it's a new revelation...

down down do ya thing do ya thing do ya thing

down down do ya thing

uhhhh.

don't mind the song, the damn thing has been stuck in my head all day. needed some way to finally get it out.

(it didn't work)

i have so much on my mind lately. i seriously need to scream, run, hit something, anything at all. i need an outlet to get everything off of my mind.

let me start this out for you, though. it turns out a lot has happened since i last posted. so, okay: here goes.

• i had my beautiful baby girl on christmas eve. and thank goodness, so far no postpartum depression. i have depression towards other things, but not towards her.
• my toddler is driving.me.insane. seriously. they were not kidding when they called it the terrible twos.
• boyfriend/fiance whatever and i finally set a date. july 15 2011 is the lucky day. and i'm letting my kid sister plan it. i can see a disaster in the making.

now, even though we're planning on having our wedding then, we're actually going to get married in a courthouse in a couple month's time. this is because i have decided to join the army. in order for my girls to stay together and for me to retain full guardianship of them, me and the man are going to get married.

now...speaking of the man, he's improved some. not much, but some. surprisingly he is still at hooters and is even in the talks of getting a raise. maybe. he was amazingly supportive during our daughter's birth. he even helped take care of me in the hospital afterwards, which surprised me further. he's been working his ass off at his job in order to bring home enough money so i don't have to go to work right away.

makes me fall in love with him all over again.

exxxxxcccceeeeppppttt for the intimacy issues.

we had sex one time while i was preggo. he was scared of hurting the baby. right. like he's that well endowed. not. we had sex for the first time at 5 weeks postpartum. man, it was a long time coming.

and we haven't had sex since. i keep trying to make advances; nothing happens. i miss him. i miss the excitement we had in the beginning our relationship. now everything just seems like routine. kiss and 'i love you' every now and then.

kinda feels like a roomie instead of my future husband and father of my children. sad.

i hate watching disney movies and romantic movies now. used to enjoy them. imagined having that fairy tale ending one day and meeting my prince charming.

now i'm stuck with a pain in the ass. he's not romantic, immature, doesn't have compassion, doesn't talk to me about his problems, blows my problems off, doesn't believe in anything 'lovey dovey'.

and somehow, the butterflies are back with him. everytime he touches me, it sends fireworks exploding throughout my body. he puts a smile on my face just by the thought of him being home from work soon. i see him everyday with our daughter. yes, he might not change her diapers or do anything 'icky' with her, but he loves cuddling up to her and talking to her. he loves being her daddy. it pulls at my heart strings to see those two together. doesn't help that she looks exactly like him.

we might argue, blow each other off, get tired of each other, get pissy with each other..

but i wouldn't have it any other way. he might be a pain in the ass for the rest of our life together.

but he's my pain in the ass. it makes everything worth it.

Another day goes by...

Another day, another time.

Another headache.

It only just made me realize how many people could change their opinion about me just by reading this blog.

But this is the only way I can really express what I feel.

Only way to get the real me to show through.

I might be a bitch.

I might be a horrible person.

At least I'm honest about it.

How many people go through their days, living a lie?

So many people are walking around with this huge ass grin on their face, yet on the inside they're screaming.

They're the ones who are going to die from being overly stressed out.

They're going to have heart attacks, high blood pressure, are more likely to be obese, more likely to be depressed.

Not me.

I might not express my feelings to the people around me, but I'm sure as hell not keeping them bottled up.

It will not be good to one day snap and take it out on the people I love.

So, I write.

I roleplay, I blog, I create stories based on actual events.

Beware if you want to know the real me.

I might not be as innocent and naive as everybody takes me to be.

Everyday I hear:

'You're so sweet', 'You're way too innocent', 'You couldn't do anything crazy', 'I wish everybody was as sweet and cute as you'.

Seriously, people. Come on.

I've taken thirteen friggin years of acting classes.

Of course I can act sweet when need be.

Just don't piss me off or mess with my family.

Mess with them, you'll regret it.

I'm like a Roman candle that's about to explode.

Like a great man once said,

"Light fuse and walk away may work for a Roman candle, but not so much for the wrath of a woman scorned."

The inevitable has happened...

I have become pregnant. Sure, it happened a while ago since I'm officially out of my first trimester on Saturday, but still.
I don't know how to feel about this one.
Don't get me wrong: I have no sour feelings about becoming a new mom all over again.
It's just the fact of who the father is.
Again.

Why do I always do this?
One fleeting moment I feel as though the world is right and I have my soulmate by my side. Sure, we have our moments when I absolutely want to strangle his last breath out of him...
But I don't.
God, help me, there are times when he deserves it.
But I'm better than that.
I'm above murder.

I think.

With my previous relationship, the father of my completely amazing daughter was controlling, emotionally and mentally abusive, psychotic, paranoid...You name it.
And yet I refused to see behind the so-called 'love' I felt for him.

How stupid can a woman possibly be?

I thought we were going to get married.
Have a big house, 2.5 kids, and a golden retriever.
Make a home.

My dreams came crashing down on me when I was five weeks pregnant.
That was the day I told him the news.

"I have the most amazing news- we did it! We're pregnant!"

Which was then followed by a swift kick to the groin, causing me to fall to the ground in pain.
My sister witnessed it, called the police, and helped me into the house.

My daughter is never going to meet her sperm donor.
Not if I have any say in it.



Flash forward to the present.

My daughter absolutely adores my boyfriend.
She even said 'dada' before 'mama'.
My little girl is almost 16 months now, and we've been together since she was 5 months old.
To her, he's her daddy.

Yet, what the hell am I doing with a man who is an entire decade older than I?
Yes. I thought he was mature, stable, safe.

I was wrong.

He's a ten-year old trapped in a thirty-year old's body.
He has four kids that he can barely support with his weekly payments.
He's stuck in a cooking job at Hooters that doesn't pay shit.
Paying close to 150 dollars a week in child support.

How the hell is that going to help pay our bills?
Not to mention that he's been fired three times already this year.

He can't keep a job. He can't keep his temper controlled when somebody does something he doesn't like.

Did I mention he never went to high school?
Yes.
Never went.

Means no GED.
No chance for a decent job.

I had him going to classes.
Does he go anymore?
No.
Says he can do it online.
Has he been on my computer?
No.
He sits on his ass.

I swear, men are useless.

And now I'm having his child.
What was I thinking?
Having a child with a man who can't emotionally nor financially support the four he already has?

I once read in a fellow blogger's discussion that she wished that friends had slapped her when they knew she was making a mistake.

I would like the same attention.

Somebody smack me.
I'm begging you.

First and foremost

Why is it that everthing never goes according to plan? For instance:

President Obama. Don't even get me started.
Adopting children out of third world countries. Yeah, there's a start. We try to help them, they say we're kidnapping.
Love. Hearts. Romance. Relationships.
Solving world hunger.
Tax cuts. Can we say millions of lay offs?
Life.

That's basically all I can come up with at the moment, for my mind is temporarily jumbled due to work and it's outrageous hours that I must uphold.

Sometimes it'd be great to be eight years old again.

No responsibility, no cares, no worries. Nothing to plan except the next game to play.

Fast-forward twelve years.

And you'll come upon a twenty-year-old single mother to the most amazing young girl in the world. Sure, most of the time I just want to sink away into the abiss while pulling my hair out...But then she gives me that smile and reaches out to me.
Right then, it is worth it.

When I say single, let's get one thing straight.

Yes, I have a boyfriend. Technically. He's only romantic when he wants something, heavy smoker, drinker, paranoid, controlling, always bitching boyfriend. That would be him. And I say single because, for this entire year of our relationship, I've paid for, and taken care of, everything.
My supposed engagment ring, our first house, then our second, the bills, our food, our essentials, gas, my daughter...It's just all too much.
And what do I get out of it? Constant bitching and nagging.
When I don't clean: Why the hell do you constantly sit around and do nothing? This place is wrecked.
When I do clean: Why the hell do you even bother putting things away? I can never find anything that I need. You need to just leave shit alone.

Um, hello. If I clean, don't bitch at me that you can't find anything. Ask, and you shall recieve. Also, if I'd rather sit on my ass and play with my daughter after working a ten hour day supporting your ungrateful ass, then I'm more than welcome to.



What he doesn't know can't hurt him..

So there's this other guy. And yeah, he's attached to his own ungrateful bitch.
I've only known him for a month...
But, for the first time in what seems like eternity, I feel like a teenager again.
Butterflies, tummy flip-flops, sweaty palms, heart racing...
After a month, when he asked for a cigarette and I coyly asked what I would get in return...
He kissed me.
He's a great kisser. Never have I been able to close my eyes during a kiss. It just never felt right to give complete trust in another person to protect me. But with him, it's different..

And when I'm at home, leaning against my real boyfriend and enjoying a relaxing moment with him, all I can think about is kissing the other one...

I miss the adventure. I miss the excitement. I miss the rush you're supposed to feel when you kiss somebody for the very first time.

I miss feeling alive.

In the words of Macbeth, what's done is done.

No turning back.

At least not for now...

For at this current time, I'm chasing after the butterflies.