Sometimes I Have to be the Bad Guy – and I’ll Learn to Live With It

Being a woman… getting older… finding out who you are… it’s all part of a journey that is probably never really complete (I’ll let you know in 50 years or so if I still feel the same way). I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching this past year. I’ve made a conscious effort to find places for self-improvement, and tonight I’ve found another one.

I tend to take on the role of the “responsible adult” in my family. (If you’ve been reading for a while, you know this already.) I’ve been parenting my parents nearly as long as I can remember, and now that my Dad has passed away and my brother has reached the peak of his “stupid” phase, I find myself wanting to parent him too. But I’m not his parent, and he is an adult now (albeit, barely).

My responsibilities lie in taking care of myself, my Dad’s two dogs (which now reside with me) and my future children. I have to make my decisions for their best interest, as I am their primary caregiver. It is (and will be) my job to ensure they are kept safe and healthy, so if my brother tells me to “go fuck myself” after I’ve refused to let him take the dog camping in the middle of the night with a group of his rowdy 19 year old friends, then I’ll have to be okay with that.

I consider this practice for when I have finally adopted. I will learn to trust my judgement, and not feel guilty or sorry for my decisions.

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Truths about The Italian

Truths about The Italian:

1. I used to think he was a vampire.

2. He’s obsessed with making money and he’s also extremely frugal… and I mean extremely to the point of irritation (mine). He works 7 days a week just for the cash.

3. His accent is strong and I can’t understand half of what he says. This is probably why I like him, I only ever have to smile and nod.

4. He’s extremely critical of people, often arrogant, and sometimes flat out rude. He can also surprise me by being incredibly sweet. To be honest, I like that he can take my shit.

5. He’s even sexier than he used to be. This morning at breakfast (he finally took me on a “real date”-his idea-and he even paid) his arms and chest were nearly busting out of his shirt.

6. He’s funny! Usually it’s sarcasm or something awful he’s done to someone… but he makes me laugh regardless. I live in an area called “Huntington” and this morning he called it “Hung Ting Tang” because he didn’t recognize “Huntington” as being an english word. Maybe you had to be there.

7. He smells so good. He has a cologne “dealer”. WTF is a cologne dealer?

8. You probably wouldn’t like him.

Updating and Unplugging

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First, I want to say thank you. Thank you for all of the comments, tweets, texts, IM’s, DM’s, emails and phone calls I’ve received over the past several weeks, while I’ve been going through this rough stuff. People I don’t … Continue reading