my company, I asked for a raise.

I was afraid to hear a negative answer. When my boss called me into his office for a chat at the end of that same day I sent him an email with my raise request, I was fully prepared to keep my face as straight as possible and not let any disappointment seep through to the surface.

He is always an intimidating dude when it comes to discussing serious financial things. He is the type of a person who has the "fuck you" face even when he says yes to something. I nearly crapped my pants at the thought of going into his office and sitting down, one-on-one, to discuss all matters concerning my personal financial security.

But I heard something entirely beyond my expectations. I heard that I am probably the best employee they currently have at the company and that even though it is typically not within the company's policy to give employees raises so soon after their hire, that I was absolutely worth being dangled a proverbial monetary carrot in front of.

And who was I to disagree?

Granted, the raise, as I was told, would not be a great amount. And I would not see the increase in my paycheck until the end of January...

But I did it. For the first time in my life, I asked for a raise. And for the first time in my life, not only did I received it, but I was also validated as a kick-ass employee that I always suspected I would grow up to be.

And, damn, it feels good to be rewarded!

Saturday, December 17, 2011

Broken Teeth and Wounded Hearts

A tragedy transpired recently upon which I was left disfigured and disappointed.

Okay, maybe not exactly disfigured, but pretty self-conscious and a bit terrified at the same time. You see,Ii have had this filling in my front tooth for about a year. My last dentist was kind of shitty when it came to certain things, like performing routine examinations on one's teeth and I, unfortunately, was one of his involuntary victims.

A year ago, he blissful filed away at my front tooth that only had a minimal amount of cavity evidence and slapped a filling to cover up the gap. A year later, (this week to be exact) as I was happily munching away at a slice of cheese, I felt something chip off in my mouth. Suddenly, the previously soft and mushy slice of cheese in my mouth started tasting rather crunchy. I pulled out a little piece of white solid from my mouth and felt a newly-formed gap between my front teeth with my tongue. Much to my horror, my fears were justified as I felt a small chunk of tooth missing from the front of my beautiful veneers.

Son of a bitch!

I was supposed to see The Banker that night but almost canceled on the count of him seeing me looking like a beauty queen at a meth addict pageant, but he insisted on me coming over. He said that I would look beautiful even if I had George Washington's wooden teeth.

Whatever, man. That cheesy line worked and shortly after work that day I was on a subway to his place, trying not to smile to strangers with my toothless void.

The Banker gave me a hug as soon as I entered his apartment and, slowly but surely, I started to feel all the tension just melt away. I had all the intentions, mind you, to speak my mind and inquire him about his prowls on the dating site that night. But, just like my tension, I felt my anger and the sense of urgency just melt away as he wrapped his arms around me.

He hugged me, he reassured me, he made my worries go away, even if temporary, for a couple of minutes or so. We settled on his couch and he laid down, with his head resting on my lap as we eventually started drifting away to sleep after our respective days of work and health-related troubles.

It was not until shortly past midnight that I started to feel myself waking up. It was one of those lucid dream-like states, where I was aware that I was awake but I was still drowsily engrossed in a dream I must have been having just a second prior to waking up. I felt my sense of reality tighten around the fact that it must have been late and that I should be getting home. I wanted to say, "I am falling asleep.." to The Banker to let him know that I should be leaving to go home shortly.

Instead, I said..

"I am falling in love..."



It sort of came out very awkwardly, like "I am falling in lov..shhlalalblahblahargh... I'm falling asleep! I mean I'm falling asleep!" I was trying to eat my own words and try to quickly think of what I really wanted to say.

The lights were dim in the room, otherwise, if he had been fully awake, The Banker would have seen my face turn beet red. I tried to play it off as a no-big-deal type of situation. But, really, I just wanted to turn back time and take back that Freudian slip of a tongue. Shortly after, still mortified, I gathered my things and left his place to go home.

"See ya this weekend!" I said and slammed the door behind me in a rush to get out of there and be left alone with my thoughts. I am foolish to even hope that he had not heard what I said.

I think he just wanted to ignore it and pretend like he did not hear me.

To be truthful, I just have this feeling (and whenever I get this feeling, I am usually right) that he is just not going to get involved with me past the point we are already at. And instead of keeping my distance, I say crap like that to him.

Careless. I am never this careless. I don't like this one bit.

Friday, December 9, 2011


I like boys
They like me
They look so good
in they jeans

Want you to be the one
And my on-ly
I wanna be faithful
But I can't keep my hand out that cookie jar

I am conflicted. And the fact that it is eternal summer here, and my man isn't say the things that I want him to say, and that the temptation is always there is not making things any easier.

I am just sort of feeling that he is full of secrets. Not a lot of secrets, but just some that he does not want me to know about.

Like the girl that wrote on his wall for his birthday yesterday..:

"happy birthday, babe. It was great seeing you in Chicago. x"

Okay she could be a friend, but not a lot of MY friends call ME babe. Well, I guess, she's not even that pretty. Or at least that's what I keep telling myself to keep away from feelings of jealousy. But still...

And I would not call any of my non-single friends "babe". Just saying.

Don't get me wrong. I want this guy more than anyone else in the world. He just has to show me more sweet, sweet loving, loving.

Otherwise, it's not like there aren't any other viable options for extracurricular entertainment...

I'm just saying.