Finally Realized Why Rom Coms Sell

13 02 2014

I read this today.

Read it.

It made me go ‘well, goddamn.’

I am currently roughly eight months into my relationship with Magpie. He’s sweet, I’m sweet, we laugh about ridiculous things, and I am very physically comfortable with him. (For anyone who is unaware, for someone who isn’t big on physical contact, this is a Big Deal.)

But I sometimes keep going ‘It’s not insanely passionate and earth shattering and wrecking me! It’s not TRUUUU LUV OMG’.

And it’s really really stupid. But as the column I referenced says, it’s not the story that we’re sold.

The story is always Man and Woman Meet. They argue about stuff. They realize they need each other and want to stay together forever. They kiss. The end.

But that’s not how real life works. Relationships that last, just going by observation and a little research, are born from respect, mutual affection, common interests and compatibility. Not stirring music and sexual compatibility and friction. That kind of thing fizzles out and then there’s nothing left.

But that’s what we’re shown. What we think we’re supposed to expect and want, and then we think that our good relationships aren’t good enough because we aren’t riding off on a white horse or standing on the front of a cruise ship.

It’s a fairy tale for adults. I guess we’re not supposed to outgrow it so movie makers can make money.

Well, I might watch them for fun, but I think the kind of romance I’m living in, right now, makes for a better story.

We’re both pretty broke and our fanciest date as of this post was a Japanese restaurant during Restaurant Week. His stubble is scratchy and sometimes when we sleep together it’s too hot and I have to roll away.

But sometimes we laugh without reservation, and can cuddle for hours. He respects me, he supports me, and I do my best to do the same. We daydream about sharing an apartment. And sometimes, for no reason at all, we just smile at each other.

I think that’s a lot of love, don’t you?


Attitude is everything.

13 01 2014

I am having a down day, which led to me missing the walk in advising hours that I need to attend for class, which leads me to tell myself that I’m useless and I should give up.

But I sent an e-mail to an instructor on the advising schedule, and we see what we do, no? I’ll keep going. And try to write in the meantime. I’ve got work tomorrow.

I don’t like work anymore.

And you know why? The director of the place where I work is terrible. I think a good boss is someone who can manage, delegate, take responsibility, and tell people the truth without dragging them down. Someone who can inspire people to follow them, rather than someone who is followed because their subordinates have no choice.

She called me into her office, and blindsided me with everything I was doing wrong. (I was out for a while with the stomach flu, and apparently I had a chronic lateness problem, which no one mentioned up until that moment. I admit that being late isn’t good, but it wasn’t as if I was strolling in half an hour late every day, and again, no one said anything.)

And my real problem was that the entire meeting was essentially ‘This is why you suck, and I should fire you, but I’m doing you a favor and not doing it’ and she was condescending the entire time. I was in tears. And apparently I’m not the only one she’s done this to! People are uncomfortable. And my co-workers say they enjoy my presence and that I work well with them and that I can do the job. No one has complained about how I work or how I speak to them, yet she said that my former immediate superior said I came off as defensive. Yet no one told me that either so that I could modify my behavior before it got to that level!

Sorry. I’m mad. So now I don’t feel confident at work anymore, if I see the director I get tense and I think poorly of her, I notice other people’s complaints more…it’s not a good environment. I’ll last until I’ve been there a year, and then I’m done. It’s not as if it’s my dream job anyway.

I know everyone can’t have their dream job. But I think I could make it as a writer, or maybe an editor, if I study, if I practice! Besides, I think I’ve figured out that a nine to five doing something that I don’t like or is boring isn’t sustainable for me anyway. I’m such a delicate flower, after all. Tee hee.

Like I said, attitude is everything. And even though today is a down day, I think everything is going to be all right.

On a high note, Magpie got a new job. Yay! He is super excited, as he gets. (Maybe not quite as excited as he is about the game he’s writing, but he’s pretty into his own head anyway.) Maybe a little place together isn’t so far off.

It’s a little scary to be making future plans, but I’m going to go with it. Attitude is everything.

…even when your boss sucks.

Sincerely yours,



How Long is the Honeymoon Period, anyway?

31 12 2013

I’m at work, so I guess technically I’m not supposed to be blogging, but a. Nothing is going on except for the occasional phone call and client coming in, b. no one is watching me, and c. it’s New Year’s Eve and I’m bored.

So whatever.

I think I have a cold, which means it’s probably advisable not to get super drunk tonight? Right? Anyone?

Nah. Totally drinking anyway. Also possibly getting cake. ‘Cause it wasn’t just my birthday or anything and I didn’t eat…about half the cake? No, it wasn’t half the cake. I mean, Magpie (my boyfriend, so nicknamed because of his propensity to spot and pick up shiny things on the ground) had some, Mom had some, and two others had some, so…maybe I ate a third of the cake over…four days? (Guess what my New Year’s Resolution is? Back on Weight Watchers!)

Cake cake cake cake cake. Seriously, if anyone’s ever in New York City- (Is this the first time I’ve actually mentioned where I am? No one come look for me! Tee hee. Actually, if I ever met anyone who read this blog I’d probably be all OMG let’s be friends and want to swap e-mails.)

Anyway, if anyone’s in New York City, go to Sal’s and…is it Dino?’s Crap, I don’t remember and I can’t check Yelp on my-oh, never mind, I can. (I’ve been surfing the net for the last fifteen minutes or so. I am easily distracted. Especially by Cake Wrecks.) Anyway, it’s Sal’s and Dom’s. Best red velvet cake I’ve had. So. Good. OMG. It’s in the Bronx and around the holidays it’s a madhouse but OMG CAKE. EAT IT.

Ahem. I love cake. That is all.

I really do have to work out more, my stamina is crap. It probably doesn’t help that I stopped working out after I got the stomach flu, which wiped me out even after I stopped throwing up. Nausea plus dizziness plus exhaustion equals J.J. curled up in front of Netflix and eating sour candies and drinking ginger ale and not moving.

I have really started baking. For the holidays I made gingerbread cookies, brownies for Magpie’s parents, sugar cookies for a holiday party, and now I want to learn to make bread, so I’m doing what I always do and going online to read tutorials. …I supposed I will have to buy a loaf pan. I mean, I think I have one, but a. I have no idea where it is or what shape it’s in, b. I really don’t feel like ransacking my entire kitchen to find it, and c. I seem to end up needing two for this recipe I found. So two new loaf pans it is.

I also need to practice piping icing, ’cause holy hell it is harder than it looks. You think you just squeeze the bag, the icing comes out in a neat little line, and you paint smiles on your gingerbread people/decorations on your cake. No! You have to squeeze the bag with both hands, and keep it steady or it looks like you’re trying to make dashes instead of lines, and the icing has to be fresh and if you squeeze too hard you just make a mess and if you squeeze too lightly nothing happens or the icing comes out in these dots that look like white bunny poop. Man, this sudden desire to be Betty Crocker is difficult.

It’s so quiet. I think I’ll play some music. *goes to Pandora* Ooh, Rent. Light My Candle is pretty depressing, really. ‘Hey, my girlfriend died/I do drugs and I’m a S&M dancer/I think I like you/Me too/Our lives aren’t that great.’

Oh, I got my first rejection! A few weeks ago, from the student literary magazine. I was almost expecting it, because I rushed my submission, but I still hoped. But no. I was apparently trying to be Lolita, cliché, and lacking editing skills. Ouch. I guess I’d better step it up, or get into a new gig, no? It’s a little humbling, when I thought I could just go on in, but I guess writing really is like everything else, in which you have to practice.

Holy cheese, 700 words and I just now get to the topic mentioned in the title of the post.

How long is the honeymoon period? After lengthy research (by which I mean whatever sites I could get to from Google that aren’t blocked at work), it seems to be anywhere from a few months to two years after marriage. So, what, I’m going to be happy to see Magpie for…well, I don’t think we’re getting married anytime soon, but we’ve survived my mood swings, my stomach flu, his issues, my issues, small arguments, and the fact that we both live with our parents, and it’s only been six months-ish. So, is our honeymoon period over? How are you supposed to know? And I’ve seen people together twenty years who act like they’re still mad about each other and people who break up a few months in, so how does that work?

I think this is typical me. ‘I’m happy with something. WHAT’S GOING TO GO WRONG?’

You know what? I’m just going to go with it. I’m happy. I’m not going to try to dissect it for once. If our biggest issue that he doesn’t like that I eat pork (he doesn’t on the grounds that pigs are smart and that chicken and fish are stupid and therefore okay to eat) and I get annoyed that he tries to do high kicks on the subway platform and people stare, I think we’re fine.  (I’m considering maybe giving up pork. Maybe. I like pork. If he promises not to do high kicks on the subway ’cause it’s embarrassing and I worry that he’ll accidentally kick someone and then we become the people who get into a fight on the subway.)

I think I might buy him some pants next paycheck. He needs new pants that don’t look like they’re made to do construction in. He doesn’t really dress up ever ’cause he’s that type. But he looks so good in a button down! /stupid girlfriend whining

I try not to be the ‘omg change your clothes fix your hair what are those shoes’ girlfriend, I really do, but it’s like, ‘Babe, you dress like you’re in high school, stop it.’ Oh well, it doesn’t seem to bother him much. He’s pretty unflappable. Unless I make him watch Project Runway, which he doesn’t like. Probably because it’s about drama and clothes, two things he doesn’t care about. But he says I’m a good girlfriend, so I will try to stay that way. Also we have excellent cuddles and he’s emotionally supportive and- *stops before she goes on and on about how awesome the BF is*

Quick really shameful shallow note: I sometimes wish he were hotter. I mean, I’m attracted to him, and he’s not ugly by any means. But I think my urge to dress him up is a shallow need to have other people think he’s attractive and think that I have an ugly boyfriend. But that’s treating him like a status symbol, and he’s a person, and a good person at that, so I’m trying to get over it. I’m no model anyway. (I’m pretty, but that’s totally different.) Well, actually, a lot of models aren’t that pretty, if we’re talking about conventionally pretty. They’re too tall and angular and such. Whatever. My point is that I love him, but I am apparently shallow enough to wish that he would not dress and cut his hair like a high schooler! I’m going to get stopped one day by a cop who thinks I’ve got a boy-toy!

Okay, this post is getting long, so I’m going to stop now. Happy New Year, everyone!

Sincerely yours,


A Christmas Reapperance

24 12 2013

Merry Christmas Everyone!

I have a part time job in an office! Had it for a few months now, but I’ve been MIA so I’m announcing it now with the celebratory call of the employed: YESSSSSSSSSMON-NAY!

I mean, I’ll probably only be here until September, because I’ve been promised full time schooling in the fall! YAY FOR EDUCATION! But then I’ll go back to food service and not wearing real clothes to work. Unless I get a super ultimately cool internship! Which would be super ultimately cool! (…I’ve been watching too much anime.)

Still with my new boyfriend! (I mean, we’ve been dating since July, so he’s not new, per say, but whatever.) We spent Thanksgiving with his family and we’re splitting Christmas between lunch with his parents and the rest of the day with my family! We’ve survived my stomach flu, we don’t fight (well, I mean, we disagree, but we communicate!) and we laugh a lot.

He’s still not super hunky, but sometimes I get this fluttery caramel feeling looking at his face. I don’t get it.

We’ve exchanged ‘I love you’s. He said it first. I totally said it without planning; it just popped out. It makes me excited and terrified and OMG and like a cork popped out of a bottle of champagne when I wasn’t expecting it.

My therapist worries that it’s not a good thing, since he’s only tutoring right now and doesn’t have a steady job and might not be a forever kind of guy. I hope he turns out to be, but I hear where she’s coming from. It’s not like he’s not looking for work or something. He’s not very materialistic, but I think he likes the idea of supporting me and saving up for a place,  so I think it’ll give him a good kick in the butt even though he’s not a fan of job searching, it stresses him out. (He’s less social than I am, if you can believe it.)

I like having a job. Makes me feel like I have purpose and such. Not as much as a publishing job would, but you know, baby steps!

I have gotten totally into baking lately. I really hope a mixer is under the tree tomorrow, the one I have is a bit old and only has those silver mixing curly sticks. I bought all my presents already, but tonight is wrapping night/brownie night! I’m making my boyfriend’s parents brownies for Christmas. And the buzz from him is that my family totally likes me! YAAAAAY.

What’s everyone hoping for this Christmas? (Or what did you get for Hanukkah?)

Also, what exactly is up with Instagram? Everyone at work is all ‘Oh, I don’t do Facebook, Instagram is where it’s at’.


I think I’m going to start over again with Weight Watchers in the New Year. I’ve been stuck stuck stuck at 152 since my stupid stomach flu-I lost about four pounds but then was so weak afterwards that I totally stopped exercising and then the holidays came around and there was pie and stuffing and office parties and…and…I am weak to those things. And it’s almost my birthday, which means my favorite red velvet cake…yup, New Year’s Resolution is the best way to go. Get back on the wagon, so to speak! I’m not going the ‘It’s the holidays, so it doesn’t count’ route though, I might as well accept another five pounds, and I’m not doing that!


Did everyone watch this season of the Walking Dead? IT WAS AWESOME. It comes back in February, so if you’re behind, it’s time to catch up! Unless you can’t do gore, ’cause this show has blood and guts everywhere.

Oh, other New Year’s resolutions: More posts and more writing!

Speaking of which, I really should be doing that, so I’ll sign off. Merry Christmas, everyone, and if I don’t get on, Happy New Year too!

Sincerely yours,


I was going to write a coherent post. Then stuff happened.

4 08 2013


Drum roll please.


Thank you!


Have a new boyfriend! OMG! It’s so crazy.

Now, he’s no Benedict Cumberbatch. (Is anyone?) I think that’s only occurred to me because the media has constantly provided us with the idea that love requires physical near-perfection and constant conflict,

He might not be the prettiest face, but he’s not ugly, and I like him very much. What’s the quote? ‘Love is not finding a perfect person, but learning to see an imperfect person perfectly.’ Don’t remember who said it. The words are more important.

I’ll call him…hmmm, he needs a nickname. I will call him Sweetness, ’cause he is really quite sweet. Sometimes sweeter than I can handle.

He’s not exactly clingy, but he can hover a little bit. He likes to hold my hand, which I don’t mind. And he cares. He remembers little things. I mentioned a book I couldn’t get from the library, he found it for me. When I was having a bad day he told me to call him any time. And I feel safe in his arms. For me, that means a lot.

Also (innocents, cover your ears), I haven’t had full on sex with him yet. He seems to enjoy getting me off,  quietly, and we haven’t had much privacy, so it’s really slow, especially for me.  And he’s okay with it.

I think that’s the best part. Plus the hope.

The hope that maybe it’s forever. And the hope that we’ll have fun. We already have fun. We’re awkward together, we’re fun together, we wander around for hours and never get bored. We like to cuddle.

Let’s see where we are by December.

In the meantime, I think I’m getting a cold, so I’m going to keep this short.

What’s everyone’s favorite part of a relationship?

Sincerely yours,


P.S. I’ve gained four pounds. I weep. But Sweetness wants me to go jogging with him, so that’ll be fun, no?

A Bed Day (That is not quite a bad day)

11 06 2012

I have a pounding headache, I’m in bed and watching television. And I just remembered to take the fish out of the fridge so I have something to eat for dinner tonight. (See, this is how I gained mega weight, not planning meals. Well actually, the first fifty pounds were due to a medication I was taking, the last fifteen (?) were due to giving up and eating crap.) It’s insane how easy it is to eat badly. Oh well.

I’m glad it’s warm again, even if it means I have to wear shorts sometimes. I have no problems with my legs between ankle and knee, but my thighs must be covered, because even eighteen pounds later, my upper thighs are not pretty. I heard that apple cider vinegar can help their appearance, but I’m not sure if that’s true or not, so I’m trying to go the burn fat/increase muscle route instead. Of course that’s the hard way, but what the heck, it’s not like I have anything else to do.(Cue moping about my jobless existence.) 

Oh, I actually broke up with A. Me. I made a decisive move and BROKE UP WITH SOMEONE. I got such a kick out of that, in a weird way. It was a little sad, and I’ll miss the connection, but it was too crazy, I need someone more stable. I feel stronger now that I’ve done it. Everyone out there who feels like their relationship isn’t working out, or isn’t getting what they need, but is still hanging around-you don’t have to stay if you think it isn’t going to work out. You can go. I think I’m going out clubbing this weekend. I want to party.

And on a somber note, because it’s on my mind. My godmother is dying. I haven’t really said it out loud yet, and seeing it on my screen hurts. She’s my mother’s best friend since grad school, and her daughter and I were always around each other as kids, so we’re…not close, exactly, but we’re always glad to see each other, and that’s saying something. I always thought us girls were all going to get married (well, her daughter is already married, he’s a pilot and he’s nice) and have kids and she and my mom would sit together and play with their grandchildren while we all cooked dinner together. I hope we get to do that one more time.

I’m going to stop talking about this now because I’m going to cry. I’m going to talk about my apparently fiercely ticking biological clock. I am obsessed with kids, especially babies. My maternal instinct is going into hyper super overdrive. It’s a little frustrating, because I’m nowhere near ready to be a mother, and I think I quite fancy myself free and full of possibility (on a good day anyway), but part of me wants to be settled with a house of my own and a love of my own so we can have babies and raise them into children and have a settled life. And apparently I’m turning into one of those women who is obsessed with wedding shows, Say Yes to the Dress in particular. And not the one in Atlanta, because between the southern colloquialisms and the lackluster staff and the not as fantastic southern people, it lacks something. I look at wedding gowns online. I am newly single and I look at wedding gowns mostly because they are pretty and I’m all too romantic.

Has anyone seen the commercial for that new Clinique lip stain? What is with the bouncing cubes of gelatin? 

Also, I now admit I really want to watch that movie with Channing Tatum (is that how you spell his name) where he’s a male stripper. A movie that shamelessly panders to the desire for hot almost completely naked men, whoo! (Besides, Matt Bomer’s in it, and I love him. Like, if I saw him on the street I would run to him and ask him to take pictures with me and sire my children. What, he’s gay? …well, I’m still getting a picture. And maybe a hug. He’s just so beautiful. I would eat him up like candy.)

…okay, it’s sandwich time. And Say Yes to the Dress.

                                                                                                       Sincerely yours,


At the end of a day, I make a choice

30 05 2012

Well, I applied for more jobs today, (technically yesterday because it’s eight minutes after midnight as I type this), went to therapy, went to my writer’s group…and decided that I’m going to break things off with A because I think he’s just gone past what I can trick myself into thinking is okay.

He calls, and I think he’s calling to say hi, maybe ask me to meet him. But no. Between his Sunday bootycall and today, he’s converted, seriously, to Islam. Which in and of itself, would be a little odd, because he recently converted to Christianity, and I thought he was serious about that and his interest in Islam was mostly academic. But no. Now this man, who was poly and in a very sexual relationship with me, says he can’t have sex until marriage, and that marriage can only be with another Muslim. After he told me this, I said something like ‘I’ll talk to you later’ and hung up, proceeding to yell ‘What the FUCK’ so loudly I scared the birds off my windowsill.

Okay. I’m guessing my reaction wasn’t too off the wall, as I told my mother and she started laughing, I told three other people and their reactions were ‘good that you’re leaving’ ‘you can do better, it’s good you’re breaking up with him’ and ‘…if he didn’t want to see you anymore, there were other ways’. So. Yeah. I’m done. I may have said it before, but I’m done. I feel like I’m getting jerked around, and I’m tired of it, and I want to find the one who will be my most important person.

I’m enjoying my food more now. Now I crave salmon more than chicken nuggets. I still crave fries though. But good fries, not McDonalds. I want fresh cut potatoes with mango chutney mayo. Mmm.

You know what else is good? That place Energy Kitchen! I like to get a Bison burger, and mashed sweet potatoes, and corn and edamame salad. Mmm mmm. All that together is about 17 points, which is a little high, but it’s mostly the burger, which at ten points is still better than say, a big mac, which might have the same amount of meat, and is twelve points without sauce. And I now miss working out. (It’s that time of the month, so I’m slacking a little bit, but now I’m grouchy.)

Okay, I’m finishing this post later, I’m falling asleep. (It’s one AM.)

Back now. Still haven’t called A to be all ‘Yeah, we’re done’ because I am terrible at any sort of…what word am I thinking of? Not confrontation. …no, wait, I mean definitive. I have a very hard time being definitive about anything. But since I already asked out the waffle guy (I ASKED SOMEONE OUT HOLY CHEESE), I think I’m done with A. I mean, I think Ms. or Mr. Right for me is out there somewhere, I could find them!

I am trying to organize donations for a nonprofit-for a Christmas party! …I had no idea how much work it was going to be, and I’ve never done it before. There’s paperwork and protocol and I feel all industrious and I love it. But I hope I can pull it off! It makes me worry. But I will try my best.


I realized, even jobless as I am, I’m doing a lot. (My therapist helped.) It’s not like I sit on my butt watching bad television all day. I go to therapy, a writer’s group, my part time gig, I’m doing the Christmas party, I work out. So at least I’ve got stuff going on. So what if I live with my mother, a lot of people do now, what with the economy. So I’m going to take pride in myself!

I am also going to get some red velvet cake. Maybe next week.

Sincerely yours,