Here at LoserEx, we consider ourselves experts on dating. And as such, we feel qualified to give out unsolicited advice. Unlike other advice columns, we're not very tactful. Actually, we're pretty bitchy. We plan to continue giving our advice to people who sound like they need it, whether they want it or not. If you actually want our advice on something, feel free to email us.
Today's questions come from the Washington Post live chat:
Marriage for kids?: Hi Carolyn, Thanks for taking my question. I just found out I'm pregnant. I'm slowly getting to be very happy about this news even though it was not, ahem, planned. My boyfriend wants to get married before the baby comes. But is a baby the right reason to get married? I've not always been supportive of marriage because I've seen what happens to friends when they divorced and it wouldn't have been nearly as messy if that slip of paper was not involved and they could have just walked away. If it helps, we're both mid to late thirties but haven't been together very long.
You're having a kid with this man but you don't want to get married for fear a break-up would be messy? If you do break up five years down the line, without having ever gotten married, how do you see this working out? You have a kid together. You don't get to just walk away anymore. I don't really care if you get married or not, but just realize either way you're not going to be making a clean break.
Also, if you choose to get married, please choose a small tasteful ceremony (maybe even just going to the courthouse) over a big white wedding. There is nothing tackier than a visibly pregnant bride waddling down the aisle of a church in a fluffy white gown, flanked by 7 bridesmaids. Seriously. I'm embarrassed for you just thinking about it.
Washington DC: Carolyn -- Can you think of any reason it would ever be ok for your boyfriend to hack in and read your email? Or is that pretty much always a dealbreaker?
I would like to elaborate on Carolyn Hax's response here (which was "Dealbreaker.").
If your boyfriend is hacking into your email, he does not trust you. I do not know whether this is merited, but that doesn't matter. If a basic level of trust cannot exist, you guys should not date. If you continue to date him, he will continue to read your email (trust me on this one, once that door has been opened, there is no turning back) and probably find other ways to spy on you as well. You deserve to be with someone who trusts you and respects your privacy. Your boyfriend does not. Just dump him. Seriously.
Then change all your passwords.
On a related note, if you're ever thinking about snooping through your significant other's email/text messages/voicemail/secret diary, take a hard look at your relationship. Chances are it's time to end things.
Tuesday, December 07, 2010
Wednesday, September 08, 2010
Really, I'm Not Going Anywhere or Talk Economics to Me, Baby
I love my fiance. Really, I do. But I simply do not understand why he becomes jealous so easily. A certain amount of jealousy is acceptable and even sweet. If another guy is talking to me in a bar, I think its cute if my fiance comes over to me and puts his arm around me.
But I am virtually unable to mention an ex in front of him if its in an even semi-positive way. I would not do this toward the beginning of a relationship, but we've been together for more than two years--so its getting a bit old. There are a number of ex's that played an important role in my past and with every one of them, there were at least some good times that I do not want forget. So, if I say something about how an ex and I took a trip to Hot Springs and went to a natural spa there, it does not mean that I am considering leaving him to go back to the ex. It just means that I want to share something about my past with the person I want to spend my future with.
And for God's sake, when I say something like "Oh, how I love Paul Krugman," rest assured that I have no impending plans to run off with him. The same goes for any other economist I express admiration for. Also, John Maynard Keynes is very dead and very gay--and I possess neither a propensity for necrophilia nor a penis.
But I am virtually unable to mention an ex in front of him if its in an even semi-positive way. I would not do this toward the beginning of a relationship, but we've been together for more than two years--so its getting a bit old. There are a number of ex's that played an important role in my past and with every one of them, there were at least some good times that I do not want forget. So, if I say something about how an ex and I took a trip to Hot Springs and went to a natural spa there, it does not mean that I am considering leaving him to go back to the ex. It just means that I want to share something about my past with the person I want to spend my future with.
And for God's sake, when I say something like "Oh, how I love Paul Krugman," rest assured that I have no impending plans to run off with him. The same goes for any other economist I express admiration for. Also, John Maynard Keynes is very dead and very gay--and I possess neither a propensity for necrophilia nor a penis.
Tuesday, September 07, 2010
Ask Loser Ex: Giving them something to talk about
Here at LoserEx, we consider ourselves experts on dating. And as such, we feel qualified to give out unsolicited advice. Unlike other advice columns, we're not very tactful. Actually, we're pretty bitchy. We plan to continue giving our advice to people who sound like they need it, whether they want it or not. If you actually want our advice on something, feel free to email us.
Today's question comes from the Washington Post live chat:
Nashville: I'm a happily married 35-year-old woman. A few weeks ago, I was having drinks at the home of a single female friend who is prone to "oversharing" about her personal life, particularly the rather large number of men she sleeps with.. After an extra margarita or two, she persuaded me to talk about my sex life with my husband -- which is very satisfying and fun, by the way. Much to my surprise, I found myself telling her that we engage in some "kinky" activities -- I spank him, he sometimes wears panties, etc. She was absolutely shocked, told me that my husband would never be a "real" man and that he was almost certainly gay. To my astonishment, she has told several mutual friends about my confession, and now I suspect people are laughing behind our backs. I have cut off all contact with her, but I'm still worried about the firestorm of gossip this has created. What should I do?
You say your husband wears panties like it's a normal thing. And then you are surprised at your friend's reaction. You were probably also surprised that you were teased in middle school for wearing glasses/braces/suede walking shorts over tights. As your mother undoubtedly explained to you then (unless you are me, in which case, Mom selected the aforementioned suede shorts outfit), kids tease you because it gets a reaction. To make it stop, just don't give them the gratification. They will get bored and find someone else to pick on.
Your mom was partially right: yes, the teasing will end much faster if you don't acknowledge it. So, in that regard, you should own the fact that your husband borrows your underwear.
Here's where your mom was mistaken: in middle school you were teased because you were different. While some kids thrived on not being "mainstream", you most likely teased your bangs, trailer park style and wore your jeans pegged to look like every other girl in your seventh-grade class. You prefer to fit in. And that's socially acceptable.
Unfortunately, you have entered into a life-long commitment with a man who does not like to do what's socially acceptable. I cannot imagine a situation where my husband would willingly (and happily) wear my underwear. I cannot imagine a situation where I would willingly (and happily) allow my husband to wear my underwear. My quick, unscientific poll of my female friends suggest that this behavior ranges from weird, to downright nasty. My quick, unscientific poll of my husband is that heterosexual men don't want to be the woman in the relationship. This includes dressing up as a woman for your sexual pleasure.
To update mom's advice: if you want your friends to stop laughing at you behind your back, stop telling people about your weird sexual behavior. I am of the mindset that it's not my business what you are doing in a consensual adult relationship with another human being. But if you make it my business, don't be offended when I judge you.
Today's question comes from the Washington Post live chat:
Nashville: I'm a happily married 35-year-old woman. A few weeks ago, I was having drinks at the home of a single female friend who is prone to "oversharing" about her personal life, particularly the rather large number of men she sleeps with.. After an extra margarita or two, she persuaded me to talk about my sex life with my husband -- which is very satisfying and fun, by the way. Much to my surprise, I found myself telling her that we engage in some "kinky" activities -- I spank him, he sometimes wears panties, etc. She was absolutely shocked, told me that my husband would never be a "real" man and that he was almost certainly gay. To my astonishment, she has told several mutual friends about my confession, and now I suspect people are laughing behind our backs. I have cut off all contact with her, but I'm still worried about the firestorm of gossip this has created. What should I do?
You say your husband wears panties like it's a normal thing. And then you are surprised at your friend's reaction. You were probably also surprised that you were teased in middle school for wearing glasses/braces/suede walking shorts over tights. As your mother undoubtedly explained to you then (unless you are me, in which case, Mom selected the aforementioned suede shorts outfit), kids tease you because it gets a reaction. To make it stop, just don't give them the gratification. They will get bored and find someone else to pick on.
Your mom was partially right: yes, the teasing will end much faster if you don't acknowledge it. So, in that regard, you should own the fact that your husband borrows your underwear.
Here's where your mom was mistaken: in middle school you were teased because you were different. While some kids thrived on not being "mainstream", you most likely teased your bangs, trailer park style and wore your jeans pegged to look like every other girl in your seventh-grade class. You prefer to fit in. And that's socially acceptable.
Unfortunately, you have entered into a life-long commitment with a man who does not like to do what's socially acceptable. I cannot imagine a situation where my husband would willingly (and happily) wear my underwear. I cannot imagine a situation where I would willingly (and happily) allow my husband to wear my underwear. My quick, unscientific poll of my female friends suggest that this behavior ranges from weird, to downright nasty. My quick, unscientific poll of my husband is that heterosexual men don't want to be the woman in the relationship. This includes dressing up as a woman for your sexual pleasure.
To update mom's advice: if you want your friends to stop laughing at you behind your back, stop telling people about your weird sexual behavior. I am of the mindset that it's not my business what you are doing in a consensual adult relationship with another human being. But if you make it my business, don't be offended when I judge you.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Beefcake
A couple of years ago, I wrote about a date I went on with Beefcake, who was involved in a relationship at the time. Well, guess who's getting married!
This November, Beefcake will walk down the aisle with a nice girl whom he has been dating since 2006. Notice a problem here? Their wedding page has the usual saccharine-sweet stories about the happy couple, details about the event and their registry. Nothing about it really stands out as being particularly interesting.
Except for one little thing -- the part that really breaks my heart is his future wife's happy description of their courtship:
We met June 5, 2006 in "beautiful" [redacted] for [redacted]. A wonderful friendship grew into much more over the next several months and in November during [redacted] weekend we made it official.
For those of you keeping track at home, my date with Beefcake took place in spring of 2007. Several months after they had made it official. The worst part is that his fiancee truly seems like a nice girl. And seems truly oblivious to what an ass Beefcake actually is.
I would never wish for anyone's relationship to fail, so instead I am going to hope that what happened with Beefcake was a one time deal and that he will be a wonderful husband.
This November, Beefcake will walk down the aisle with a nice girl whom he has been dating since 2006. Notice a problem here? Their wedding page has the usual saccharine-sweet stories about the happy couple, details about the event and their registry. Nothing about it really stands out as being particularly interesting.
Except for one little thing -- the part that really breaks my heart is his future wife's happy description of their courtship:
We met June 5, 2006 in "beautiful" [redacted] for [redacted]. A wonderful friendship grew into much more over the next several months and in November during [redacted] weekend we made it official.
For those of you keeping track at home, my date with Beefcake took place in spring of 2007. Several months after they had made it official. The worst part is that his fiancee truly seems like a nice girl. And seems truly oblivious to what an ass Beefcake actually is.
I would never wish for anyone's relationship to fail, so instead I am going to hope that what happened with Beefcake was a one time deal and that he will be a wonderful husband.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Loser Current
You know those Halloween costumes that cheap, lazy parents bought their kids in the '80s? The ones that involved a plastic mask and a plastic apron with the name and a picture of the character on it?
I know you do. But, if you're going to play dumb with me, here is what I am talking about.
This year, I've started working on my costume early, and despite the fact that it is a clearly identifiable character, he has once again suggested a name tag. Now, if a name tag is appropriate for the costume, then it makes sense. But, there are only so many times when that is the case. If I were planning to dress up as a waitress or a game show contestant, then his suggestion to wear a name tag would be spot on.
But, I am not putting together a waitress or game show contestant costume. I am putting together a Carmen Sandiego costume (which, by the way, is awesome).
Carmen is a thief, not a camp counselor. She doesn't wear a name tag. She does, however, wear a pretty distinct outfit that cannot be mistaken for much else. If someone doesn't get the red trench coat and fedora, then they wouldn't know who Carmen Sandiego is anyway, so the name tag would be useless. They either get this costume, or they don't. I think my boyfriend may fall into the latter category, as he also believes that Carmen wears lingerie under her coat and carries sex toys.
I know you do. But, if you're going to play dumb with me, here is what I am talking about.
 |
| Donald Duck does not wear a picture of himself. |
Anyway, I am certain that my boyfriend invented these costumes in a past life. Seriously. He insists on adding a name tag to every costume. He's tried to convince me to wear a name tag with my Halloween costume every year.
This year, I've started working on my costume early, and despite the fact that it is a clearly identifiable character, he has once again suggested a name tag. Now, if a name tag is appropriate for the costume, then it makes sense. But, there are only so many times when that is the case. If I were planning to dress up as a waitress or a game show contestant, then his suggestion to wear a name tag would be spot on.
 |
| Carmen Sandiego does not wear a name tag. |
Carmen is a thief, not a camp counselor. She doesn't wear a name tag. She does, however, wear a pretty distinct outfit that cannot be mistaken for much else. If someone doesn't get the red trench coat and fedora, then they wouldn't know who Carmen Sandiego is anyway, so the name tag would be useless. They either get this costume, or they don't. I think my boyfriend may fall into the latter category, as he also believes that Carmen wears lingerie under her coat and carries sex toys.
Thursday, June 03, 2010
LoserEx Answers Your Questions
Here at LoserEx, we consider ourselves experts on dating. And as such, we feel qualified to give out unsolicited advice. Unlike other advice columns, we're not very tactful. Actually, we're pretty bitchy. We plan to continue giving our advice to people who sound like they need it, whether they want it or not. If you actually want our advice on something, feel free to email us.
Today's question comes from the Washington Post live chat:
Do nice girls finish last?: It seems to me through many years of observation that the bitchiest, most high-maintenance and demanding women are the ones getting all the men, and nice girls finish last. I don't need a "provider" and don't want children, am successful, own my own home, etc. That seems to be such a turn-off to men! Is it that the bitchy/demanding/insecure ones make them feel "needed"? And why are so many husbands putting up with being nagged incessantly instead of choosing an easygoing, undemanding partner? And how do women like that let the guys know that 'yes, we still do need them'?
Today's question comes from the Washington Post live chat:
Do nice girls finish last?: It seems to me through many years of observation that the bitchiest, most high-maintenance and demanding women are the ones getting all the men, and nice girls finish last. I don't need a "provider" and don't want children, am successful, own my own home, etc. That seems to be such a turn-off to men! Is it that the bitchy/demanding/insecure ones make them feel "needed"? And why are so many husbands putting up with being nagged incessantly instead of choosing an easygoing, undemanding partner? And how do women like that let the guys know that 'yes, we still do need them'?
As soon as I read this, two things popped in my head: 1) You don't sound very nice. 2) I bet you're fat and/or ugly. Since I am probably one of those girls who is bitchy, high maintenance and demanding, I decided to ask a guy for his thoughts on your question. He said the exact same two things. Just, not in that order.
I am not going to answer your questions because I feel that your premises are invalid -- nice girls are able to find men. All other things being equal, men do not prefer to be nagged incessantly. Instead, I am going to tell you why you are unable to land a man.
First, as I mentioned before, my first thought when reading your question is that you don't sound nice. Honestly, the overall tone of your letter is bitchy and bitter. No one wants to hang out with someone who whines about how all her demanding friends can snag a man but she can't. The fact that you're calling these women bitchy, high maintenance and demanding also does not make you seem nice. I have no reason to believe that you are a nice girl. Rather, I think that you have no real stand-out qualities, so you're assuming you're nice.
Why do you think you're nice? Have men described you as nice? That is usually a euphemism for fat. Also, based on your question, I am guessing that you think high maintenance is the opposite of nice. So, based on that, I am assuming that you consider yourself ultra-low maintenance. You probably are the type of woman who doesn't wear make-up or heels or dresses. You probably don't shave your legs or get your eyebrows waxed. This is not attractive to men. Yes, every man says he wants someone who is low maintenance, but what he really means is he wants someone who isn't wearing gobs of makeup. Gobs of makeup isn't pretty, but neither is broken out skin, under eye circles and eyebrows that have run amuk. Men want women who look pretty. Being pretty means being put together, which could be what you refer to as "high maintenance".
You conclude by implying that you are an easygoing, undemanding partner. To me, this means you sit on the couch like a lump. If this is all you have to offer, you're boring. You do not sound like you bring anything to the table other than a house. And unless it is a really sweet house, it's not going to land you a man. This also contradicts the overall tone of your letter. You bitch about being single, but then swear you're so easy to get along with. You sound desperate, and desperation is only a turn-on at last call.
And how do women like that let the guys know that 'yes, we still do need them?' Don't worry about letting men know you're needy. They already know; you're dripping in desperation.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
I Should Have Known Five-Hundred, Twenty-Five Thousand, Six Hundred Minutes Ago that You'd be my Ex-Boyfriend
My high school boyfriend loved RENT. At the time, I'd never seen the play, the movie didn't exist yet, and I had very little idea of what it was about. I knew vague things like, it was about AIDS and homosexuality. Being the superliberal I am, I figured, well, all these people like it, its about counter-culture-ish topics, its probably good, right? Fast-forward a few years, boy, was I wrong!
I am a bleeding heart, tree-hugging liberal atheist, who also loves musicals. Granted, the musicals I like tend to be more of the "My Fair Lady," "Singin' in the Rain," Gene Kelly-esque persuasion. But I HATED RENT. Seriously, I'm expected feel sorry for a bunch of lazy, good-for-nothing "artiste" types who don't want to pay their damn rent? Really? Really? What makes them so special that they don't have to pay rent like the rest of the world? Oh, sorry, I forgot. It's because they are bohemian, misunderstood "artists." Please disregard the fact that they fail to produce anything resembling art. One guy pieces together home movies. Yeah, my fiance's sister did that for her family's Christmas presents last year. It was entertaining for those of us who knew the people, but I would scarcely call it art. Another manages to write one song and carries a guitar around all year, but the most you hear from it is a couple of chords. Oh, and the martyr of RENT kills a dog for money. Yep, these are very sympathetic people. Frankly, by the time the AIDS stuff became a major theme, I'd already grown to despise the characters so much I couldn't have cared less that they had AIDS or Ebola or Dengue fever.
Seriously, societal norms exist for a reason. They make the world function (relatively) smoothly and peacefully. I dislike movies/plays that try to convince people that following society's rules is "selling out" (God, I hate that phrase). Sure, I can support and applaud art that points out and condemns discrimination and other things that are truly harmful. But paying the fucking rent? Are you kidding me? Get a job, hippie.
A far more effective play/movie would have been about a group of 20-somethings, all gainfully employed or trying hard to become so, struggling to make ends meet, while still trying to embrace life and live what they have left to its fullest. I would have responded far better to a story about adults acting like adults than I did to RENT, a story about adults acting like children--but I don't wanna pay my rent.
So most of this has been a rant about why I hate RENT, but the point is, my ex loved RENT.Had I known then what god-awful tripe RENT is, I could have saved myself a lot of time. Knowing what I know now, I feel wholly justified in judging people who like RENT--and would certainly never date one again.
I am a bleeding heart, tree-hugging liberal atheist, who also loves musicals. Granted, the musicals I like tend to be more of the "My Fair Lady," "Singin' in the Rain," Gene Kelly-esque persuasion. But I HATED RENT. Seriously, I'm expected feel sorry for a bunch of lazy, good-for-nothing "artiste" types who don't want to pay their damn rent? Really? Really? What makes them so special that they don't have to pay rent like the rest of the world? Oh, sorry, I forgot. It's because they are bohemian, misunderstood "artists." Please disregard the fact that they fail to produce anything resembling art. One guy pieces together home movies. Yeah, my fiance's sister did that for her family's Christmas presents last year. It was entertaining for those of us who knew the people, but I would scarcely call it art. Another manages to write one song and carries a guitar around all year, but the most you hear from it is a couple of chords. Oh, and the martyr of RENT kills a dog for money. Yep, these are very sympathetic people. Frankly, by the time the AIDS stuff became a major theme, I'd already grown to despise the characters so much I couldn't have cared less that they had AIDS or Ebola or Dengue fever.
Seriously, societal norms exist for a reason. They make the world function (relatively) smoothly and peacefully. I dislike movies/plays that try to convince people that following society's rules is "selling out" (God, I hate that phrase). Sure, I can support and applaud art that points out and condemns discrimination and other things that are truly harmful. But paying the fucking rent? Are you kidding me? Get a job, hippie.
A far more effective play/movie would have been about a group of 20-somethings, all gainfully employed or trying hard to become so, struggling to make ends meet, while still trying to embrace life and live what they have left to its fullest. I would have responded far better to a story about adults acting like adults than I did to RENT, a story about adults acting like children--but I don't wanna pay my rent.
So most of this has been a rant about why I hate RENT, but the point is, my ex loved RENT.Had I known then what god-awful tripe RENT is, I could have saved myself a lot of time. Knowing what I know now, I feel wholly justified in judging people who like RENT--and would certainly never date one again.
Monday, April 05, 2010
Kissing a Smoker is like Licking an Ashtray
Colossus (my ex who lives in Arkansas,who in my last post eons ago, I had just left) is a big guy. Really big--6 ft 8.
He is also a good guy. A good enough guy that I was totally prepared to marry him and may well have had circumstances been different. He has an ex-wife and a (truly adorable) young son, so he is pretty much tied to Little Rock. After a while of living there, I realized I would simply never be happy if I too were tied there. So, I left. It was the single hardest thing I've ever done and sometimes I wonder about what might have happened. This was truly the relationship that taught me that, contrary to what the Beatles may claim, love is not all you need.
This is a little story about an incident in which he irritated the hell out of me. It's certainly not a candidate for "why my ex should rot in hell" status, but annoying nonetheless.
I am a pack a day smoker. (Sidenote: this is something RGB's Fred and I bonded over--this and Billy Joel. (Additional sidenote: the first time I typed "bonded," I accidentally wrote "boned." Not a Freudian slip, I promise RGB.)) I know, I know--gross, you're killing yourself, trashy, etc. I've heard them all and I'll quit when I finally decide for myself that I want to. I've tried to quit for other people in the past and now realize that its just too hard to do unless you want to quit for yourself.
Well, Colossus HATED that I smoke. Really, truly despised it. I'm sure he could write his own loser-ex post about my smoking. He would harp on me all the time about my smoking--and, in my defense, I did try very hard several times to quit, but just couldn't do it. He said it was nasty (true), unhealthy (true), and made me smell bad (true). It got to the point that in the last few months of our relationship, he refused to kiss me not matter how many times I brushed my teeth, used mouthwash, and showered. Now, I know I'm a smoker, so I'm mostly immune to the smell and rarely ever smell it on me (though I know its there), but can you really still smell it after all that? This is an honest question. I'm not going to be offended if you say yes. Colossus said that it came through my pores even if I showered, etc. (My God, that's really gross, now that its typed out.)
But the fact remained, I am a smoker. So, Colossus decided to switch to more devious tactics.
I always left my cigarettes in the car and never smoked at home if he was there (and never in the house, obviously), because I knew how much it upset him. After a big fight about my smoking, during which I agreed to try to quit again (I lied and made no attempt to quit, just to hide it better), he began stealing my packs of cigarettes out of my car. Because I was supposed to be trying to quit, I did not want to confront him about it and tell him to stop. So, in response, I started hiding them in different places inside the car. Under the seat, inside the piles of ever-present crap in my car, even in the compartment in the trunk for my car jack. But he always found them. I kept buying more and refusing to say anything about it, even though I knew that he obviously knew that I wasn't quitting. I have a massive stubborn streak (I am also stubborn in the fact that I insist upon thinking that my stubbornness is endearing), so confronting him would entail me acknowledging that I was lying--and I wasn't about to do that.
This went on for about two weeks. I was spending an absurd amount of money on cigarettes, since I rarely got more than about five from a pack. But apparently the way to my heart--or in this case, away from it--is through my checking account. After he found a pack hidden under my spare tire, properly screwed to the floor of my trunk and all, my cheapness overtook my stubbornness and I exploded at him. I was definitely overly confrontational about it--but, hey, I had to minimize the fact that I had been lying and try to shift as much blame as possible. He stopped stealing them, but in retrospect, he totally won. I was forced to admit that I wasn't quitting and hadn't even really tried. Of course, we both already knew that, but he made me say it out loud.
As I said before, Colossus is a good man, so most of my bad stories about him have a decent amount of bad behavior on my part. Sure, he was stealing (and being so insanely thorough in his stealing), but I was lying. Feel free to judge me. I've already come to terms with it.
He is also a good guy. A good enough guy that I was totally prepared to marry him and may well have had circumstances been different. He has an ex-wife and a (truly adorable) young son, so he is pretty much tied to Little Rock. After a while of living there, I realized I would simply never be happy if I too were tied there. So, I left. It was the single hardest thing I've ever done and sometimes I wonder about what might have happened. This was truly the relationship that taught me that, contrary to what the Beatles may claim, love is not all you need.
This is a little story about an incident in which he irritated the hell out of me. It's certainly not a candidate for "why my ex should rot in hell" status, but annoying nonetheless.
I am a pack a day smoker. (Sidenote: this is something RGB's Fred and I bonded over--this and Billy Joel. (Additional sidenote: the first time I typed "bonded," I accidentally wrote "boned." Not a Freudian slip, I promise RGB.)) I know, I know--gross, you're killing yourself, trashy, etc. I've heard them all and I'll quit when I finally decide for myself that I want to. I've tried to quit for other people in the past and now realize that its just too hard to do unless you want to quit for yourself.
Well, Colossus HATED that I smoke. Really, truly despised it. I'm sure he could write his own loser-ex post about my smoking. He would harp on me all the time about my smoking--and, in my defense, I did try very hard several times to quit, but just couldn't do it. He said it was nasty (true), unhealthy (true), and made me smell bad (true). It got to the point that in the last few months of our relationship, he refused to kiss me not matter how many times I brushed my teeth, used mouthwash, and showered. Now, I know I'm a smoker, so I'm mostly immune to the smell and rarely ever smell it on me (though I know its there), but can you really still smell it after all that? This is an honest question. I'm not going to be offended if you say yes. Colossus said that it came through my pores even if I showered, etc. (My God, that's really gross, now that its typed out.)
But the fact remained, I am a smoker. So, Colossus decided to switch to more devious tactics.
I always left my cigarettes in the car and never smoked at home if he was there (and never in the house, obviously), because I knew how much it upset him. After a big fight about my smoking, during which I agreed to try to quit again (I lied and made no attempt to quit, just to hide it better), he began stealing my packs of cigarettes out of my car. Because I was supposed to be trying to quit, I did not want to confront him about it and tell him to stop. So, in response, I started hiding them in different places inside the car. Under the seat, inside the piles of ever-present crap in my car, even in the compartment in the trunk for my car jack. But he always found them. I kept buying more and refusing to say anything about it, even though I knew that he obviously knew that I wasn't quitting. I have a massive stubborn streak (I am also stubborn in the fact that I insist upon thinking that my stubbornness is endearing), so confronting him would entail me acknowledging that I was lying--and I wasn't about to do that.
This went on for about two weeks. I was spending an absurd amount of money on cigarettes, since I rarely got more than about five from a pack. But apparently the way to my heart--or in this case, away from it--is through my checking account. After he found a pack hidden under my spare tire, properly screwed to the floor of my trunk and all, my cheapness overtook my stubbornness and I exploded at him. I was definitely overly confrontational about it--but, hey, I had to minimize the fact that I had been lying and try to shift as much blame as possible. He stopped stealing them, but in retrospect, he totally won. I was forced to admit that I wasn't quitting and hadn't even really tried. Of course, we both already knew that, but he made me say it out loud.
As I said before, Colossus is a good man, so most of my bad stories about him have a decent amount of bad behavior on my part. Sure, he was stealing (and being so insanely thorough in his stealing), but I was lying. Feel free to judge me. I've already come to terms with it.
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