Why I have to go out with my ex-boyfriend

Love is grand isn't it? No! It's not. I'm so, so sick of all! Let me tell you why: Men never act rightly when they are supposed to. Treat her right when she's your girlfriend - not after you've already broken up!

Madeline Kahn was also sick and tired of love.

Soooo, my darling not-really-my-boyfriend-but-we-still-go-out-on-dates-we-just-don't-make-out guy, aka, the owner and sole proprietor of Kinesiology Solutions, had a brilliant idea one day. He claims he's not the jealous type (although I find this highly suspect), so to illustrate his point, he, whilst I wasn't looking, chose to aggrivate an already sensitive subject by taking it upon himself to send a text message to my ex-boyfriend. Now, he didn't just out of the blue send this text message. I confided in him that my ex-boyfriend was not leaving me alone, finding every excuse to call or send a text message. Just at that very moment, ex-boyfriend sent a text message. I was annoyed and left the room. It was at this point, my darling now-not-really-boyfriend guy picked up my phone, and sent a text message in reply to my ex-boyfriend's message. It read, "Ahh thanks, babe! You're so sweet! And don't forget about our dinner!"

A few minutes later, I heard my phone beep, alerting me to a new message. I had no idea what had happened. I say, "Darling Guy, will you see who that is?" Darling says I've gotten a text message. He shows me. I read it: "Oh, I won't forget! I'll call you soon so we can go to lunch." I'm confused. "What?" I say. "But that doesn't make any sense. I didn't send him a message."
"Yes, you did," Darling says. "Here, let me show you."
He scrolls through my sent messages and pulls one up - the one HE sent ex-boyfriend.
"But, I didn't...wait a minute...YOU SENT HIM A TEXT MESSAGE!!!!!" I screamed.

Now I admit, I've played my share of great tricks on Darling Guy, some pretty damn good ones, too. So, I probably deserved this. This was, in fact, his first retalliation, and they say that revenge is a dish best served cold, so Kudos, Darling Guy. Excellent trick. But in the meantime, I have to deal with an ex-loser-boyfriend who thinks I want him back.

This is where I start to lose it. And I mean LOSE IT!!!!!!

A photo of my ex-boyfriend and me, taken just before the break-up.

You see, dear readers, I invested 2 long years in ex-loser-boyfriend. I encouraged him, was devoted to him, was understanding, and I tried to help him achieve important goals. For instance, I encouraged him to go back to school. I even tutored him through his remedial math class - both times he took it. With my help he passed it the SECOND time. I tried to help him see the importance of God and church, and I tried to get him to see why, at 32 years of age, he needed to stop living off of his parents money. I tried. I worked. I begged. I cried. For 2 years. And for 2 years, he never made one single concession for me. He never adjusted his schedule, never went out of his way, never made any sort of sacrifice. He never took off from his $7.50 an hour receptionist job at 24-hour fitness to come support me in any of my endeavors. When I was going to run a half-marathon for Leukemia, he said that he couldn't come because it was too early in the morning. When my Grandmother was dying, he didn't want to have to drive his precious Mustang to the airport 5 miles away to take me to get a rental car because my car was in the shop and offered to get me a cab. (He changed his mind when I threw the phone book at him.) I tell you all this to tell you that ex-loser-boyfriend is entitled to nothing from me.

You see, I thought that once I made it sound like I didn't really want to go out to eat with him, he would just let it go. But, he hasn't. I'm too busy to go on a date, and definately too busy go out with someone I don't even like! Lately, he hasn't been asking whether or not I would LIKE to go eat with him, he's been demanding to know WHEN I will go with him. There's no asking. Like he can tell me what to do. And what's more, he's even generously offered to SWITCH SHIFTS WITH SOMEONE so he can more accomodate my schedule!!!! Now he wants to act right. Now.

This is how I feel.

This is where I get angry. Where does he get off? He had 2 years to act right! 2 long, long years of my life to treat me the way I deserved to be treated. He failed. Miserably. And now, after I've moved onward and upward, he thinks he can have me back. Just like that. He can tell me what to do and demand things from me. I'm so, so fed up!

But, a true mad spinster uses these little idiotic men to her advantage. I'm going to go out with ex-loser-boyfriend - to the restaurant of my choice - an expensive restaurant of my choice. And order the most expensive thing on the menu. Then, just so he won't be inconvenienced, I'm going to take a cab home. The end. He deserves to suffer a little, and I plan on being the one to deliver the suffering.

You can call me cruel if you want. I prefer to be called, "Deliverer of Justice."

Madeline Kahn - my hero. And a true deliverer of justice. You can see her here, delivering.

i had a great blog

but I accidently deleated it. I'm too deflated to do it again. Maybe I'll have the energy tomorrow.

Waiting

For those of you used to my light, funny entries, you may want to skip this one...it's going to be a little heavy. I'm in a bit of a Thomas Hardy mood: hopelessly and endlessly tragic. You see, dear readers, life isn't always easy. Sometimes we make huge mistakes. Sometimes we ignore our own wisdom and do not what is wise, but what is immediately gratifying. Why can I not get my life together? I refuse myself nothing. I take what I want when I want. The result? Broken relationships. Debt. Stress. Ugliness. And worst of all, a huge discrepancy between what I COULD do and what I AM doing.

I know that I'm not the only one, but I always fancied myself above this kind of stumbling. Part of growing up is learning that you're just as suceptible to failure and humility as the next Joe Blo. It's a painful and humbling process. I guess that's why they call it growing pains. To achieve something great in this world, we must accept things that are not natural for us to accept: sacrifice and patience.

Often I wonder what Jesus thought on his path to die. Not that we can ever match Jesus' perfection, but maybe he was giving us an example of what we all have to do to achieve our potential. What a failure he would have been if he had said no to God! Where would we be? What would we be? (Don't say Jewish.)

And the waiting must have been the hardest part, knowing that pain and suffering were what awaited him. But, they were temporary. It's hard for me to see the light through the pain, even when greatness is promised. Can it be time now? Can I summon the strength to endure the pain of sacrifice so that I may become something greater than what I am? I hope so. I guess now would be a good time to summon that power stronger than my own will, the same power that kept Jesus putting one foot in front of the other.

Paint Week

This is me, recovering from Paint Week.




So, nobody's heard from me in a while. That's because I'm still recovering from paint week. 2 weeks ago. What they want you to believe is that children learning and being creative is a very quiet, serene process, like this picture here:




But, it's a lie! All of it. When you bring out the paint, children, who are already prone to be maniacs, turn into super-sized maniacs, commiting crimes you never thought possible for children. Suddenly, I felt as if I was in a scene from this movie:

I never thought I'd have to say, "Xandria, do NOT paint Jose!" to sixth graders. And surely children know how to wash their hands, right? Wrong. Surely they know not to deliberately dump tempera paint on the floor, right? Wrong again.
This was also the week the entire school had to run out of paper towels. I'm not joking.

This, my friends, is the stuff of greek tragedies.
Somehow, someway, I managed NOT to gouge my eyes out or drive my cousin to suicide or kill my mother or kill myself, or accidently drink some poison. But, it was a close call.

Now, it's don't talk at all week, a.k.a. express yourself silently week. See, I'm learning.

Sick, Sick, Sick

For the second time this month, I've been sick, sick as a dog. This time it was the stomach flu. God bless me. On my birthday, too. Yuck. Anyway, I'm better now, however, I still don't feel like eating a bunch of queso.