Another thing

One time, when Dandette was still living here, The Dandy’s mom was visiting and started trash-talking some of his other family members. Dandette’s met them so she was able to legitimately roll her eyes and empathize and all that. I was just a spectator.

But yeah. The Dandy got on the subject of this one aunt who exasperates him by kind of taking a few running jumps at her sentences before managing to get momentum; she’ll start to say a thing, then back up to the beginning and start again.

“But…you know you do that, too, right?” I asked The Dandy.

Everyone fell silent. The Dandy’s mom was unreadable. Dandette was smirking, so I think she was having an “OMG someone finally told him” moment. The Dandy did his silent and belligerent thing and then changed the subject.

He does do it, though. He’ll be like “So today I was – so today I was making dinner and I went, I stepped out of the kitchen for a second, and when I came back I – while I was gone, while I was gone Bastardcat jumped on the counter and stole a piece of steak.” That’s actually a somewhat mild fictitious example. Sometimes he’s winding up five or six times at the beginning of a sentence. The weirdest thing to me is how often he really does just rewind to the beginning and repeat the exact same words. Why is he stopping mid-sentence like he needs to revise his words but then just saying the same ones a second (third, fourth) time?

So, just like with Minx (albeit Minx drew everything out in a different way) I’m losing my damn mind waiting for The Dandy to finish a thought, but I don’t really feel like I can tell him he’s driving me nuts because then he’ll probably feel self-conscious every time he talks and the issue will just get worse. And I’m sure there are things I do that drive him nuts, so maybe I’d better not pull at that thread. But gawwwd.

…Y’know, I think when he’s interrupting me he actually does speak straightforwardly and doesn’t stumble and regroup fifty thousand times. I’ll have to pay more attention to know for sure. But his blurtings seem very spontaneous and it makes sense that they’re just falling out of his face without him thinking about them too much. When he’s thinking before speaking, I suspect that’s what gets in his way.

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Another Dandy thing

This one’s not a thing my dad did, just a general annoying-as-fuck thing, and I probably mentioned it before: when The Dandy is enthusiastic about a subject, he’ll interrupt me. Constantly. And it drives me fuckin’ crazy.

One time (during a neutral interlude when he wasn’t speechifying at me) I asked him if he knows he’s interrupting me but just plunges on ahead anyway, or if he genuinely doesn’t notice me repeatedly taking a breath and starting to speak. He gave one of those nothing responses, either rambling a bunch and then afterwards I realized he hadn’t answered my question or else going silent and belligerent, I forget. Actually I think he went silent but smirked, that time. Like he was acknowledging that his behaviour was almost comedically terrible. But anyway he didn’t answer my question.

But yeah. I absolutely hate how he does this. HATE.

Last night, a friend posted a meme on Facebook that talked about how much taxpayer money was spent on that recent royal wedding when, not long ago, an apartment building in the UK burned down because it wasn’t properly fireproofed and the government said there just hadn’t been enough money in the budget for that. (Or something. I don’t really follow this stuff.) I don’t know or really care about the subject, particularly, but two guys on that thread started arguing about it to just ridiculous proportions – they got to the point of slinging childish insults at each other, many of which were disparaging toward women – and the mutual friend who’d posted the meme was a woman. So I trolled these guys a little bit to kinda throw them off their rhythm because I thought they were being douchebags.

So I go into the bedroom to tell The Dandy about this – mostly to brag about the expert way I needled the two arguers, but also to rant about how they were saying shit like “take your Midol because you’re acting crazy.” I even specifically prefaced my story by saying that I don’t care about the “blarrrrgh how dare the royal wedding be so expensive” thing.

The Dandy interrupted me mid-sentence to say “I don’t think the wedding would have been paid for by taxpayers’ money, though. It’s not like the Royal Family gets a salary from the government or anything. They’re tax-exempt, so they get to hold on to the money they already have, but that’s about it.”

Again: I don’t really follow this stuff and I don’t care a lot. But I’m sure I read somewhere that the queen of England does get a salary of sorts. Like, a few million bucks a year. So the complaint from the meme seems pretty valid.

So I said to The Dandy, “Actually, I read – ” but he burst out with more verbiage essentially rehashing what he’d already said. I waited for the next pause and said “Actually – ” and he brought forth another mighty blast of verbal diarrhea that completely drowned me out. I tried to make my point two or three more times but The Dandy kept fucking railroading me and finally I gave him a death glare and just plain left the room. If he’d asked me where I was going, I would have straight-up said “You’re clearly not in this to have an actual conversation; you just want to hear your own voice. And you don’t need me around for that.” But he didn’t say anything. I think he knew exactly why I was leaving. Of course, he didn’t apologize at any point. He acted conciliatory with me later that night – announcing that he was going to bed and telling me, with a faint air of sheepishness, that if I came to bed, too, he’d pet me to sleep. But he never actually addressed what he’d done and said he was sorry. God forbid.

In some ways it’s even worse when he interrupts me and we’re not in a political debate or any sort of passionate conversation. Because, like, the amount I have to fight to be heard doesn’t feel like it justifies whatever stupid casual remark I was trying to say.

The Dandy and I have watched all of The Santa Clarita Diet on Netflix, and enjoyed it. The redheaded chick who plays the daughter on the show is in this other Netflix series, Drama World, that I watched a bunch of by myself one day a few weeks ago while The Dandy was at work. I really like the actress and looked her up on IMDb to see if she might have been in anything else I’ve seen and I just didn’t realize it. I learned that she’s Australian. I’d had no idea – her American accent sounds completely flawless to me. So that’s a neat bit of info!

So The Dandy came home and went on a little tirade about his shitty day at work. I commiserated like you’re supposed to. He seemed to be winding down. Eventually there was a good fifteen seconds of silence. And I went to casually mention “I found out today that the daughter from The Santa Clarita Diet is actually Australian!” but just as I started to talk, The Dandy burst out with more words. I can’t remember if it was more work stuff or random observations or what. I reacted to what he’d said. He was quiet for another 20 seconds or so. Then I tried to say the thing about the actress again and he interrupted me again. And in case I wasn’t clear before, he never ever acknowledges that I’d been speaking. It’s never “AND ANOTHER THING – oh sorry what were you gonna say?” – that would also be annoying, but less so than him just talking right the fuck over me without looking back.

“That chick from The Santa Clarita Diet is Australian!” is not life-or-death info. I’m aware of this. I wasn’t, like, sooooo insistent that he know this piece of trivia that I’d decided that telling it to him was the hill I would die on; if he’d started a whole new thread of conversation I would have let go of the thing about the actress and gotten involved in the new topic. But The Dandy didn’t start a conversation, per se. He would burst out with one discrete statement that required minimal participation from me (“So I’m thinking beef for dinner” type thing) and then he’d fall silent and I’d try to bring up the actress thing by way of small talk and just as I was starting to speak, he’d burst out with yet another discrete statement. And this ended up happening five or six times in a row. And it would feel so stupid to start an argument about this (“FUCKING BLOODY HELL CAN YOU SHUT UP FOR TWO SECONDS SO I CAN TELL YOU THAT THE REDHEAD FROM THE SANTA CLARITA DIET IS AUSTRALIAN JESUS CHRIST”), because the thing I was trying to say was so utterly trivial. But it still sucks to be talked over, y’know? And he’s done it when I was trying to say important stuff, too, so it’s not like I’d only be yelling about not being able to dish out a piece of celebrity trivia. I’d just be yelling about the latest incident of being repeatedly talked over like I wasn’t there. But still.

I decided to give up trying to talk whatsoever, about anything, until it really, truly seemed like the Dandy had blurted every thought out of his head that he possibly could. It would have been nice to have a pleasant conversation with him; I do enjoy his company (usually) and he’d been gone all day. But clearly he was still agitated from his day or whatever and not able to settle in and interact with me like a human. So I gave up.

He actually didn’t say anything else after the last time he’d interrupted me. We sat in silence for five full minutes, probably longer. I turned Netflix back on to watch more Drama World, and the title screen came up with a picture of that redhead, and I thought that since The Dandy seemed all talked out at last, it might finally be safe to say the fucking thing about the actress.

I took a breath, gestured toward the tv, and said “So, the – ”


And I snapped “Oh my goddddddd.”

The Dandy mistook my reaction to mean something else; I can’t remember what he thought. But he was like “What? Did you something something something?”

And I was like “No, I’ve just been trying to tell you this stupid fucking thing about how this actress is actually Australian for the past ten minutes and it’s getting frustrating, is all.”

So hey, I suppose he doesn’t notice that I’ve started talking, otherwise he would have known precisely why I was so irritated.

But yeah. I’d say shit like this happens every two days on average. And it’s just so ridiculous and infuriating and I don’t know what to do about it besides walk away or physically clamp my hand over The Dandy’s mouth until I finish saying whatever I wanted to say.

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Dandy things

I hate my dad but I keep ending up dating people who are like him in some way(s), either because my interactions with my father were my first interactions with a man and therefore became a sort of blueprint, or maybe because humans are infinitely complex and literally everyone has one or two things in common with my dad. I don’t know.

If my dad came home from work and it wasn’t immediately obvious to him where my mom was, he’d walk through the house anxiously calling out to her until he found her. I found that odd and hilarious, like he was perpetually expecting her to have packed up and left him while he was gone (maybe he was in fact expecting this. Certainly he would have deserved it). I’ve even told this story to The Dandy, who agreed that it’s weird. But it turns out he does the same thing.

We have two bathrooms. The one that isn’t connected to The Dandy’s bedroom is the default room for pooping since smells are more easily contained there. The door blocks the hallway when it’s partway open, though. and The Dandy tends to close it when the room isn’t in use. A few times I’ve been in there shitting and lo and behold, The Dandy stands right outside the closed door and says “…Cowgirl?” in this tentative, weird voice. And I’m like “……..yeah….?” not thrilled about being disturbed, and he goes “Oh, okay. I just didn’t know where you were.” Why didn’t he simply figure it out (silently) by process of elimination?* Why does he sound so scared when he’s saying my name? What even is this?

He’s done this a few times when I wasn’t shitting, too – just in a different room than he expected me to be in. Why he got alarmed and went looking for me instead of thinking “Oh, I guess she’s not in the last room I saw her in anymore, because sometimes human beings go into other rooms for stuff” I don’t know.

The Dandy also does this thing where if he’s in the kitchen doing anything and I pop in there even for a second and he has to accommodate my presence in any way, he starts making huffy annoyed sounds. My dad was even worse for this – he once came into the kitchen to get a snack while my mom was cooking us dinner and huffed because she was momentarily in his way – but still. I try not to get in The Dandy’s way when he’s doing kitchen stuff – especially since it’s clear he really wants the space to himself when he’s in there – but I live here too and sometimes I want to get a fucking glass of water while he’s loading the dishwasher and not feel like I’m the most horrible human alive for daring to enter the room, y’know? Plus in my dad’s case, he had a violent and terrifying temper so the huffing was often just the first step on a path leading to him screaming in my face or shoving me into the wall. The Dandy isn’t the bad-temper type but the heavy, annoyed sighing thing puts my whole nervous system on high alert automatically. I talked to The Dandy about his huffing earlier today. I don’t know if he gets it or if anything will change.


*Instead of interrupting MY process of elimination. HEY-O!

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The Dandy and I had sex earlier and afterward I was waxing poetic about how hot it is to push him over the edge into a really good orgasm. Then – not wanting to be presumptuous – I said “that was a good one, right? My instincts here are correct?”

“It was good. Not Best Ever level, but good.”

“Have I ever given you a top-tier orgasm?” I asked.

“Yes,” The Dandy said. Then added: “you’re the only one who has.”

And I melted. 😀

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Let’s also bear in mind that I’m a huge commitment-phobe and I just finally got my bedroom here set up – including buying and assembling some big, hard-to-move pieces of furniture. I definitely live here now, and it would be hard to move somewhere else.

So that’s almost certainly doing a number on my head.


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Moar navel gazing

My reluctance to break off long-term relationships isn’t because I’m afraid of hurting the other person’s feelings, btw.

It’s actually a lot more because I’m afraid they’ll laugh at me. “You’re leaving me because of that stupid, tiny thing?! WTF?!?!?!?” and since I already felt like the issue was possibly kind of stupid and minor-sounding, I’ll feel even stupider. I’ll question my judgment.

Like…the first persistent issue I can remember having with The Bunny was that he didn’t take compliments very well. I’m an effusive person, plus to me admitting desire for someone is a very vulnerable thing, so telling The Bunny I thought he was beautiful and getting sarcasm and deflection in return was a real slap in the face. It was genuinely difficult for me; I tried holding back my effusiveness but that was wildly unnatural for me to a point where it almost hurt. Conversely, saying whatever sweet thing was on my mind usually got me verbally bitch-slapped, so I was at an impasse. But could you even imagine me telling him I was breaking off our relationship – one where we had good sex and we liked each other and everything – because he didn’t respond to compliments the way I wanted him to?

With The Dandy I’d say things are good/pleasant/uneventful eighty percent of the time, but every now and then some stupid bullshit happens due to him not being a good communicator. Or there’s the thing where, after about two years of us dating, he still needs repeated reminding of how I like to be touched (it’s nice that he knows I like to be petted and does it frequently! But it’s a very light touch that really makes my nerve endings sing, and the majority of the time he plunks his hand down and moves it around like he’s polishing a countertop or something and I have to say “lighter” five times before it registers).

There’s legit a lot more good than bad here, I think. Or at least more not-bad than bad, and given that I live here and depend on The Dandy for a chunk of my livelihood, “ehhhh, our relationship is okay” is good enough reason to stay.

It’s just…I can see some potential seeds of badness here. Things that could grow and make me actively unhappy being with him. And I’ve tried to address these things and it hasn’t worked. And I don’t wanna look back on this time, years from now, and wish I’d left.

Last night I asked The Dandy if he would work on being more transparent with me like I need. He made the tiniest possible affirmative noise. Kinda noncommittal-sounding, really. I asked him how he’s gonna work on it and his face got that closed-down look and he just gave me a belligerent shrug.

And his stock excuse for not doing things I’ve told him I want/need (like being transparent with his words) is “It just doesn’t occur to me.” Finally the other day I told him that this is not, in fact, a valid excuse; I’m not just gonna go “Ohhhh, okay! It just doesn’t occur to him to fulfill my needs!” and cheerfully let it go. He has to figure something out to help him remember. Write shit down or something. I dunno. Of course when I said this his face got that closed-down, belligerent expression again.

Oh and I can’t help noticing that one of his big objections to seeing a therapist with me (way back when I first brought it up) was “I don’t have time for that!” but yesterday he announced that he might enroll in a woodworking class to teach him how to make the fancy cutting board he wants. So I guess he can spare an hour or two a week. :/

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Fell down a rabbithole today of reading old blog posts. Good lord, I kept dating The Bunny for waaaaaaay longer than I should have. I’m sitting here reading months’ worth of posts where he was acting like kind of a dick and giving mixed messages and I wasn’t sure if he was even into me anymore and current-me is like “OMG JUST GO ALREADY.”

I felt the same way when I reread posts from the end of my relationship with Minx a while back.

It’s true, I tend to break off a serious relationship only when I know I’m reeeeeally done with it. I always worry that my anxiety is skewing shit and the relationship is not as bad as I think it is and breaking up might be a mistake. I worry that if I still love the guy and there’s a fair bit of good in our relationship, I’ll second-guess the breakup and possibly end up in a shitty limbo of “we’re not back together but let’s hang out all the time and have sex as friends because that’s definitely not gonna go horribly wrong!” or that I’ll be all “let’s date again! Wait no let’s not. Wait yes. No. Yes.” So I wait until I pretty much hate a guy before I’ll let him go.

But that part where I’m waiting to hate him is also a shitty limbo, and trying to make things work when the other person isn’t putting any effort in uses up a whole lot of energy that would be better spent licking my wounds and then seeking out someone more suited to my needs. And if I’m rereading these old posts and thinking “OMG whyyyyy are you putting up with this shit, Past Me?” instead of “wow, I sure was getting upset over nothing” then maybe my perceptions are not actually that skewed after all* and I should trust myself more.

What I’m getting at here is that these old posts show relationships where there are definitely good things but there are also issues – persistent issues that I relentlessly communicate about and try to fix but my partner isn’t holding up their end at all and finally I get tired of doing all the work and give up – and it looks like things with The Dandy could head in that direction. But once again it seems like too early to bail, there are still lots of good things, blah blah blah. So I’m staying, but I’m wondering if, a few years from now, I’ll wish I’d gotten out sooner.


*Or they’re so permanently skewed that it doesn’t matter what the objective truth is; what I think is happening in the relationship is making me anxious and sad and it will never not make me anxious and sad so I oughta cut my losses.


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