*blue balls not included.
When big shit happens, I can maintain a fairly level head of the situation at hand and act accordingly. So, why does the “small stuff” still wreck havoc on my insides and provide endless amounts of stress? And why is flying STILL one of the most traumatic experiences for me ever?
Never start a conversation with your significant other with the words, “We have a problem.” As I also tweeted, boyfriend will immediately assume pregnancy has befallen him. I am not fucking pregnant, by the way…
I have never taken my boyfriend for granted, and when semi-big shit hit the fan, I knew because of him in my life, I truly had no worries. It’s an even bigger, heart-melting, “WOW” than I have ever imagined. He’s got my back. And he dishes some great advice. No, you cannot borrow him. But I do like to share.
Yeah, yeah… *puke*
There are still some awesome girls left in Cleveland. Outside of my inner circle of girlfriends, I resigned that most chicks were catty gossip-mongers. In my experience throughout my schooling and career path, most women were *not* extremely helpful and/or mentoring. “She” would react to my looking to change careers or “do better” in the community that I was somehow out to get her. I am not a back-stabber — never have been — and I find it extremely unfortunate that more professional women do not look out for one another. Perhaps I looked for advice and guidance in the wrong circles all along. That being said, after a fantastic gnoCLE this week, I remembered that there *are* awesome women in this city, ever looking out for one another even if purely to motivate. And the bonding! That is more precious than the chocolate-peanut-butter-cup martinis. Thanks again for the invite, KK.
Oh yeah, and I need to find a job because I am all-kinds-of-bored. Sitting at home watching a cat is fun for a day — maybe two. But seriously… I hate court room dramas, and I’m caught up on basically everything on Hulu. BTW, can you watch full episodes of Bad Girls Club online somewhere?
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This blog is about pursuit: a transplanted Clevelander (me) in a new city (that's you, Pittsburgh!), pursuing the role of a self-employed copywriter, becoming a roller derby badass and somehow merging all my to-do items into one ever-growing Bucket List.
And of MY boyfriend. His blue balls started this mess.
