My boyfriend bought me lettuce

It's Friday and I get off work around 2:45pm.  Super stoked because we get to have a super fancy belated Valentine's Day where I get flowers, we get dressed up, he wears a tie *swoon* and we go to a really nice restaurant and maybe drinks afteward.  on the drive home i hit traffic.  no worries, i know today's been a particularly rough day but soon it will all be champagne and candlelight.  i call my boyfriend.  honey im running late theres mad traffic i still have to go home and pick something up.  i had burned him a mix cd and was going to get chocolate covered strawberries and make him a really cute fancy plate to put them on with a vday card.  well what time will u be here? i dunno, how long will it take for me to get there in rush hour traffic.  its already 3:45 and im not even home yet so i doubt ill be there by 4:30. why do you have to go home?  to pick up something.  what are you picking up? something! well i dont see why u cant just come here. because i gotta go home first! well i dont know what u want me to say.  how long will it take for me to get to ur place in rush hour, u drive it all the time.  one hour. thats all i needed to hear.  well then what time will you be here because we have reservations...yes i know. i will get there when i can.  fine well im home ill see u when u get here. fine. *click* i get home and grab my things. no time for a card, no time to pick up strawberries.  so i get the brilliant idea to make some at home.  15 minutes later i have a homemade batch of chocolate covered strawberries and all of my shit together and out the door by 4:30. on my way over i realize there is way more than an hour of traffic.  as im driving and the time is closing in on 5:45 i call my boyfriend.  is there anyway you can push the reservation back til 7:30 or 8.  why are u late?  because theres mad traffic and i didnt leave the house til 4:30.  well what do you want me to do cancel? no i just fucking asking u if u could push back the reservation. well the only other time slot they have is 9. 9 is too late. ok so do u want me to cancel 7? no of course not, i just asked if u could push it back did i say anything about canceling? no. did u call the restaurant? no, 7 and 9 were the only spots they had open when i called on monday. *hand to forehead* well why dont u call now and see if they had a cancellation.  calls back..only open spot is 11.  ok lets just keep 7 and ill just be ugly.  i get to his place at 6:10.  there is no way we're making a 7pm reservation.  im almost in tears.  its been a rough day.  he says u seem frustrated and i wanted this to be a special night for us.  well it aint gonna be so special with u pushing me about going home and why i needed to go home and blah blah blah.  one of my friends from college died that Friday.  we weren't particularly close, but we definitely share some memories.  he was a data analyst in austin, texas.  i wonder if it was his dream as a kid to grow up and be a data analyst.  life is so short sometimes i dont know why i treat everyday like theres going to be a tomorrow.  so many things i wanna do with my life, such little little time to do it in. people keep telling me to slow down, to not rush.  how can i not?  all i see everyday is people dying.  people with a ticking clock and i am the messenger who brings them to the watchman.  he looks at my pictures and tells them when they will die.  some of us are not so lucky and have no warning at all.  im sure my patients were living their lives thinking there will be a next year, a next decade.  im made at my boyfriend.  im mad at myself.  i wanted tonight to be special, i wanted to dress up for him since he said he was jealous last week of how i dressed up for the mansion party but i dont dress up for him.  i tell him its because we dont go anywhere to dress up for. he agrees.  he holds me in his arms as we're sitting on his kitchen floor.  i give him his mixed cd and the strawberries.  biggest, goofiest grin spreads across his face.  he points to the kitchen counter and says he got me flowers.  i looked and laughed. that was enough for me.  no fancy dinners, no expensive shoes, no shmoozy bar.  just a boy and a girl, with a mixed cd, some "flowers" and shitty looking dessert.  perfection.

Sorry

dont ask me why im blogging at 6:40 in the morning.  i really have no excuses other than im at work, all qc has been done, and i have a lot on my mind.  im slowly adapting to the idea that you can love someone without them loving you back.  either that or im withdrawing emotionally from the situation without even realizing it soon and when he does eventually dump me ill probably just be numb and apathetic.  he says he's falling for me, says he's fell.  all the laughs and the shits and giggles are what made our relationship so god damn awesome.  but now the laughs are fewer and fewer and the smiles are matched with sadness behind the eyes.  i want to be that fun girl that is totally worth loving cause she's just soooo cool, but im not. and for that i am sorry.  sorry im not happy all the time.  sorry im not constantly making you laugh.  sorry im so high maintenance and you dont seem to be getting back what you're putting in.  sorry i never get to see you anymore.  sorry that that trip up the coast was probably the most fun we'll have for while.  sorry that shit hit the fan a couple weeks ago.  sorry that this last weekend was a reminder of why you fell for me in the first place.  sorry that those reminders are so rare i hardly recognize them anymore.  sorry that im all work and no play and im always complaining.  sorry that i argued with you about the gps...its a fucking gps.  sorry ive gained weight, i always get fat when im stressed.  sorry i made such a big deal about your ex, i just really dont want to lose you like ive lost many a guy to their respective exes.  sorry i cant be the woman you deserve or do for you everything you do for me.  i know you're trying, i can see it.  you say i should judge you by your actions and not your words.  i wish i could. i wish i didnt put so much emphasis on what people say.  i guess im just too trusting.  believing what people say then trying to overlook the shitty things they do.  but youre different.  you dont say much but you do the sweetest things.  but i am a girl and despite all the beautiful things you do i still get hurt by what you say.  im sorry im not stronger.  sorry i cry so often.  sorry im so much more insecure than you thought.  sorry i couldnt be the anchor in the relationship.  sorry for being so emo right now.  i know im not perfect, i know im not even close.  i know that you're probably the best boyfriend ill ever have.  i know that im probably not the girl of your dreams.  but i love you and i hope you'll give me a chance anyways.  i want to make you happy.  happy as you were when we first met. i want to make you fall in love with me every day for the rest of forever.  but im not perfect and for that i am sorry.

Live ur Life,
Victoria Niles

to love and not be loved

i asked my boyfriend if he loves me. he said it was complicated. i asked him if he loves me. he said no. id say its amazing how u think u know someone but then they do something incredulous. its not amazing. in fact i would even venture to say its quite the opposite of amazing.  its god damn terrible.  i just spent the last 3 months falling head over heels in love with a guy only to find i have actually landed flat on my face. every touch, every smile, every word just sent shivers down my spine.  beginning to feel again, beginning to breathe again, beginning to believe again.  believe in the idea that maybe true love really exists, that maybe there is someone out there that i can have a connection with on a much deeper than physical level.  i was beginning to think that maybe i can love a man rather than tolerate him.  but thats just it. he tolerates me. no, wait..he says he looks for in a girlfriend a girl he can tolerate for long periods of time who isnt a total psycho.  fabulous, so im not a serial killer and im interesting enough to not be discarded.  in fact it was proclaimed that at the time we started dating he was actively searching for a girlfriend because he was lonely and wanted one.  great so im like a dog. i keep him company, i dont really bother him too much when im around, and we play sometimes.  you know i will go ahead and say it, this man gave me my very first O moment. no joke. in fact i would have to say the best sex of my life was after one of our talks.  i cant remember what we talked about exactly (i think it was how i thought i was more invested in the relationship than him and he told me how much he cared about me and how he wanted things to work).  me being young and addicted to disney fell for it right then and there.  i was a goner.  got swept up in the sweet words and the beautiful intertwining of two people in love.  or one person in love and the other person in tolerance.  i felt it.  i felt such a connection on a totally unfathomable level and expressed that through my body.  apparently he felt it too since he claimed it was the best sex he's ever had..or actually the best we've ever had. (its possible he's had better...whatever she's probably a slut).  And now, now when he smiles, when he touches me, when "make love" it isnt fucking love at all.  i feel nothing but sadness knowing that his kisses still give me goosebumps and my kisses give him...kisses. to love and not be loved.  worst feeling ever.  i dont want to be in love.  what have we been doing the last 3 months.  the trip up the coast. disneyland. wicked. countless late nights and random adventures.  talks of visiting ohio and talks of the future.  what future.  its been 3 fucking months and the guy "really cares about me."  i dont want a man who really cares about me..i have enough friends.  i want to be in love with someone who is also in love with me.  i cry.  everyday i fucking cry. i cry at work. i cry in the car. i cry in the shower.  ill just randomly well up for no reason at all other than i feel so heavy and yet empty inside.  like a bright burning fire has just been extinguished and all thats left is the smoke.  im such a bitch now.  even the littlest thing will set me off. how will he love me if im a bitch?  and yet how do i not be a bitch to my lover who doesnt love me?  another one of life's conundrums.  last year the fortune teller said id be married at 26.  i think he should change that to single for life.  i dont want to be with someone i can stand.  i want to be with someone whose love for me is the stuff of legend as i will love him too.  whatever. im over it.  no wonder my relationships dont last longer than 3 months. this is why im better at dating. no emotions, no relationship, no commitment, no pain.  i asked my boyfriend if he loves me. he said its complicated.  i asked my boyfriend if he loves me. he said no.

Live ur Life,
Victoria Niles

ive started crying again. sitting in my car and crying. sometimes i wish i could get away from my own life. take up spear fishing and live in a hut in bora bora. my mom claims ive been under this much pressure before. i think i mustve been superwoman. i called my coworker out today saying that im tired of picking up his slack and doing everyones job. he told my other coworker he wanted to report it to my boss. what a doucher. i feel like my limbs have been tied to 4 horses pulling in opposing directions and im one bee sting away from being in pieces. i guess im just bitching and should woman up. im sure the insomnia will kick in soon. ive cried everyday this week. a couple times at work today i started to tear up and had to consciously focus on my breath to not start balling. i just want someone to wrap their arms around me and say "its ok, we'll get through this. ur amazing and awesome and u can do everything." too much to ask? thought so. ive been told i give the best pep talks. sucks that i also have to give myself one. and people ask why i feel like i hafta do everything. ill tell u why, its because when u say 'if i dont do i im sure someone else will." im the one fixing it.

my mirror

u know we see the world as past mistakes.  each one like a little spot or blemish or stain on our otherwise pristine record. just spent a couple hours today cleaning an apartment. every spot lifted, every fingerprint wiped away, ever dirty dish disappeared.  its almost as if i wasnt even there.  how easy it is to spray some windex on a surface and paper towel away all the mistakes, all the flaws.  there are many things i wish to clean off my record but i cant.  our lives only move in one direction..towards the end.  sure things can mend, heal, or even seem to dissolve all together but a single trigger can bring back floods of emotions and memories once thought long lost.

the other day i picked up a little lion figurine.  it was from my ex.  i found it while searching for contact lenses (which i did not find by the way..bugger).  i looked at this little lion and i felt absolutely nothing.  no anger, no remorse, no regret.  no love, no "what if", no nothing.  it was kind of disappointing.  i thought i would at least be angry seeing as every time i speak his name it still leaves a terrible taste in my mouth.  but no, and so, very anticlimactically, i threw it away.  just like that, just fucking threw it away.  u know my boyfriend keeps things from his past relationships or flings or what not.  i know lots of people that do.  in fact i think i still have the note my very first boyfriend wrote to ask me out on a date when i was 16.  still have the note and cd a good friend of me gave me telling me he loved me when we graduated high school.  i still have random cds from people i used to like or used to like me and everytime the song shows up on my playlist i smile.  never say anything or tell anyone im with that "this is the song that so and so gave me".  i simply smile.  brings me back to a younger time, a more innocent time, a time for love and romance and burned cds and dedicating songs.

like spots on a mirror we cant windex away.  memories, mistakes, opportunities lost, taken.  part of me really would like to just delete it all. start fresh, start new.  but every blunder, every turn, every action and choice ive made has made me who i am today.  so when i look in the mirror i dont see just a reflection of what i look like in that moment, but i see all the spots and scratches and blemishes ive made reflecting back at me.  and i smile.  one day i may throw away all those things and delete all those songs and wipe my mirror clean.  maybe one day ill stop crying about things my mother has told me or things my father didnt do.  maybe one day ill forgive those who have hurt me because ill recognize that they didnt know any better. maybe one day i can start with a clean slate.  maybe thats what love is.  someone coming up to u and saying "here let me clean that for u" and windexes the shit of ur mirror.  maybe he'll say "there, now thats the girl i want to remember because from here forward we will be adding our mistakes and water marks to the mirror.  but it will be our mirror, so we'll share the same spots."

maybe ill never be able to let it go and ill forever be cautious and careful.  what a horrible life that would be. to not ever be able to fully trust someone "just in case" they fuck u over in the end.  but hey, im only human.  if i trust someone with my life why not also my livelihood?  *sigh* i dunno im kind of going through a funk today.  i start work at the new hospitals tomorrow.  we'll see how that goes. i was just thinking where i might on my next birthday..i have a feeling itll be a LONG ASS way from today.

Live ur Life,
Victoria Niles

the world is supposed to end this year right?

Welcome to 2012! Somehow i find myself still alive and celebrating another new year.  honestly im not sure how i do it.  one day at a time? one month at a time? one breath at a time?  i feel over the last few months i have grown as a person, as a woman. finding that delicate balance between work, play, girls, man.  not gonna lie sometimes i like to go back and read earlier blog posts.  i dont know whether im admiring my writing or if i just like to see the pain i went through.  kinda like itching a scar.  u know its healed but sometimes it still irritates u.  i guess all it takes to turn ur life around is a big smile and a carelessness that allows u to throw urself into the world with abandon and naivity.  everything that makes me happy right now i have come by on a total whim.  asking for a job without expecting there to even be one available, kicking my roommate/best friend out and finding a new one within 5 hours, going on a date and waiting 45 minutes simply because i wanted to see the damn Tim Burton exhibit (kindest regards go to my fascination of dark claymation movies).  hell even my mom is talking to me right now!  *sigh* i guess my writing is not nearly as good when im happy. its all light and fluffy and giggly and much less dark and ominous and beautiful. 

i just finished watching a movie about love.  not mushy love between two lovers but the love that forms a connection between friends, sisters, struggle, survival, death.  in ancient china women married for reasons beyond their control.  to men who didnt care about them, their feelings, their well being.  forced since childhood to the restrictions and limits set to them by society, these women seeked refuge within each other against a common enemy..the world.  and in many ways i think we all pine for that partner in crime who we know against all odds will always be on our side.  but its not all rainbows and sunshine.  the film captured the sadness and hopelessness of love.  the loyalty, the betrayal, the sacrifice.  i may have found someone who im almost certainly falling for (as us scorpios do) whom i may or may not love.  difficult to say really, the true test of love is in the pitfalls.  when the going gets tough, the loveless run away.  i would say that i can no longer handle another heartbreak.  that after stanford boy i thought i would never truly love again.  and the truth is, that there were only 2 other people ive ever said "i love u" to after him..surprisingly (or not) both situations were in utter tragedy.  But come to think of it I dont think I was actually in love.  I felt the pain and the suffering and the unquenchable thirst of wanting to be wanted and equated that to love. both boys did not truly love me back and actually both are total losers (not just by my own but by societal standards).  prbly why i was able to get over it so quickly.  conclusion: ladies if after dumping ur man u feel like a ginormously huge weight has been lifted off ur shoulders and u are now free to be happy...it was not love. u are as i was in love with the idea of being in love.  do not confuse this with actual emotion.  i feel like when i do love again (which im sensing will be soon..fml) it will creep up behind me and smack me in the back of head and BAM everything is sunshine and rainbows!  as i described once before many many years ago when i was a young impressionable teenager; being in love is like being in a permanent state of euphoria without the need for drugs and/or other supplements.  rarely will things bother u and when they do the love will be so great that it will be easy to let those things go.  im sure thats how the old people do it.  being pissed off about something their significant other did then remembering all the wonderful things they did followed by forgetting all the trivial matters that seem to cloud our daily judgement.

Goodnight cyberspace..i think im off to bed. im hoping the posts will be much happier from now on but ill throw in a sob story every now and then, just to keep my writing sharp ;)

PS: promise new year's resolutions reflection and proposition will be posted shortly

Live ur Life
Victoria Niles

I was 12

It's late at night, pitch black.  A storm is coming.  It smells like the clouds are about to cry.  A little girl is shivering, huddled underneath the ledge that keeps the garage door dry.  She's small enough to fit in the thin dry patch of concrete on the driveway right by the metal doors.  The walls of metal keeping the cars warm.  The storm grows, the rain falls, and lightening begins to strike.  She can hear the crack of thunder in the distance and see the flash of electricity on the ground, but she doesn't look up. The drops begin to slant as the wind lashes her face with tiny bullets of cold.  It smells like rain, like sadness, like loneliness. It smells like that taste of tears and snot and hatred.  The little girl is soaked, the ledge can no longer protect her.  She tries to break into the car parked on the driveway but can't remember the code.  She is scared, thinking she may die in this storm, in suburbia, in her own driveway.  Calmly she closes her eyes and pictures her father's hands as he unlocks the door for her, as he has done hundreds of times.  With a clap of thunder her eyes open and there is no one to open the door.  Reaching out she lets her fingers do the talking and hits five keys.  The doors unlock.  Climbing inside the back seat and closing the door behind her she locks the car. Wet, cold, unimaginably cold.  Not the kind of cold you can come back from, the kind that chills to the bone.  Cold that turns to night and freezes the soul.  As she curls up on the cloth seats she continues to sob.  She is alone.  Slowly, as the rain pounds on the roof of the car as if to crush her inside, the little girl drifts away into sleep.  A deep relieving slumber.  As the moments pass and she falls deeper she wonders if she'll ever wake up. If she even wants to wake up.  The comforting grasp of death welcomes her in away from the cold, out of the rain, into the eternal world of apathy.  Time passes, an indeterminate amount of time passes.  A knock on the window pulls her out of her dream.  She isn't dead, she is still forced to live this life.  Looking out the window she sees her dad.  It is late, much later than she has ever been up before.  It's like a completely different time, the twilight hours of the night.  He takes her inside the house and up to her room.  She changes into dry pjs and he tucks her into bed.  And like a prince in the night he disappears.   Blankets, so many blankets and yet still shivering.  She stares into the blackness of her eyes and dreams of the sweet release of death.  The sun shines, her mother opens the blinds, and the little girl wakes from the land of freedom to a 104 degree fever and an immediate need to vomit.  Her mother asks her if she knew what she had done wrong. She nods knowing that it will be the quickest way for her to avoid another tirade.  But honestly she doesn't remember why she was punished.  Just the cold and the wet and the loneliness and the charm of deep everlasting slumber.

Life ur Life,
Victoria Niles