Recently I’ve been attempting to condition myself to the idea of not being with Terrence.  Now before all you ladies out there get excited that my boy is up for grabs you hold onto your knickers for a few more minutes while I get to my point.  Things between Terrence and I have always been serious.  We met via the internet and our initial friendship was based entirely on communicating, which resulted in an almost instantaneous love.  We were together for four months before we decided to move in with each other and five months before he first asked me to marry him.  So basically I’ve never had it in my head that this relationship is anything but long lasting… dare I say forever.  I’ve never had to imagine anyone else filling his shoes or the pains of being lonely.  For the last four years I’ve been in a fog.  That is until recently when he announced his thoughts on possibly joining the Peace Corp and being out of the country for two years.  I fully support this plan, in fact I insist upon it.  It’s not my place to stand in the way of any of his dreams or aspirations, especially concerning his career.  We’ve only briefly discussed what would become of us during this time, mostly because nothing is definite yet.  But no matter what we decide after this year I’m going to have to face one thing for sure and that’s being without him.  Whether it’s a hiatus or not, it’s certainly opening up a thought process that I’ve never had to deal with… life after Terrence.  Bizarre.  I don’t like it.  But I’m staying positive, even if he does get chosen for this program and does in fact leave and we decide to ultimately see other people within the two year span of loneliness then I’m hoping that it’ll be a good thing.  Maybe since we were so young when we started this road to forever it’ll be good for us to branch out on our own for a little, explore the world out there long enough to decide it stinks and race back to each other.  By the time he returns I’ll be twenty-eight,  just in time for my biological clock to start going cuckoo… scary.

(Video footage circa 2006)

Oh I love being a girl!

It’s impossible to feel sick as a girl, you’re never just sick you’re always somehow suspiciously pregnant.  Especially when you’re surrounded by other woman hating females.  When the sickness becomes semi-routine you yourself begin to question it too, it’s absolute bullshit.  I often contemplate celibacy to rid myself of these dirty thoughts but then Terrence would leave me for some horny flat assed girl from the bar, damn.  You’d think that birth control would stomp out the sneaking suspicions but 8 out of 100 women on the pill become pregnant every year.

Last year I went off of the pill and heard no end of complaints about it from Terrence.  15 to 29 out of every 100 people using condoms get knocked up annually.  Not that he would anyway, he just whined in a selfish boy way.  I went off of the pill because I went on it to regulate my cycle in the first place and for 4 months in a row I had no period… not the point of being on it and also very frightening.  Several pregnancy tests later I decided to stay off of it until things in my cycle returned to normal. When after a year of no “Flo” my doctor decided to put me on a new pill, Ortho Tri-Cyclen Lo.  We chose this because obviously the Yaz I had been on for years had failed me and prior to that the Yasmin I was on made me ridiculously sick all the time, this new pill was supposed to be superior.

So I’ve been on this new pill for about 6 weeks and last week the girl worries began.  Morning nausea being the first scare, this was only a scare because it was accompanied by tenderness and (I may just be crazy on this one) slight enlargement of my breasts.  The nausea only became more frequent as did my fright and tears.  Not that I have anything against the idea of having a child, I’m very pro-baby… but I’m also a financially ruined and unmarried twenty-five year old with a child hating boyfriend.  Thankfully I have supportive friends that both question my suspicions and add logic to them.  I can’t talk about things like this with Terrence since it would only make him upset and since I also lack a mental health professional in my life my poor friends have to hear it all.  Thankfully no one has yelled at me yet.

You’re probably wondering why I’m coasting through this week of terror without one very obvious solution, a pee stick… yes.  I’ll tell you, I’m trying to hold on to my logic.  I just had my “monthly bill” and I have a gynecologist appointment coming up on Monday so I’m waiting it out.  Not to mention pee sticks are ridiculously expensive and didn’t I just mention the financial ruin? Fear is free.  But as any person with suspicions of illness would do in this day in age I looked up my worries on the internets.  Turns out that this new fancy pill I’m on, the superior pill, the pill to topple all others comes with a few fun side affects.  Familiar friends of mine too, nausea, vomiting, headache or breast tenderness/enlargement may occur… my favorites.  Vindicated!

Why on Earth did I let those woman haters get to me?!  They clouded my right to reason.  Bitches.  And then last night it all came back to me, the terrible experience that I had when I was on Yasmin and then all the nausea made sense and I was finally able to rest easy again.  Oh, how I love being a girl.

Terrible Tube, Part II

Why am I still watching this show?  I think it’s actively getting worse, I’m not sure if it’s the writers that have never actually sat with a real fifteen or sixteen year old or if I’m just too old and out of touch with how irritating teenagers have become.  I have this (I don’t know if I should call it unnatural since I am a girl and all) obsession with all things pregnant.  I watch any show, movie or documentary about pregnant people so I know what drew me to watching this terrible hour of television each Monday night but I’m not sure what’s keeping me.  One comforting thing about this show is at least now that Molly Ringwald is preggers in the really real world she at least has an excuse for being overweight… the hideous part is still up for debate though.

All the lead character does in The Secret Life of the American Teenager is whine and it drives me mad, it got me wondering about the actual youth of America today.  Thankfully MTV decided to ride the coattails of Juno and make a new realty docudrama about 16 year old fornicators dealing with pregnancy and motherhood.  Which I also can’t get enough of, I have a problem.  Although every now and then I take a break from yelling at the television long enough to feel compassion for some of these girls and to thank Jeebus for giving me a great Mother.  On 16 & Pregnant the most bothersome aspect of the show to me is the lack of breast feeding… it makes me crazy to hear these teens gripe over the cost of formula when they have free milk they’re putting to waste.  Well maybe another disturbing facet would be the parents and the boyfriends… especially some of these parents.  It really does make me appreciate my own teenage life at home.  My Mom is the best, thankfully I’ve never taken her for granted and have always been of this opinion.  After a few episodes of this show it just makes you reach for the phone and remind Mom that you love her.

I blame the old lady.

This post may be premature since I’m only just beginning track two as I furiously type away at this but… Why do the Fiery Furnaces have to blow so much?  It took an effort on my part to enjoy them in the first place but once I adjusted myself to their once quirky sound I fell madly in love.  But then they released that god awful album with their grandmother and Matthew released that terrible double disc solo thing… after that I didn’t much appreciate them ever again.  I guess Bitter Tea wasn’t as much of an unforgivable mess as some of the other things they’ve done recently to offend me but I still didn’t really like it.  At this point all I can remember are those ridiculously annoying backwards vocals anyway.

At this point as I look at their discography they have more mediocre and just plain bad albums than they do awesome ones… so does this mean I can never again say that they’re a good band.  Have they exceeded the limit?  Assholes.  It just makes me so mad when people waste talent by putting so much effort into sucking.

I’m on track four of I’m Going Away now and I’m turning it off.  Maybe later on tonight I’ll light a candle and listen to Blueberry Boat as I mourn the passing of a once great band.  I’m just gonna pretend they don’t make music anymore.

Top 5 albums of June.

5. Deerhunter’s Rainwater Cassette Exchange
4. Dirty Projectors’ Bitte Orca
3. Sunset Rubdown’s Dragonslayer
2. Major Lazer’s Guns Don’t Kill People… Lazers Do
1. Bibio’s Ambivalence Avenue

I’ve recently decided that Spencer Krug is spreading himself too thin. I don’t necessarily think that his albums are bad but they’re certainly all lacking the full potential that I know they’re capable of.  This Sunset Rubdown album is very good, don’t get me wrong… but not that much sticks out and it lacks in certain areas, making my mind wander away somewhere in the middle with the occasional jolt back.  Still a good effort though, certainly better than most of June’s releases.

Also, I’m usually not one for reggae since my love affair with Shabba Ranks depleted but I’m absolutely in love with this Major Lazer album.  Then I found out that the masterminds behind it were two scrawny white boys, DJ’s Diplo and Stitch… damn whitey can’t leave the brothers with nothing.  Sadly although afflicted with Caucasian they did a way better job than anyone with their hands in reggae lately so…  I highly recommend it, dancey good times.

And lastly… I’m completely taken away by Bibio’s most recent attempt.  I first listened to it while I was running around my apartment getting ready to go out when I found myself confused.  I thought I had accidentally hit shuffle on my iTunes since the style of music kept changing, I wandered over to my pc and was assured that I was still in fact listening to Ambivalence Avenue.  Befuddled, I walked away and continued to get ready.  The albums is fantastic, so much that I slowed my pace as I got ready just to see if I could accomplish finishing it before I left.  Unfortunately I couldn’t.  But the next day I finished the task and repeated it over and over.  I very much enjoy the style of music switching on me constantly, I keeps in interested and on my toes.  No matter which style Stephen Wilkinson decides to go with on this album it works.  Top notch release, totally worth it.

Playlist: June

Yep, a huge douche bag. (If you’re an avid reader of these playlist posts this first statement won’t be lost on you.) I’ve gotta learn to be better at cranking out my blogs. It’s ok though, you folks still get my monthly music blogs faster than my landlords get my rent so…

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I’ll never be a doctor.

The following topic brings great irritation to my daily life. Enough irritability that I’m giving this topic the esteemed pleasure of an honorable mention on my Murtaugh List. Some discussions are better left alone, I think.

Listen up people. I’m too old to be asked about school! I’m 25 years old, if I was smart enough to have attended college in the first place I would be more than done by now. I’m so tired of this small talk favorite. I know a lot of similarly afflicted college drop outs that are also tired of this question. It makes us feel low and useless. Yes, I’m a degenerate. Now move on to next inane question about my life.

I would sooner talk to a stranger about the intimate sexual details of my life than explain why I’m not in school. Thankfully I’ll be back in school in the Fall so today I got a whole new annoying question to twitch about. What’s my major? Fuck you, I don’t want to explain why I’m studying anthropology… you don’t want to hear about my fascination with the male and female sexual organs, trust me. Actually I should tell them all about it. Serves you right for feeling awkward enough to ask me dumb questions about my boring ass life.

Even though I’ll be going back to school and this question will be validated for the next 8-10 years of my life… I still don’t want to hear it. I’m simply too fucking old for this shit.