THEN AND NOW

So, here it is: the moment of truth! my first official blog review

Ok, I'll probably upset my friends, but come on guys...what do you know about writing blogs? Yes, this is me being mean.

     Trust me, you wouldn't want to know what was my opinion about blogging before. Ok, I'll tell you cause I'm bad at keeping secrets anyway. I mean, I'm writing about my life, for..something's sake. Well, I thought it was just a way for people who had too much time on their hands to just babble about anything on the internet. 

   Something like: 

       'Dear diary, I'm so desperate cause today Tommy didn't look at me while I was waving from the other side of the campus. I'm starting to think he doesn't love me. What am I gonna do?' ...but on the internet. So that thousands of people would come across that in some unfortunate moment in their lives.

Going back to the review...two very nice girls ( I said 'girls' by their name, but with the internet today, you never know...I'm just kidding...really, I'm kidding!) took the time to review my blog...or, as Joy said, I was brave enough to let them do it (or maybe I had too much to drink that evening when I submitted the blog...kidding again..I know, it's a bad habit, I'm under treatment and I admit not taking my medicine regularly).

  

    The result, of the review, that is, was...unexpected to say the least. In a good way. Cause I usually don't take criticism very well, no matter good or bad. For me there's no such thing as constructive feedback. No, in my world it's called BAD feedback :)
    For a girl like me, passionate about writing (and sex..well, we all have our issues) to have a good  blog review available to anyone on the internet (and we all hope Bob never discovers it...or at least for now) it's something really really great. Did I mention English was not my first language? 
    Yes, I did.

The story of this blog is simple: it was either this or never ending talks during my post surgery sick leave, with my mother about how I was going to find another man. Oh God! Cause yes, I started writing my pain after I got dumped by Kidzilla's father in January 2013 for a younger chick (26, I'm 32...already out of date). And the pain was...excruciating.
     Every day, each time my mother or father felt like talking to 'cheer' me up, I would politely excuse myself to go writing on the blog. And it was damn good I did it, cause my mother thought that telling me I was young and I had enough time to find someone else would help me get over heartbreak. I'd be just fine by myself, thank you very much! Parents!  As Al Bundy said: Can't live with them, can't shoot them :D He was talking about women, of course. God, I used to love that show!
     This way I started to cure myself: writing. Every word that I was writing felt like a bandage for my heart. Every sentence felt like a miracle medicine. 
   Until another 23 year old medicine came along. We now call him the KID. 

This is my story...so far. I hope you'll enjoy the ride as much as I do and trust me: you ain't seen nothing yet! 

PS: Thank you again +Joy Hancock and +Luna Lablue for your kind help. I will improve and come back for 5

Guess who's at the door

     Previously in my life...I have experienced something that I only thought possible in movies, but not in my ordinary life.

     As most of you know, me and the KID don't live together yet. Well, we sort of do, but it seems more like the life of a cheating wife who brings her lover in her husband's bed and then kicks him out early in the morning before the husband gets home from his night shift. 

    Well, let's say my life has a bit more romance in it cause I'm not married and the man I'm hiding my lover from is "only" the father of my child (aka Bob) who left me for a 20 something blonde, as smart as a ...well, I'm thinking really hard to find something, cause I don't want to offend the thing I'm gonna compare her to.  You probably understood by now that I really like to mock her intelligence, or better yet, the lack of it actually.

     And going back to the event that brought excitement in my life (as if I needed that even more) and made my heart beat like crazy...

 the night before the happening, me and the KID got into one of our usual fights (can't remember if we had make up sex or not, cause sometimes we fight, we have make up sex and then we fight again...it's a vicious circle, I know), I fell asleep during the fight, I think, and he went to sleep downstairs in the living room.

    Usually, I have my alarm set almost an hour before Bob gets home to take the baby to the kindergarten, as he's been doing for about 2 months now. 

    So, every day, minutes before Bob gets home, the KID is leaving me, because Bob doesn't agree to the KID sleeping at home when our baby is there. It doesn't really make any sense if you look at it, but I put up with it cause I want to maintain a civilized relationship with the one I've lived with for 8 years. At least for now...

    The next morning, those damn two alarms that I got decided to stop working so..

 As if my mornings weren't bad enough cause I'm like this when it comes to getting up :

 

 

 

 I wake up (with headaches, as usual), but also with the KID coming in a rush in the room to tell me that Bob is at the door. I look at my phone, I have a text message and lots of missed calls from the same Bob (yes, a plane could land at my window and I wouldn't hear a thing) and my phone keeps ringing. I answer and I hear Bob snarling: "You left the keys in the lock and I can't open the door".  I say: "Ok, coming..."

    My heart starts beating even faster.

   Meanwhile, the KID is looking for his clothes ...usually he's quite neat, but I don't know what happened the evening before. He finally finds them...everything except for his socks.

   5 to 8 minutes later, I'm getting him out by the back door, in our yard, and I rush to the front one to let Bob in. My heart is still beating like crazy and, if Bob knew me a little better, he'd see I'm blushing and my voice is a bit changed due to my fast heartbeat; he'd know I nearly got caught doing nasty things and follies like a teenager.

    For some reason, Bob rushes upstairs and after a quick inspection that he usually doesn't do (hey, maybe he did "smell" something with his 43 year old nose), he enters the baby's room to wake him up. By the time I give the YOU'RE GOOD TO GO signal to the KID, he's already 5 minutes away from the house and my heart rate is still the one of a sprinter.

So, let's hope that until I move out, my alarm clock will spare me from mornings like that... 

FREEDOM and Fears

     What is freedom? do we apprehend it the right way? And no, I am not talking about the NO, YOUR HONOR, I DON'T WANT TO GO TO JAIL kind of freedom.

     In one of my previous posts, I used the expression freedom of my soul. At that stage I was under the impression that I was actually living it. Today, a lot has happened and I realize that, at that point in my life I wasn't even close to the apprehension of freedom I have now.

      It's not as tragic as it sounds, don't worry;)
Let's see...Previously in my life...

    I had a "date" with Bob to reminisce about good times and make plans to get back together. .. and there is also a blue pig flying over my house each night.

ARE YOU CRAZY??? I may be twisted, but NOT that much...You, people would believe anything :)

     The "date" was initially to settle some things with the house and the baby before I left. Left where, you'll all wonder (I hope..)? 10 months later, I finally decided to leave the house Bob and I bought together 3 years ago and buy my own for me and my baby. 
   And you, KID ;)  Yes! 
And I started writing a book; could be chick lit, could be tragedy, I don't have a clue, but I wrote my first...3 pages I think. Hey, it's a start! 
    Translation: I'm leaving the house I thought to be mine forever to Bob and the BITCH he cheated me with last year to buy another one (more beautiful I hope) where I can live (read have sex) with the KID how I damn well please. 
    Translation of the translation: that's a sarcastic bitchy cold hearted and not nearly as mean as I intended translation:)

But hear this: seems that Mrs. Bitch doesn't feel comfortable moving in the house I once owned.

well...dooooohhh!


     Lots have been said during those almost 3 hours (initially we told our significant others that we would be gone for one hour - there was no previous agreement between us whatsoever). Despite everything that's happened between us (and I'm almost positive that the bad things are far from being over) we were able to sit and talk and connect once more in our lives. 
      We talked about each other's plans for the future, marriage, jealousy, fears, baby.
      While telling him everything about my plans out loud,  about how I feel like I'm only starting my life now with my baby, at 32 (I mean ..in my late 20's), I felt the pain that you only feel when you're about to burst into tears and you try to hold it in, but you can't. 
      And I am feeling it...I do feel that I am finally starting to grow and be strong and be on my own. 

Also because I was able to tell Bob serenely that I am perfectly fine with the BITCH living in my house. 

  ...In the end, what I'm leaving behind are just material things, nothing that really matters. 

And then there was Bob's turn to get all emotional when he talked about the separation and being without the baby.
and then about...
    Fears
    Bob's : getting old and committing.
I wonder what kind of freedom is Bob living. Yes, he's leading a single man's life, seeing his child once every 2 days, going out with a 20 something (you know...blonde illiterate peasant..OH! If you only heard her speak), trying to fight his fears and doing everything as selfishly as possible. Not once during our 3 hour conversation has he mentioned his love for her. Everything he said was only about him and only him.
    
   Bitch's : moving in my house and being left by Bob for...here comes: ME! 
She fears I might want to take Bob away from her. Right..when pigs fly, my dear! 
  
   THE KID may not be perfect, but so far, he hasn't left my side when I was at my worst. And I did "my best" to chase him away...

Come to think of it, maybe it's normal to feel this when you cheated on your husband and left your child to chase a man with more money and not single.
Don't get me wrong: I am not judging anyone and I do not blame her. 
I hardly believe that when your partner cheats on you, it's because they have a gun pointed to their head.
We must all assume and live with our own choices and decisions.

   Mine: my son's health/not being able to take care of him

We laughed a lot too about things only we knew... 

    Another subject was our significant others; mine was smarter (as always) and was discrete throughout the evening (no calls, no text messages, just one before I got to the restaurant to encourage me cause I was really stressed out). 
   His was annoying as always cause she is such an insecure Bi#@h (she started texting and texting again and again...until me and Bob had to call it a night) . Sorry for the bad language, I'm usually not like this , but it's Bob himself who admitted that to me. It was even funnier when he was reading me her text messages. 

     And talking about significant others...

The KID...MY KID...he'll soon live the freedom of love he's been longing for... He'll live his love freely. Soon, my love...

PS: I assure you I haven't become a romantic, mushy stuff writer/blogger
PS2: Justin's TKO  - well, I think I know it by heart now cause I've been listening to it for the last 4 hours I think
   

     

20 something

     Hi, my name is Lexy Gray (Hi Lexy! you'll all say), I'm 32 years old (sorry, I'm in my late 20's), I was cheated on by my 43 year old French ex (that we now call Bob) with a 26 year old blonde illiterate peasant, I have a 4 year old son with the 43 year old and a 6 month old relationship with a 23 year old guy that we call the KID (he knows and he's fine with it). 

     Too many numbers in my life...way too many for this late hour when I'm writing this (some know why:)
   Now... even though I find this fun and crazy from the outside, a relationship with a younger man makes any woman go crazy...for..many reasons. Where should I start?

1st: some of us are not quite prepared to resist physically cause they're ready anytime for the long run and they don't seem to stop ...ever. Girls, you do know what I'm talking about, right? 

yes, this is exactly what I'm talking about ;)

A girl (especially one my age) needs her sleep, God damn it! Even though

I'm not asking for beauty sleep, but at least enough to be able to..perform:) Of course, I'd have nothing against if I was left to sleep during...you know.

2nd: society looks at us as if we were child molesters.
    I, for one am constantly thinking that I should let him live his life, instead of depriving him of everything youth has got to offer (other girls, clubbing, loads of unprotected sex with complete strangers, etc).  
    Actually, I feel that I'm actually depriving myself of all these things...
     Men are never judged the same way, don't you agree, girls? It's ok for Hef to be 90 and have a 20 something chick, right?
   Oh, and we're even worse if we have kids from previous relationships. Cause apparently, lots of people still think there's nothing worse than a single mom who's bringing a kid into her relationship with a ...KID ;)...at least in my country

unless of course, you're Demi Moore, in which case, it's fine

3rd: a 20 year old guy 'risks' to become your child's playmate - and this is not necessarily good - cause if the relationship ends, there won't be just one heartbroken, but two. So, what to do ..what to do...Is it better not to involve your 20 something in your family activities for ...let's say...about 10 years? or better yet..would it be better for your child not to see him/her at all for the same period of time? 
    Come to think of it,maybe I should have kept the relationship nocturnal..

4th: a 20 something requires the same amount of attention (or maybe more) as your own child and will punish you when not getting it.

   Yap, I'm living it...It's the end of the world if he doesn't receive a reply to his
20th text message and will question my commitment to the relationship if I don't share candy between my son and him. Seriously, he once started a huge fight cause I didn't want to give him my son's chocolate. How fu*&ed up is that? Sorry about the bad language. I'm not usually like this.
   Ok, I got the make up sex after, but he never got the chocolate...muahahaha

5th: the 20 something is unpredictable and will change his/her mind many times - I'm actually the queen of indecision, but I see I could be even worse.

6th: you may have different tastes in...everything
     let's develop, shall we? what you may think it's hip and cool, no matter if we talk about music, food, movies, literature, etc, he/she may have not even been born at the time you were enjoying the 'good stuff'
    so, try to keep up with the youth (and whatever cool rapper who appears half naked on stage and you don't understand anything he says cause of the screaming)  if you don't want to look like a granny/grandaddy to your 20 something significant other

7th: under no circumstances will you accept being called MOMMY or DADDY or whatever derivative coming from these two
I don't have to explain too much, do I? Once you enter that territory, it's going to be difficult to act and feel all sexy and provocative if you have your child's image in your head

       Now,  my 20 something seems to be another type, a kind of mutant, the more dangerous kind. 
      He's the type who spends time with me in the kitchen and not just to get some on the kitchen table (wonder if he ever thought about it, but since his mind is constantly on sex, I doubt he hasn't).
       
      He likes cooking with me and for me and he involves my son in this. Either he's really smart and hopes to get the mother by impressing the little one with his chocolate cake, or he's really like that and... I'm still not convinced.

      He prefers to stay in instead of clubbing while I prefer the exact opposite: I'd go out every week, twice a week if that were possible. 

     He wants to get married - let's not forget he's only 23. Yes, he's still living in Fairyfu*&ingville. Worst thing about this: he wants to marry ME! ME! I'm sorry KID, have we met? I have a child and was never married, not even to the father of my child...Yes, for a second I said yes few weeks ago...and the thought still lingers in my mind...
   But hear this: 'Marrying a younger man increases a woman's mortality rate

Women who are seven to nine years older than their husbands have a 20% higher mortality rate than if they were the same age' (read more here).

  So, my dear KID, since the difference between us is 9 years and given the above, you will understand my reluctance.

      Well, all in all, a 20 something partner may be difficult to handle, tiresome and sometimes very annoying, requires lots of attention and can be very stressful, but mine has dragged me in a hell of a ride...
        

Make LOVE, not WAR

Why do we argue so much?

No, this is not a rhetorical question; do feel free to answer it.
Today we're going to talk about arguments, disputes, fights between two romantically involved individuals.

         

         I was always the kind that ran away from conflicts; I guess it was the fear of not winning, not having enough arguments, being taken by surprise by the person I'd fight with, maybe it was just the fact that my parents always told me to avoid them, etc. 

My problem is that, once the conflict is over, I always find the best, most intelligent lines to say...but it's of course too late. Seems that my brain is unable to work properly and help me argue and say something smart and intelligent at the same time.

         Now it seems like I need to "compensate" for the lost time and I spend most of my time at war with the KID. It all ends with sex of course, but still, I ask myself: do we fight with our partners because we have such strong personalities and each one feels the need to stand for what he/she believes in? Do we fight cause the communication channel is somewhat blocked? Do we fight for the love of fighting, cause we know that, at the end of it, our partner will savagely throw us on the bed and rip our clothes? Why all the hostility?

    Honestly, if I had the answer to all these questions, I'd probably be having the perfect relationship and I'd be giving advice on how to live happily ever after. But, as Chris Rock said, "the best relationships are the bad ones."

   The man is right, but how? What exactly is this good bad relationship? Is it what I'm currently living with the KID? Should partners be constantly picking on the other for just about anything only to rediscover each other later? When is the fighting too much? Are we able to manage these little conjugal wars and avoid separation?

No, this is not a post about domestic violence.

   

      When I was a teenager (must have been 16 years old), I was in love with a boy and somehow the boy started to love me back. And we were so in love...and about 7 years later, we started to fight because I had started to fall out of love; it wasn't sudden, I assure you, it had been a pretty long process and he "helped" a lot. But somehow, I still believed that everything could be alright, that he would do those things for me that he hadn't done in 7 years, that he would change and our relationship would be back on the  right track. 
       
    But he didn't, so everything about him became unbearable; the only thing that defined us in our last months was fighting. I was cold to him; no matter what he did or say, or tried to do was just another reason for me to become the most obnoxious person in the world. And so, without even realizing it, several fights later, we fell apart.  

     Our beginning had been so beautiful. Our first months, years were wonderful and I believed him to be the love of my life.

  
 ...then there was the French..our little Bob - again, same story: great beginning (7 and a half years this time), horrible end. Everthing fell apart when I started being jealous and aggressive for, apparently, no reason. The moment we started having difficulties, he chose to run away. But now I am starting to believe that my psyche was trying to warn me that something had broken in what I believed to be a perfect machine. 

   

And there came the KID...to pick up the broken pieces of what used to be ME, once that Bob left for the blonde illiterate peasant...

     What I realized is that, as long as I thought that there was no love involved, things went great. Once he declared his love and I knew I felt it too, well...the world collapsed.  I can't say we are in a perfect place right now from any point of view: he wakes up at 6h45 every morning to leave the house before Bob gets home to take the baby to kindergarden, he thinks I don't give him enough attention, I feel like he's in a constant competition with my son, we are stressed out because of the house too (long story to tell...maybe another time)...

         Sometimes, I think we're so unfit, because we had a great start that lasted about...3 months and then, for some reason, something changed. And that something makes us so explosive. 
  And there's one more thing that changed: he's not running away...at least for now.

         What have I learned from these little wars that I fought during all these years? Not much:)
Well...
1st: try to really listen to what your partner is complaining about
  
2nd: understand the real problem behind the little pretext that started the whole thing - cause, if by accident you broke a plate or something and your partner thinks it's the end of the world, well...

3rd: eyes on the ball, as they say...never lose focus on the issue, cause once you start on other things, it's sure to go from bad to worse 

4th: don't (as much as you can) brake anything or throw stuff at each other...or even better: don't hit your partner (unless of course, you've got some sex games going on after...

5th: don't make fun of what your partner calls "problems" no matter how stupid you think it is - yeap, been there, done that...not a pretty picture

6th: don't start raising your voice unless you are isolated and there's just the two of you in a soundproofed room..in that case, you can scream and shout all you want cause you won't bother anyone, but each other and in the end you'll wonder why you have headaches

7th: don't make jokes even if you think it's the right time - been there, done that...not a pretty picture. Keep your comedian acts to yourself

8th: work together to end the fight as soon as possible - the longer the fight, the longer the reconciliation, the longer the way to ..sex - again, been there, done that and those were the longest 2 days of my life

9th: if the fight is not over before you go to bed, don't sleep in separate rooms - for those who only have one bedroom, that's great! He/She can't run:)

10th: best way to end the fight is sex of course...the famous MAKE UP SEX.     But if one of you wants sex and the other doesn't, don't turn this into another reason to start another fight, cause it's never gonna end.