Status Quo Failure

Dear FireNY,

First, I’d like to thank you for your time and attention. Second, I’d like to commend you on your efforts of attempting to be a good person. However, I am reluctant to inform you that your efforts have fall short of the status quo, just as Peace and PR predicted.

You see when I first met you, I mistakenly thoguht that you were innocent. I was quickly proven wrong by your adventurous notions with Peace with an unregard care for your girlfriend at the time. However, that is not my bone to pick with you. It is Peace’s. But shame on you son.

See my faults with you lie with in this very sentence. Your ways of wording tell the whole story when you only speak half the truth. You dig your own grave and are too busy looking up to realize you are sinking, and quickly might I had at that.

Have you ever heard the term “give them just enough rope to hang themselves”. If not, you have now. Moreover, it is exactly what you have done. I gave you the rope and you made the noose and hung yourself from a tree. The best part is that you have no idea. You think your riding the high life.

Like I said, I regret to inform you that you are in fact not.

You started off on the wrong foot. Right off the bat you threw your best friend under the bus to me. You put him down, stepped on him, shoved his face on the mud and kept on getting it. Shame on you. I overlooked this momentarily until I had the chance to really talk to him. I adore him and you should never be an ass to him again. Consider that your warning for the future.

Then, without your knowing, I caught you in a whole slew of lies. First, you lied about your best friend even being with you on vacation. Mistake. You shouldn’t lie about petty shit. Second, you lied about that one weekend I was away. You said you were drinking beers with a friend. Which was true, but it was only half of the truth. May I remind you that only telling half of the truth is the same as lying. You should know that dear. You were in fact throwing a few back, but what you neglected to inform me of was that it wasn’t at a bar. It was at your ex girlfriend’s house. Now see this would not normally be an issue but when you are attempting to gain someone’s trust you never lead this on an unsound trail. Furthermore, your ex is a psychotic nut and you dog her been her back. Faking it to her face is just rude, inconsiderate, and unfair to all parties involved.

After these two lies where uncovered, I tuned into you. See the first two lies didn’t hurt me, far from it actually, but you did piss me off. You were taking advantage of a perfectly nice woman, as far as you knew.

The thing is that I’m only a perfectly nice girl on the surface. Underneath and when provoked, which you did, I am a bitch. See you were playing games with me, which I knew all along. I decided to play along because I didn’t realize the depth of these games. But what you failed to realized is that you ever play me and you never ever play games with me. I will win and you will end up equalling chew up gum on the bottom of my shoe in my book.

So I set back and like your game run its course. I knew it would only be a matter of time before you lied again. It only took about 3 weeks. You told a half truth again. You said you promised to come see me over a weekend. I let you believe that I was excited for the adventure, but in reality I knew you were bullshitting straight to my face. Takes one to know one hun. The weekend came and went. I let it pass calmly.

A few days after the weekend you messaged me. Ah, yes. The famous I’m going to make promises I won’t keep, not show or communicate anything for the period of time that I was suppose to be present, and then talk to you after the fact with light heartedness, I miss yous, and other meaningful bullshit to rope me in again. Bravo. Such a well thought out original plan. I really applaud you for your efforts in diversification. You make a grand appeal.

Either way, I played along. And as I predicted you made a faulty miss step. You made mention of the fact that you went to Bruce’s graduation party. Oh dear. See that was my key. It told me that you were in my area over the weekend and that you didn’t make the each effort to come see me because you were playing me. Shame on you again.

So here is what is going to happen. I’m going to turn on my heel and walk away but before I do I must make a few things clear. One, if you ever throw our mutual friends, especially LNAYX, under the bus again, I will publically humiliate you. Two, if you ever fuck with Peace again without her wanting you to, her problems with you will become my problems and I do not respond well to cheaters. Three, if you attempt to make advances toward me in the future I’m going to lead you on repeatedly and frustrate the fuck out of you. Four, I feel it would be hypocritical of me not to inform you of my intended use of you in the first place. I only entertained the idea of you as a summer fling. If you don’t believe me, ask Sunshine. I made the summer fling announcement in her kitchen. But I digress. See my sex friend at the time was MIA and I needed some loving. Your dick and meaningless sex with you suited my needs. Don’t be a pussy and cry about it.  Five, you need to get the fuck out of the game. Your skills are shitty as hell and I can’t believe you even thought you could play your games reasonably well enough to not get caught. You’re truly a dumbass if you still believe that. Finally, remember you can’t play a player bitch. 

Fuck off with peace and love,

Nelson

P.S. I think The Band Perry says it best:
“Because you lie like a priceless Persian rug on a rich man’s floor and you lie like a coon dog basking in the sunshine on my porch. Well you lie like a penny in a parking lot at the grocery store. It just comes way too natural to you. The way you lie.”

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Once Last Goodbye

At the college I went to, when you are a freshman, you are paired with senior mentor. The bond that you form with them is irreplaceable. So in honor of my “freshman” graduating this year, both is the senior narrative that I wrote. Hard to believe it was 4 years ago, but every last word of it is still true.

“I may not have enjoyed it all, but I’m grateful for the lessons that I learned, and the amazing friends I gained. To Papa: Thank you for reminding me that simple is all you need. To G-ma: Having a back bone is critical. To Granny: Thank you for teaching me what not to be. To Gail: Striving for perfection is never that far out of your reach. You just need to apply yourself. To Ma: Although it may hurt, brutal honesty is the best answer. To My Father: No matter what happens, I will always love you. To Beth: Thank you for not allowing me to settle for anything less. Word to your llama. To Jay: Thank you for being the Dad that I needed later in life. P.S. Don’t tell Beth about Hooters. To Sunshine: Laughter is key and there is a reason why God did not make us sisters. Remember, throw those hands up. To Wee: Never let anyone stand in the way of your dreams. To PR: My standards are high. P.S. To Holly: We will get what we want out of life. To Boot: Be strong and never leave your computer to bake in the sun. Haha. To Motherly: Your advice is the best. Do the dance! To Weebit: It still amazes me how two completely opposite people can get along so well. ATL. To Charlie: Thank you for the advice over the  years. It has gone further than you think. P.S. I taking Horus! To Brownie, Karbear, Jackie, Mr. Bear, HairSwoop, Baity, Zack, Mike, Fish, D-Ray, Jared, Chris, Blincoe, Timmy and Pope: Thank you for endless hours of laughter. Also, Chris, Thank you for baseball. To my closest friends: Remember what happened in Old Town/ NYC/ Tampa/ on “The Boat”, stays there. To my dykes: Abby, Anya and Hatley, you were the best, and even better you were 2007! To my co-dykes: I think we lived up to what our dykes wanted us to. To my Rat-Tie: Christopher, I could not have asked for a better Rat. Just think, we met when you were ready to leave, and I’m thankful you stayed. Make your dyke proud! Keep your head up and I’ll catch you on the flip side.”

NYC

Saturday in NYC. Perfect weather. PR, Italiano, AnnoyingPint and I are all dressed for perfection and ready to go on our booze cruise for the evening. We start off with delightful photos, then make our way to the pier. We get on the boat and set sail for the trip out to Lady Liberty and back. Open bar, beautiful Europeans, and food. Perfect.

Perfect until we are all dancing and I had a guy ask to dance with me. Ok. That’s fine. Problem was he was for TEXAS! What the hell?! I’m all the way in NYC and the one guy from Texas finds me on the boat. I had to refrain from insulting him. Furthermore, he wanted to bump and grind with me. Now I’m not European, but I dance like one. I like my space. I don’t care to give  you an erection on the dance floor.

I escaped eventually to be with my friends and then another creeper found me. He was from South Africa. Cute (as best I can remember). Problem was he had really lame pick up lines and he wanted to get me alone.
1. I came here to be with my friends and have a good time.
2. I’m not interested in getting in your pants.
3. You are really going to have to try harder than that to get me.

But back to the pick up lines. His top 3 lamest of the night are as follows:
1. “I love your dress but I don’t know about you.” –Yes insulting a chick is the best way to get her.
2. “I’m a bullfighter.” –This one has a story behind it. My response was “You live in NYC. I don’t think there is much of a market for a bullfighter.” He replied that he traveled to Spain to do so. Me– “Um. Yeah. Ok.” He follows that up with some off hand remark about how he wants to get me alone. My response–“The chase is half of the fun.” Him–“Oh I know. That’s what I do for a living.” Me–“Ah. No. You get charged at by a bull. You aren’t chasing anything.”
3. “Ah. It’s love at first sight.”–Literally almost vomited.

Either way, I got his number. After our delightful booze cruise ended, we all went out to 230 Fifth. The instant I walked in I felt like I was in Vegas. Our boozing continued. AnnoyingPint passed out in a chair at one of the high bar tables. Idiot. The night was a success.

All in all, NYC is always a shit show for me, and I love every second of it!

Welcome to New York

Yesterday evening I arrived in NYC to spend the weekend with my college roommate PR, her Italian roommate and best friend from childhood Italiano, and several other friends from around the world. Literally since the moment I set foot inside the city, it has been a nonstop adventure.

Before we (meaning Italiano’s friend from Washington DC AnnoyingPint and me) got to PR and Italiano’s place we got to experience the lovely traffic at the Holland Tunnel caused by “police activity”. Code for someone pulled out his/her piece in the tunnel and played target practice. Minor details in the grand scheme of things.

To start the evening off we ordered in and had Limoncello. Delicious. After a while we put on our New York City black, decked ourselves out and made our way into the night. 2 taxi rides and a subway ride later we found ourselves at an unmarked club in Chinatown. Immediately the door lady said, ” No no no. I can’t let you in. Too many people and you don’t have a reservation.” After standing outside for 15 minutes and at the European diligence of Italiano, we got in.

Sweet Jesus. Walking in was like going back to Europe. I instantly died inside. The smell. The people. The greetings (kiss on each cheek). God I missed it!  PR and I ordered drinks, of which the bartender have to us for free, and we danced the night away like Europeans.*

I few friends come in and out throughout the evening. We had 3 friends from Mexico and 2 from Germany. The one from Germany was very cute. 25/26 years old. Very aryan. He now lives in London. Does something with banking. Either way, he blessed me with for the evening with one of my favorite European traditions–the open stare.** I miss it so so much but when Americans do it, it’s creepy.
The Germans bought us a few drinks and a shot. All very mint flavored and mildly fruity. My stomach will not be thanking me later. We were dancing up a storm to a delightful club mix and then my night was made. They played “One” by Swedish House Mafia.

Around 0330 we made our way back to our place. Once inside our home we quickly changed into pajamas, put a pizza in the oven, and reminisced about Europe. I miss the culture more than anything. The food, the drinks, the love of the people, the openness.

That’s it I need to move outside of the US.

*If you’ve never had the pleasure of dancing Europe, you should give it ago. Unlike America where people feel the need to openly have sex on the dance floor, Europeans have a dance bubble. I have my dance bubble. You have yours. We don’t touch for the most part. It’s all about you and the music. The confidence you have with your body and the way it moves to the thriving beat. I love it.

**In Europe, it is openly acceptable for men to stare at you for however long he feels inclined to and check you out. This is done in broad daylight on a city street, in the evening in the club and anywhere else in between.

Bros Before Hoes And Chicks Before Dicks

Remember how you use to interact with all your married/in a serious relationship friends, and now you don’t? I do. I have many friends that are currently married or in a serious relationship and we just don’t click like we use to. Let’s give examples.

1. We can start with GoldDigger and My Father. Now I realize that they are “family” (gag), but I do feel like the redheaded step child, which I’m ok with because they leave me alone for the most part. But it seems like since they have entered married life everything revolves around her family. All holidays are spent with her family. All vacations, her idea/her family. All Saturday evening plans, her family. It seems that nothing that My Father does is for himself. Sure he enjoys what he does but he is contributing no original thought to the situation. My Father and I have never really been close, but he has changed since marriage. From the way he dresses, to his hobbies, to taking vacations (he never use to take those). His change, although for the most part for the better, has driven him even further from me. We have nothing in common, build no new memories, and his continuous apologizing for the past while rubbing the future in my face has to stop.

2. Next, we have Mr. Bear. Oh lord where do I begin? Well Mr. Bear has a serious track record of finding a new girlfriend and literally spending every waking minute with her, ditching his friends for the most part, and doing any and everything that she wants to do. Currently, Mr. Bear has a newer girlfriend. He has been seeing her for about 7 or 8 weeks.

Now, let me back up just a second and explain how Mr. Bear is dick to his friends when he has a significant other. A few weeks ago Mr. Bear and PR attended a wedding of a close friend of theirs. The night of the wedding Mr. Bear got all wasty faced, per usual. His girl called. He said he’d call her back later in the evening. She got mad. (Crazy cunts.) Later on in the evening Mr. Bear did indeed call his girl back. He had had several glasses of wine and called his girl by PR’s actual name on the phone repeatedly. Naturally his girl got pissed. I can’t say I blame her really. I would have done the same thing. Whatever.

Moving on to Monday. PR had changed her Facebook profile picture to a photo of her and Mr. Bear. A really great photo of them really. Well this apparently did not sit well with all parties involved. PR was working in the hospital all day Monday and could not answer her phone. Mr. Bear called PR six times saying that it was important and she needed to call him back. So after she left work, mind you the last thing she did was watch one of her patients die, she called him. He proceeds to tell her, “She was a fucking idiot and what was she thinking changing the profile picture. Blah, blah, blah.” He continues to rant and rave saying, “How could she be so stupid to put her profile picture of her and him, and his girl is pissed, and what kind of person is PR.” PR counters with the logical response of “Are you serious? We’ve been best friends and I love you like brother, and she needs to understand that I’m not going to be some selective friend and only be there when it’s ok.” His response, “I love her. Whatever she says goes and if she doesn’t like you, then I can’t like you type of deal.” PR lost her nugget. “If he can’t have the balls to tell her to calm the fuck down, we are just friends type of deal, then he’s fucked up and she wants no part of his future.” Mr. Bear, “Have a good one.”

Do you see my point? Mr. Bear has been dating this girl for weeks, literally, and he has shit all over PR who has been his friend for years. I mean seriously, what the fuck dude?

_________

Now, I will have to say that despite all the evidence listed above, I do have a few friends that are married or in a serious relationship and nothing has changed. I love and appreciate these friends more than they know for being themselves and balancing their relationships. If anything they have learned how to balance their relationships due to some of their own fuck ups in the past. So thank you Boot and her man, Mr. Breadstick and Ms. Ineedacheeseburger, and Romeo and Juliet, for being in relationships and not changing.

_________

The bottom line of this post is just this, if you choose to be in a relationship, that’s all well and fine, but do not loose your friends and family over your significant other. No one is worth that and when that shit blows up in your face you’ll realize just how alone you really are.

Hi. I’m A Samantha/Miranda

One of my dearest friends, PR, categorized each of the roommates as one of the characters from Sex in the City.

PR: “Well let’s see. Boot you are most definitely a Charlotte. Motherly, you are too. I’m definitely Carrie. Nelson, you are a bit of Samantha and a bit of Miranda.”

Initially offend, I started to think about how I got the mixture of the poorly dressed, career chasing slut. Was I really so career driven that I didn’t see what was right in front of me? Maybe. Yes. Well ok fine. I don’t like acknowledging that sometimes what I need is right in front of me. I am far too damn independent to admit that to myself or anyone else. And when I do, the shit just hits the fan. I’m comfortable just being with myself and my career. Alone. But I don’t really like to be alone. So now I’m just overly complicated. Yep. That pretty much sounds like Miranda.

Did I really dress that bad? Well no, but I did dress for comfort so I can see that. Girls show up decked to the 9’s. Well I could do that to but I’d rather go in a pair of hot shorts, comfortable heels, and a stylish shirt. Hair up and not holding my purse. Could I do a mini dress and heels? Absolutely and look gorgeous doing so, but I like to be able to  move in my dress and feel my feet the next day. Jeans and a sweet tee is where it’s at. Another point for Miranda.

Was I really a slut like Samantha? Er, well, kind of. I mean I felt completely justified in all my actions, but so did Samantha. Damn. I don’t spread Christmas cheer like Samantha though. That’s good on me. But I do know exactly what I want and I generally get it. I exert confidence in everything that I do. Charming people is just a part of my job and boy have I devoured some men in my life, not that they minded. Yep. There’s team Samantha.

So I guess PR called it right. I am a Samantha/Miranda. An overly cocky, occasionally well dressed, confident smartass, who enjoys the chase and the challenge. And now this sounds like a personal advertisement.