If you’re getting fucked over, might as well do it twice

Today I want a tell you a little story about forgiveness. JK. This is a story about someone who fucked me over, big time, and then did it again. And I let him. I want to repeat myself, this is not to demean anyone in the story, as they’re most likely not the same person they were then, I’m sure I’m not. These stories are all to give you all a little insight into how much of an idiot I am.

I was an asshole and an idiot. I forgot about the asshole part until I remembered how this story started. A guy, who is the center of this anecdote, came into my life like a wrecking ball (and not in the Miley Cyrus romantic-licking-a-hammer kind of way). We had known each other for a while, been friendly. We hung out in the same stoner area in college (I was not a stoner, but I studied English Lit, so yeah). For some reason one day we ended up alone in the area we call “El Teatro” and just talked for, like, ever. Me, being the nosey person that I am, asked him very personal questions right off the bat. I distinctly remember asking him how many of the girls who hung out there he had hooked up with, because I knew there were more than just a few. I also didn’t give a flying fuck about boundaries. To this day I think asking outrageous questions is the realest way to get to know someone. For some reason, he wasn’t offended, more like fascinated.

Coincidentally – and this is where me being an asshole comes in – a friend of mine, whom I will give no name to, was also interested in him. Of note: she was interested in him in a far away kind of interest. Like the guy you think is cute in your Behavioral Sciences class, but would never date unless he went out of his way to do so. BUT it doesn’t excuse what I did, it was dickish and sucky and just wrong. GIRL CODE, DAMN IT.

I went into this knowing I was moving to Boston when I graduated, which was about seven months away. So we were dating. He was interesting and smart, kind of haughty and pedantic, but usually with other people so I was okay with it (I usually found it kinda sexy). But then shit happened…

I didn’t trust him. And ladies and gentlemen, I want to advise you to NEVER DO WHAT I DID (and I will tell you why*). I didn’t trust him so I went through his phone (RUDE AF). And of course, I found a few things that sucked here and there, nothing too horrendous, but then I hit the mother load. And it was the worst kind of blow. Unfortunately, this is too personal beyond my life and affects others, so I won’t go into detail. But I will just say, he cheated on me and more. Now that, ladies and gents, sucked dick. It sucked mostly because it hurt my pride. What did she have that I didn’t? Why is he looking for more? Why why why why. And THIS is why cheating is awful.

I packed a bag and he begged for forgiveness. We were months away from breaking up anyway and I enjoyed his company enough so I stayed.

Why.

Did.

I.

Stay.

Our relationship continued seemingly well.

Until again, I didn’t trust him. And I went through his phone again. And there she was, AGAIN.

They had made plans to meet etcetcetc. Needless to say, WTF.

Now, let me retrace my steps. Remember when I told you I didn’t trust him and saw that he had cheated and forgave him? This is where I have a confession to make. I forgave him the first time in large part because I had also “cheated” on him around the time he had “cheated” on me. I wasn’t even sure if we had even cheated on each other since we had been “together” nearly two months at the time. Although, like I said, what he did was worse than cheating, but I like I said, I won’t get into it.

This time, though, I had been faithful. And it made me doubt myself beyond the first time around. It made me doubt myself as a woman, sexually. Which sucks a lot for someone is so open about sexuality. Or for anyone honestly.

Although the relationship had an expiration date, I at least expected a level of respect. And I did not receive it.

I told him I forgave him, because at this point we were less than two months away from me moving away. And I’m really bad with confrontation AKA breakups. So, I was 2x an idiot and stayed AGAIN (HALP).

Whyyyyyy.

I remember my last weeks, where I had pulled away almost entirely. He kept trying to reach me. Did nice things for me. It was too late though. So women/men, realize that we all have a limit. No body, brain, soul was made to endure such abuse. Things snowball and when you realize, it’s too late, and the resentment is TOO MUCH.

NEVER LET IT GET THERE. Communicate, and if that doesn’t work, move on. Because a relationship between two people who loved each other should never end with both parties hating each other and that’s what happens when you let shit snowball.

*LADIES AND MEN ALIKE – NEVER EVER CHECK YOUR PARTNER’S PHONES. I will tell you why, “El que busca encuentra”. Translates to “he/she whom seeks, will find”. You will ALWAYS find something to pick at and argue about. If you aren’t trusting your partner enough to want to check their phone, then something is wrong and you need to address it before you even THINK about actually doing it. I, for one, have now learned to either trust my partner blindly or break it up. It’s not worth the doubt and the questioning and the fighting.

I hope I have depicted myself correcly as the idiot and asshole that I was back then.

Oh and after I told my friend about how well the relationship turned out, she forgave me. Ok, I’m lying, she had already forgiven me, but she did thank me!

Sooooo, there was my anecdote for today. Hope you all enjoyed!

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Ilustration is by Carrie Hartman

Glasses are my thing, and how it happened

So, this morning I woke up as usual, kind of not really aware of my surroundings, and desperately reaching around for my glasses so I can make sense of the world. At this point I’ve been wearing glasses full-time (yes, like a job) for five years. However I had discovered I needed them eight years ago. What happened during those three years before I was wearing them full-time, you ask? I lived in denial. I, for some reason, thought I looked horrible with glasses and would carry them in my bag for only dire situations like class or 3D movies. Sidenote: 3D movies for people with myopia is inhumane torture. Anyway, I remember walking around the University campus and not being able to discern anyone’s face unless they were right next to me. I would constantly get messages from people telling me I was a bitch for ignoring them. If you’re reading this, you now realize I was a vain idiot.

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Me wearing my first Warby Parker glasses.

I can’t really pinpoint the moment I decided, fuck it! I needed glasses desperately. It was ridiculous to walk around half knowing what you were seeing. Truly. Slowly but surely, I began wearing them more and more. Until I reached a point I was wearing them daily, and that’s when it became very important to me which glasses I wore.

Slightly off-topic – you’re all probably wondering, “why don’t you wear contacts?” Good question amigos! I don’t wear contacts because contacts are not my friend. I tried, not too long ago, to wear contacts for the first time. Little did I know you have to try them on and take them off three times successfully at the doctor’s office before they let you leave with them. I was originally scheduled for an hour and a half session. I was there for a little under three hours. My eyes were as red as my anger was and dry as my soul. I literally wanted to strangle them for making me do this. Alas, they let me leave with me having put them in and taken them out TWICE. Yes folks, twice in almost three hours. After that I wore them only for special occasions, like my birthday in Puerto Rico. But really I just didn’t like the feel of them. I decided firmly that they weren’t for me.

Now that that’s been cleared up, I got obsessed with glasses. Maybe a little too obsessed. Please see below my collection.

Shop my glasses: first on the left, second on the left, third on the left, right, bottom.

Also, yes, I’m aware my hair also changes as much as my glasses. What I can I say? I love to change it up!

*There’s also a pair that’s missing form there, but I don’t seem to have any pictures wearing them, which makes sense because they’re my “at home” glasses.

My collection has glasses from Warby Parker, Tom Ford, Miu Miu, and GlassesUSA. They all cater to a side of my personality, which I think is why I have embraced using glasses. I’m not very much on accessorizing, I use the same necklace and watch and nothing else – so I make up for it in glasses.

I’ll never forget a previous boss of mine (she was just five years older than me) came in to work wearing glasses and told me how odd she felt because “glasses are your thing”. And I just felt like there has never been a statement so true. So please blind women everywhere, embrace your blindness and make it cool.

Leave me a comment below telling me how cool I am! Or just make fun of me IDC!

xxxxxx

 

I’m BAAAAACK

Hi All,

I guess, I don’t even know how or where to start. It’s been almost 4 years since I last posted on here? What? Don’t worry, I’m still here being just as awkward and trying to be fab… and still failing. But hey, I am no quitter!

So what’s new? I moved to Boston, fucked up grandly in more ways than one, got an adult job, hated it, left it, moved to DC, have another adult job, still don’t have a 401k cause my money’s in my shoes, and live with my sis now. Uh, I think that sums it up pretty nicely.

So, here’s what’s new with the blog – I want to continue posting about fashion and all that jazz. But I also am going to post my creative writing. As well as any random thoughts/memories/stories that pop into my mind.

Right now I need a creative outlet, and THAT’s what you guys are going to be for me. I need a place to be me without giving a flying fuck about opinions or seeming PC. 9-5 life will do that to you I suppose.

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So, here’s a fun little tidbit of juiciness. I WANT TO PREFACE THIS by saying this story (and any of the stories following) are not being written to make ANYONE, except myself, look bad.

Once upon a time I was young, naive and insecure. Basically, I was every college student trying to “find herself”. Any who, I met this guy, who we will call Joe. I cannot recall for the life of me HOW we met, but it was some type of cyber way, because my brain cannot really exact a physical meeting. Anyway, Joe, for my standards and tastes, was a regulation hottie. He had that classic Guaynabo look (this would make sense if you’re from Puerto Rico) tan skin, brown eyes, brown hair, tall, lean. IDK if I can speak for all girls from other places in PR, but guys, I’ll admit it, I had a thing for Guaynabo boys. Why? IDK. They were a mystical creature from another planet from my point of view. At that time. However, he was not all there in the head. I can’t speak for him now, but he definitely was missing more than a few neurons back in the day.

I didn’t care. I thought he was the cutest thing to look my way. Boy, was I an idiot. We continued this shitty “relationship” (if you dare call it such a thing!) where we spoke all the time ABOUT NOTHING and hardly ever saw each other. Please note, I have been in denial of getting my driver’s license and have made all boys who date me have to pick me up and drop me off in the hell hole called Dorado (not so close to the rest of the world) all my life. In other words, I sucked. But I digress. He called me nearly every day, like I was drug that he needed. I made him feel better about himself when he fucked up. I was there to listen. I was there for him. Snoooooooze fest.

So the time of year came around for Las Fiestas de la Calle San Sebastian (translates to: a party where all Puerto Ricans get drunk collectively and have a shitty time but MUST ATTEND or else you’re nobody). I had planned on meeting up with him, but as goes with this party yearly, your plans usually change. People get lost (once my boyfriend and I lost each other in a crowd NO JOKE NO LIE) and sometimes (most times) people get in arguments and just abandon each other. Ours was a much more drama free situation, I think he just ended up bailing cause his friends were doing so as well. Whatever the case was, I ran into this girl we all (people from Dorado) knew. We will name her Karen. I, being the idiot I was/am, go chat to her because I remember she knows Joe. I’m so excited to finally talk to someone who actually knows him, and after our small talk I ask enthusiastically “You know Joe, right?” and Karen, the young doll that she is, answers “Yeah, I made out with him the other night!”

Pause.

Pause.

Pause.

Awkward silence.

Pause.

“I’ve been kinda dating him” I reply while my body slowly contorts itself into fetal position on the street. (JK! Kinda)

Pause.

Awkward silence.

“Omg, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I-”

Goodbye Karen.

 

Needless to say, he wasn’t hot enough for that shit. I know guys, what a dumb story, but hey, don’t you love awkward moments! I know I do……n’t?

Leave  me a comment with some love and sugar. Or some hate. IDC. #desperateforattention #maybe

xxxxxxx