2003 was an excellent vintage for reisling.
It's days like these that make me miss Ex-Boyfriend J.
Were I still with him (and the space-time continuum could be broken) I could say "Boyfriend, I've had such a long day at work, and my back is so sore." And I can guarantee that he would have been in my apartment giving me a massage as quickly as possible.
Not to knock current Boyfriend, because I don't need, nor want, to be treated like a spoiled princess, but Boyfriend's response to my mention of a long day and sore back is simply that it's my own fault for refusing to go to a chiropractor.
Perhaps because Boyfriend makes enough money to go to whichever specialist he wants to see at the drop of a hat, he cannot properly comprehend why I don't feel like spending the remainder of my medical savings on a trip to some chiropractor who will just tell me to come in twice a week for the rest of my life. Yes, I know my back isn't straight. Yes, I know the strain is probably the cause of my back pain. Yes, I know that I need some kind of treatment.
But, surprise! I don't have that kind of money laying around. I have the kind of money laying around to cover a trip to the doctor and the subsequent prescription that I will probably have to fill.
It's not that I don't appreciate Boyfriend's encouragement to see a specialist to fix whatever ails me today, it's that I'd rather have a cup of tea when my throat is sore, and I'd rather have a little company and a backrub when I've had a bad day and sore back. It slightly bothers me that it doesn't occur to him to ever rub my back, or whatever. And, this isn't really about backrubs, either.
I suppose the real issue is that Boyfriend is pressing the cohabitation issue really hard, and it's getting harder to say no- especially as Roommates seemingly devolve before my eyes daily. He's also started poking the fertility issue a bit- a move that obviously has heavy implications. I've mentioned that I'm nearly positive that I won't get pregnant without plenty of aid from the medical community- and I would rather spend that money acquiring a child who is already breathing and hungry.
I bring it up, because I've dated a few men who are looking to get married and have babies- and so I think it's only fair to mention that I doubt that I could wiggle my way into such a plan. Boyfriend, at first, was very okay with this. He said that he didn't really want to have children, and that he doubted that he even wanted to get married.
I thought I had landed a near-perfect male. He was smart, had a sarcastic wit, enjoyed the Chicago Art and Music scene, was a musician, had a well-paying day job, was not crazy, and only wore one belt at a time. Unfortunately, I ran into a few problems along the way- turns out that those really cute long-haired mysterious musicians are really just shy guys- and his ability to relate to women was....Minimal. Our intimate life left a lot to be desired. And, it turns out, he has jumped ship on me- and now feels that he would be quite content being domestic. Oh, and I met his cat- and really, I hate her so much, all of the other unfortunate qualities seem harmless.
Anyway, valentines day is coming up- and I'm not working that day, or the day after- meaning I'll probably be with him those days, and I can look forward to more cohabitation pressure, uncomfortable amounts of orchestrated cuddling, and probably a glass of that fantastic riesling that he's hoarding for a "special occasion." I hope that riesling is worth it.
I suppose I'll just wait and see how it turns out- I hope he doesn't surprise me with anything that I don't want and can't refuse- like having actually signed the lease to that apartment we both liked. Yes, I thought the place was fantastic. But, no, I don't want to move in with him. And, if he gets the place, my guilt would ride me into the ground...I'd have to move in with him.
...Especially since he's hanging a large chunk of cash over my head that has been designated to buy all new furniture (save a couch- our most recent purchase) and essentially play house.
Were I still with him (and the space-time continuum could be broken) I could say "Boyfriend, I've had such a long day at work, and my back is so sore." And I can guarantee that he would have been in my apartment giving me a massage as quickly as possible.
Not to knock current Boyfriend, because I don't need, nor want, to be treated like a spoiled princess, but Boyfriend's response to my mention of a long day and sore back is simply that it's my own fault for refusing to go to a chiropractor.
Perhaps because Boyfriend makes enough money to go to whichever specialist he wants to see at the drop of a hat, he cannot properly comprehend why I don't feel like spending the remainder of my medical savings on a trip to some chiropractor who will just tell me to come in twice a week for the rest of my life. Yes, I know my back isn't straight. Yes, I know the strain is probably the cause of my back pain. Yes, I know that I need some kind of treatment.
But, surprise! I don't have that kind of money laying around. I have the kind of money laying around to cover a trip to the doctor and the subsequent prescription that I will probably have to fill.
It's not that I don't appreciate Boyfriend's encouragement to see a specialist to fix whatever ails me today, it's that I'd rather have a cup of tea when my throat is sore, and I'd rather have a little company and a backrub when I've had a bad day and sore back. It slightly bothers me that it doesn't occur to him to ever rub my back, or whatever. And, this isn't really about backrubs, either.
I suppose the real issue is that Boyfriend is pressing the cohabitation issue really hard, and it's getting harder to say no- especially as Roommates seemingly devolve before my eyes daily. He's also started poking the fertility issue a bit- a move that obviously has heavy implications. I've mentioned that I'm nearly positive that I won't get pregnant without plenty of aid from the medical community- and I would rather spend that money acquiring a child who is already breathing and hungry.
I bring it up, because I've dated a few men who are looking to get married and have babies- and so I think it's only fair to mention that I doubt that I could wiggle my way into such a plan. Boyfriend, at first, was very okay with this. He said that he didn't really want to have children, and that he doubted that he even wanted to get married.
I thought I had landed a near-perfect male. He was smart, had a sarcastic wit, enjoyed the Chicago Art and Music scene, was a musician, had a well-paying day job, was not crazy, and only wore one belt at a time. Unfortunately, I ran into a few problems along the way- turns out that those really cute long-haired mysterious musicians are really just shy guys- and his ability to relate to women was....Minimal. Our intimate life left a lot to be desired. And, it turns out, he has jumped ship on me- and now feels that he would be quite content being domestic. Oh, and I met his cat- and really, I hate her so much, all of the other unfortunate qualities seem harmless.
Anyway, valentines day is coming up- and I'm not working that day, or the day after- meaning I'll probably be with him those days, and I can look forward to more cohabitation pressure, uncomfortable amounts of orchestrated cuddling, and probably a glass of that fantastic riesling that he's hoarding for a "special occasion." I hope that riesling is worth it.
I suppose I'll just wait and see how it turns out- I hope he doesn't surprise me with anything that I don't want and can't refuse- like having actually signed the lease to that apartment we both liked. Yes, I thought the place was fantastic. But, no, I don't want to move in with him. And, if he gets the place, my guilt would ride me into the ground...I'd have to move in with him.
...Especially since he's hanging a large chunk of cash over my head that has been designated to buy all new furniture (save a couch- our most recent purchase) and essentially play house.
posted by iconoclastical at 12:27 AM
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