A friend to strangers

Granted I cuss quite a bit, but it's more in my head. When I do say something profane outloud I try to soften the blow by saying F-ing Shite or something. So while this may be hypocritical I do have a problem with hearing other people cuss non-stop.

You see I live in a quaint and generally quiet neighborhood downtown. The problem is that sound waves on my street bounce off the old brick walls and constructively interfere into larger waves, so much that a simple conversation 4 stories below is overheard in my apartment as if the people talking are in standing right in front of me.

I did hear a fantastic argument a few months ago between a couple. It actually sounded like LegalSeafoods yelling at me. "Why would you do that? Why would you flirt with another guy right in front of me? I feel like I'm the emotional one in this relationship. What do you want? TELL ME... what do you want?!!!"

Anyways, so I'm sitting in my common room pretending to go over some clinical vignettes when I hear this girl start bitching about booking her plane ticket for the wrong day. She goes back and forth from English to Spanish, dropping F-bombs like it is the word of the day.

I can't help but stop what I'm doing and listen because it feels like she is ranting to me, the good friend willing to listen.

In her rant she managed to resolve her own issue by deciding to call the airlines tomorrow. As much I wanted to tell her the cussing wasn't necessary, I decided to keep my mouth shut... cos I'm a fabulous friend.

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My blogging began in 2001

I have my hotmail account separated into several folders other than the pre-existing inbox, junk and trash. Over the 10+ years that I have had this account, I've added "Purchase Receipts" for my addiction to online shopping. I have the "Relationships" folder which currently holds ONE article pertaining to money. Finally, I have the "Roxy Updates" which has 2 years worth of blog material.

The Roxy Updates folder is actually missing a year of blog material because I was the queen of downloading computer viruses in college and couldn't think to save anything like a responsible human being.

Basically, my junior year of college left me pretty much alone. The majority of my friends went off to Europe to experience studying abroad, and I was stuck at school thanks to an engineering degree with very strict course requirements.

With all the girls gone, all I had was email. I started sending them weekly updates. These updates were no different from my "morning after" stories, but writing them in emails allowed me to save them. When I randomly read some of these emails now-a-days, I'm amused at the men and events I have forgotten... but how important all the stuff from my past have helped shape the person I am today.

Over the next couple of weeks, I will be on lockdown studying for the boards... but I will not be without blog material. So sit back and enjoy selective excerpts from Roxy of the past...

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See Ya Later Sam

"He is the first guy I ever said 'I love you' to just because I loved the sex"- Sam

About 3.5 years ago, Torch and I were browsing craigslist looking for more girls to add to our group of friends. We were still relatively fresh out of college, single and looking to party.

One day we both ran across the same ad. It said something along the lines of "I'm 25, but I still love to party like I'm 18." Torch and I were in the same boat, so we agreed to shoot this chick an email and check her out.

At the end of the week we met up with Sam in Boston. She was hot, outgoing, well into Boston's party scene and looking for exactly what her craigslist post said. We all agreed that we liked each other and that's how our friendship started.

A lot has happened in the last few years, but Sam still remains one of my best friends. Earlier this year Sam had been considering a few jobs here and there. Her resume was a hot ticket, and she was flying around for interviews. About 3 weeks ago, she gets offered a fabulous new and challenging job in NYC... and tells me that she is outta Boston come June 1st.

A lot of my friends have been making major moves in the last year. I'm really happy for all of them, but I know I'm stuck in Boston for another 2 years.

It took me forever to find a group of girls I truly liked. Not to say I haven't loved all of my friends from my past, but I learned the most about myself with and from the girlz.

Last night over food and wine I officially said "see you later" to Sam. I WILL see her later, with trips to NYC and her visits to Boston... but I will miss not seeing her as often as I have over the last 3.5 years.

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I hate summer

I know Boston is so much prettier in the summer. When that first day of warmth hits, people are finally friendly. People finally smile. Everyone comes out from hibernation and basks in the sun.

But here's the reality. Happy faces won't last. Soon the heat waves will kick in and last longer and get hotter. People will be sweating on the train and it might trickle on to you. Body odor worsens. Lethargy sets in. We will all long for cooler days.

I hate summer. I just want to be cold.

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Pita Chips and Dip

I have always loved older men. I think I've said in this quite a few of my posts. Men in their 20s want to make money and fuck as many women as they can. Men in their 30s have realized that money is tough to make and a good women is a dime a dozen. Men in their 40s are probably freshly divorced (or cheating), trying to relive the glory days of their 20s... but this time they have the money to do it.

I tended to have the most fun with late 30s early 40s, and PitaChips fell into that category. He was divorced, hot and rich. He and his ex-wife came up with a health foods idea, and it took off. A millionaire and loving life, he was just the kind of guy I enjoyed dating.

We had a blast. He took me to some of the best restaurants, and we had excellent conversation. I knew he wasn't gonna last, but I still wanted the sex. When the time finally came, it was probably one of the worst sexual experiences I've had.

He didn't live in the city. My place was off limits. We finally decided to get a room at the holiday inn. Whatcha doin, nuttin chillin at the holiday inn.

The room was actually really spectacular, and we started going at it. Clothes come off and we're both dying for the moment... but PitaChips didn't bring a condom. In fact, it hadn't crossed his mind. Stupidly, we were both so caught up in the moment that we had sex anyways. He didn't cum inside me, but of course that is no excuse.

I started falling asleep, but PitaChips woke me up because he didn't want to stay in the hotel. What?? I couldn't help but feel like a hooker.

We both went back to our respective abodes. The next day I emailed PitaChips to thank him for the evening. He didn't respond that day. Kinda unusual since we would chat all day long over email. I didn't hear from him the day after or the day after that.

Two weeks later he emailed to say he was sorry for taking so long to respond, but he freaked out about having unprotected sex. I found this to be incredibly immature, but I replied that I could understand that and I would be happy to go get tested with him. He KNEW he was negative, but he demanded I go get tested.

Not pleased, but still due for my semi-annual screening I went. In the 2 weeks it took to get my results, PitaChips barely spoke to me. Our conversations had dwindled and all spark was gone. When my results came back negative, he immediately heated up the email conversation asking when he could get me naked again. I told him not for a long time.

I ran into PitaChips again about a year later. He still looked hot, and I was over what had happened. I went home with him that night, but surprise surprise he didn't have any condoms but was still willing to have sex. I rolled over and told him I wasn't interested. He dropped me off the next day and we never spoke again.

So last night after 3 years, I run into him at a party. He was still a good-looking guy, but I felt nothing. He chatted me up, telling me about selling his health foods company and now diving in real estate ventures. I told him that I'm really happy for him... and if he ever fixes up a condo in the back bay to let me know because my BOYFRIEND is looking to buy.

The conversation quickly dwindled and PitaChips left with his buddy. Roomate was very proud of me and couldn't believe I finally used the word boyfriend when talking about RedSox. I said he pretty much always has been... but don't tell him.

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Never Been Kissed

About a week ago I asked RedSox to tell me about his first kiss and he adamantly refused. He wouldn't even tell me why he wouldn't tell me. This hurt my feelings. After all this time together jumping over hurdles, why wouldn't he tell me about his first kiss?

I'm happy to share my first kiss. It was very much a movie magic moment. If one discounts the kissing from pre-school to my then-"husband" Jimmy James and one further discounts the kisses I gave JoeyG and RyanB in 4th grade after chasing them around the playground and then tackling them for my touchdown kisses, then one might be surprised that I didn't get my first kiss until I was 18.

During the summer months, all we high-schoolers ever really did was drive up to Hampton Beach to drive around and walk the strip. I went up there one year with my friend Chris and a bunch of her private-school friends. Two girls and 5 guys. We ran around the beach, joked around, overall had a great time. Then Kevin got a little closer to me. He gave me a shoulder massage and suddenly it was just the two of us.

A perfect beach summer night, we decided to go for a walk. The breeze was getting stronger and colder. We stopped to just hug and look at the star-lit ocean. Then he went for it. It was very sweet and wonderful. I didn't immediately fall in love with him, but I loved how perfect the setting was.

Last night while lying in bed with RedSox I started giggling about his friend introducing me as Redsox's girlfriend earlier in the evening. When RedSox asked me what was on my mind, I wouldn't tell him. He got upset, and I told him I would if he told me why he wouldn't tell me about his first kiss the week before.

It turns out RedSox doesn't like to hear my men-stories as much as I love telling them. He knew that his first kiss story would be followed my mine. I have a tendency to do that, and he didn't want to know.

So after he told me this AND his first kiss story, I told him I was laughing about being referred to as his girlfriend. Then I kissed him like never before and went to sleep.

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A Holier Trinity

I haven't had sex in a while... shocking in one sense since I'm usually a raving bitch within 3 days, but not so surprising since I'm super stressed about the boards.

Last night I was well overdue for an orgasm. Although I was tired I had just seen the episode of Sex & the City where Miranda slept with the eye-doctor who was really bad in bed.

All I could think about was how hot I thought the actor was. He might have been the same actor from Love Actually (the best friend in love with the bride, but can't have her).

I'm lying in bed thinking about the actor. mmm... I cum within 15 seconds. I didn't get to finish fantasizing, so I go at it again... BAM... 15 seconds.

This is crazy and very new to me. Twice in less than one minute?

Ok well I'm still not done ravaging my fantasy lover... a little bit more foreplay but I came within 2 minutes.

I might have to change my definition of The Holy Trinity.

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Lecturing Family

I know it's Mother's Day and I should be telling my mom how much I love her and how fabulous she is and how I'd never be the person I am today without her, but today I felt it was more important to thank my mom for all that stuff briefly and let her know how she can be better.

Stay with me... it's not cruel (entirely). It's reality.

This morning I get a phone call from Sister, "Next week when I'm in Greece with Mom and Dad, I'm going to have a talk with them."

hmmm... ooookaaayyy

"I'm going to tell them that they stress me out. They're too dramatic. I can't take their drama anymore. My dating life sucks because of them."

I've always felt badly for my sister. She is an affectionate person, and she has rarely received any affection in return. If I wanted to play with her toys, I would have to play "huggies" where she would grab me tight and hug me. I hated huggies, but I really wanted to play with her toys so I agreed.

Sister spent the first 3 years of her life in India with my grandparents while my parents established their lives and careers here in America. Ever since, she hasn't quite felt connected to them.

She and my dad get along really well. My mom and I get along really well. Cross-overs lead to clashes, but in general it is India vs. America. Now it's becoming adults vs. older adults.

Sister needs our parents' approval. She wants them to be happy for her and her decisions. She is tired that things are their way or the highway. It sucks for both of us that our achievements are expected rather than celebrated, that the guys we date are dollar signs and looks rather than compatible partners in life, that money equals control... and so much more.

I think the main issue has been that Sister and I are COMPLETE opposites in how we handle our parents... and how they handle us.

Me: I don't give a shit about what my parents have to say. I enjoy spending their money without guilt. I'm happy to do what they want when I agree with it. I cut off communication when they piss me off. They are so afraid that I'll run off and cut ties that they will pretty much succumb to all my demands. I play their game to win... and while my feelings have been hurt quite a bit, I know that they are who they are and they don't know how to be anything but themselves.

Sister: She needs their approval. She wants their advice. She tries to pay them back when they offer her money. She does EVERYTHING they tell her to whether she wants to or not. She calls every weekend. My parents know Sister depends on them, and they only leave her alone when she flips out on them.

Well... she has reached her breaking point (finally). Nothing is going to be good enough for them, and that is NOT her problem. She needs to tell them how they have made her feel. She needs to tell them what she is afraid of (they'll disown her if she disobeys, they'll stop loving her). After mom stops crying, she needs to tell them again, and again and again.

Today when I was hanging out with my mom, she brought up issues with the cousins. Apparently my cousin D wants to go to medical school through the military even though his parents will totally pay for his ride. I told my mom that D knows what he is doing. He always has and always will.

This was a perfect segway into Sister and I. I told my mom that she and dad need to trust that they have raised us very well. The decisions we make are ours to make. The advice they give us may be from their experience, but sometimes we need to make our own mistakes... and for the love of all that is holy... every guy we bring home is NOT the guy we are going to marry. She and dad may have been arranged, but Sister and I like to date around... ok I do.

My mom got defensive about the last part until I reminded her about how she cried and suffered from insomnia after she met ex-boyfriend. Check Mate.

Will things change? Unfortunately probably not, so I hope sister can understand that she needs to make better decisions in her life. Choose NOT to let mom and dad's negativity bother her. Choose not to let them stress her out. Know they will not abandon her. In the unlikely event that they do disown her, I won't!!! Half of my inheritance is hers... after I've picked through all the goodies.

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Interracial Dating

"To me, women are like Skittles. I'll eat all colors."- Dark Sarcasm

A woman asked Moxie for advice on internet dating. She was upset because anytime she wrote a post on craigslist seeking a white man, her post would get flagged and removed and men of other races would email her calling her a racist.

I've had this happen to me for the exact same reason. I prefer white men. I like pasty skin. I loooooove blond hair. It's my preference and I should be allowed to say so.

It's saves both me and the men reading my ad a lot of time. I don't have to sand down my pointer finger clicking the delete button, and he doesn't have to worry about courting a woman who is just not that into him.

It has dissapointed me in the past when I've wanted to respond to a craigslist ad and the author specifically requested a race that didn't include brown, but ultimately it is his loss... and actually it's better that I don't get hurt in the end.

I wish it were a perfect world where people are just people and racism doesn't exist, but preferences will always exist. I also prefer my men to have a tight ass, does that make me assist?

Well fine then... I'm an assist.

Regardless of the derriere, I do encourage all people to try dating outside their preferences, especially if you haven't been successful in dating. RedSox may be white, but that's about the only preference of mine that he actually has. I took a chance, and I couldn't be happier.

So why not take a chance on a person from a different race? Admit that you prefer white, but try not to be opposed to other colors. As Dark Sarcasm continued to say, "We're all black when the lights go out, baby!"

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O cum all ye faithful

I can't cum.

Ok that's not true. I can, but not during sex. I have faked for so long. I know it's unfair to the "penis du jour" and doesn't lead to positive results, but for a long time I didn't know what else to do.

RedSox finally asked me if I was really cumming. I told him no.

He asked me if I had ever cum. I told him no.

He wasn't happy, but he didn't get upset with me for lying. He was actually concerned as to why I didn't. He wanted to know if was him, what he could do better, all that kind of stuff.

I told him that it is me. It's my problem. The one and only time I ever had an orgasm with a guy it was somewhat traumatizing. He is going down on me, I get lost in the moment and then BAM I felt an internal explosion. All I could think was that I just had a heart attack and it felt awesome... but it scared the sh!t outta me.

I never knew what an orgasm was. We didn't learn it in sex ed... heck we grazed over it in med school. My girlfriends encouraged me to explore masturbation, but I had never tried that. I didn't know girls did that... only to find out that I'm the only woman in my crew who doesn't.

I knew I had to try, but I didn't know where to begin. I read books. They didn't help. I just couldn't touch myself. I finally found a therapist who helped me out. A few weeks with her, and I gave it shot.

Damn that bullet could buzz (still does). Even low vibrate was too much. I put it aside until my next session. Then I tried again. I kept trying until I finally allowed myself to release the glory within.

I still felt scared. I continue to feel scared. I explained to RedSox that I've still got a road block. Sex with him gets better and better, but I push his hands away during foreplay because I just can't let the flood gates open. I don't know why, but eventually I will... I know... I hope.

It was only a year ago that I gave myself my first orgasm. It was a huge hurdle, but I was determined and it happened.

Maybe a year from now I'll let RedSox give me one...

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Flatulence

I've had a helluva week. Stressful to say the least, but I forced myself to take a break last night. I went to the gym and then I went to dinner and a movie with RedSox. We saw Spiderman 3. I really enjoyed the movie, especially the part where Peter smacks MJ and some guy in the audience yells "YEAH!! Give that Bitch what she deserves!"

The entire theater burst out laughing, including myself. I needed a break, and I really started to feel better... happier. This morning though, my body decided it wasn't so happy.

After sleeping in and catching up on Entourage with RedSox, my stomach started to kill. It wasn't stabbing pains. It was gas.

I am not comfortable farting in front of anyone except my roomate, and even then I'll try to excuse myself and pretend to get something from my room. So that is what I tried to do while sitting on the couch with RedSox. I got up to pace around, maybe pause for a second in the kitchen or someplace... but the second I stood up, RedSox hit the pause button.

He hates it when I miss parts of any show or movie, so he'll pause everything until I return... but pausing results in silence. I don't like silence, especially if what I'm about to do might not be silent.

So I turned right around and sat back down. He felt confused. I told him my stomach was hurting so I wanted to pace around a bit. His reply was "ok, LET'S pace!"

He followed me to his bedroom, and I was in soooo much pain because I was holding it all in. My body is pleading with me to let it rip, but mind is screaming "NO FARTING in front of others!!"

I finally told RedSox I think I might have gas and he offered to leave the room so I could fart. And that's when my body decided to relax and wait it out... even my own GI tract felt embarrassed for me.

We went back to watch Entourage and I took the other couch with a blanket in tow... and after a few minutes by myself under the blanket I released the anger within. It felt good. It was silent, and I didn't smell anything!

Maybe one day I'll feel comfortable, but I dunno when... if ever. In the meantime, I'll ponder purchasing one of these for any other gassy moments.

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ok now I miiight have cheated

Not really... I didn't do anything. It was just dinner amongst strangers. And No, I did not turn to craigslist for a random date.

Actually last night I took the train to my home town. I watched my dad pick up my mom and then I went one more stop to downtown. As I walked up the hill towards the restaurant, I got a hit of nerves.

There he was walking down the hill to potentially run into me. I was supposed to meet him in March, but my flight to Denver was cancelled. WhiteRapper looked exactly like his MySpace pics... and damn did he look good.

His work brought him to the North East. He emailed me a few weeks back to let me know he was coming, where he was staying, etc. I made plans with him for dinner, but then I never thought anything of it.

Even yesterday I didn't think anything of it. I went into the dinner as I do all dinners... nothing is gonna come of this, so I'm just gonna have a good time.

And we did. Conversation flowed. Our meal was pretty great. After 2.5 hours of chatting away, I finally had to head back into Boston.

I liked WhiteRapper a lot, but there was no spark for me. I called up RedSox on the train ride home. He was at the sox game, so I told him we'd talk later. I ended up going to bed, but I know how I feel and where I stand. I'm with RedSox and that's that.

But is it? As I sit here reflecting on last night's conversation with WhiteRapper, not once did I think to tell him I was dating RedSox. I thought about RedSox during dinner, but I only mentioned him casually as a friend.

It's no wonder then that I woke up to this email from WhiteRapper:
"My VP told me to stick around and check out the city. He approved all the flight changes! I had a good time with ya tonight. You're cool, fun, and you're definitely easy on the eyes. Everything I thought you'd be. I'm looking forward to more chance encounters."

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I miiiight have cheated

Today I had my physical diagnosis final. It involved examining a patient who has a fake complaint. The fake patient evaluated me on my interviewing skills and whether or not I did the correct exam... correctly.

Afterwards I had to write up a patient note. So I went into the second room to do that. I had all the info I was able to get from my patient visit, and I had to organize it into the SOAP format. I've done this several times before.

So I'm sitting there doing my patient note, and when I open up my mini-notebook to get all the notes, out falls my cheat sheet.

Relax, I did NOT make a cheat sheet. Actually the school gave it to us (in English and Spanish). It has everything you have to do in a physical exam... pretty much in the SOAP note format.

We've always been allowed to use them, and I can't make up any information I didn't get from the patient. So I looked at the subjective part, saw that I had asked everything I was supposed to... and I went ahead and finished up my note.

Did I cheat? Maybe I did. I don't know if I'd blog about it otherwise.

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