Dating rambles

Yesterday SS asked me if I wanted to be his GF. I said yes of course. And now I find myself asking what changes now. After gf/bf status is established, what are the key changes that should take place....

This is my basic list....

1. No flirty text buddies 
2. No flirty instagram
3. No flirty snap
4. No flirty fb
5. etc
6. etc

Flirty seems so innocence, but what starts as boredom can lead to dick picks and titty pics in no time. So its just best to just cut it out from the get go. 

If your not ready to let some of those things go, then your not ready for a relationship. Simple as that. 

Problem is, everyone is looking for PERFECTION.... this ideal image that has been shoved down our throats. And until we get that person, its like we constantly have a radar out for potential mates. 

There is no such thing as perfection. 

Will I Ever Be Good Enough

I know I'm wasting my time with the current guy I'm dating. Well call him SS. I think that's my specialty: finding emotionally unavailable men who only want one thing and have zero intention of actually being with me. 

Here I am...
Giving my all to someone who doesn't want my ALL. They only want a piece. 
I just constantly question everything-
Am I good enough?
Am I thin enough?
Am I pretty enough?

Why am I not good enough?

SS says to me, "Your such a good girl, Tina"
 and in my head, I respond with... Yeah, but not good enough. 

Things tattoo parlors do that suck

These are my personal experiences. If you've never had any of these things happen to you, then high five and also, you're probably a guy.

• Rudeness- As soon as I enter. Especially if I'm fully clothed and they can't see that I already have tattoos, so they just assume, I'm some newb and it's okay to try and scam me. If an artist/staff are rude. Just go to a different shop, in big cities or even medium size ones theres a different shop every 10 miles. Don't commit to the first shop you go to. It's ok to "shop" around.  

• Quote crazy ass prices- All shops have a shop minimum and obviously, you pay for what you get. BUT, there are still those instances, where no Jasper, I'm not paying $120 for a heart. 

• Changes- When you agree on something and ask for it to be changed in a small way or a big way and the artist either says, "No" or acts like its the biggest inconvenience of his life. Sorry, Jasper, I'd rather have the heart a little bigger than a quarter since I'm paying $120. 

• Placement- This kinda goes along with the changes, but this is after you've agreed upon the design/size. Once again, Jasper, I would like my heart to be straight, not crooked. I'm sorry you have to take an extra 2 min to wipe off the stencil and do it again. 

• Creep- Once while getting a rib tattoo, the artist asked me to take off my bra. Why I don't know, you'd have to ask him. Being a nieve 18 yr old, I did it. It got really uncomfortable really fast. Some tattoo artists use their job as a dating/fucking tool. Those guys fucking suck.

• Same page- Be on the same page with your tattoo artist. Speak up, if all you have is $200. Your artist should also communicate any changes in price with you ASAP. Once, I came in to do the 2nd session of a tattoo. After the tattoo was over, he said, "that will be $300" not only did I think that was over priced for some shading, but that wasn't something we discussed prior. Of course, I paid the guy. It left me over drawn in my account and I never went back to him and told anyone who would listen to avoid him.

TIPS:
-SPEAK UP, if you like/dont like it etc. 
-LOOK at their portfolio! 
-ASK about their experience level!

I'm still ALIVE

Hi folks....

It's only been 2 years since I've made a post. But like everything on the internet, once you put it there it's there forever.

I'm going to start a post every Wednesday- once a week and maybe go to twice a week.

Blogging is nice because I'm going to write regardless if someone is reading it or not. Whereas the other social media platforms- there's so much riding on people "liking" your posts. Often, if a post doesn't get any likes within a certain amount of time, I'll just delete it. 

Here on my blog, there's no deleting. No comments, no views, eh who cares. 

So welcome back if anyone is reading. 

xoxo
Xtina

How to survive for almost 3 months in a Foreign County on roughly $700:

1. Be extremely patient. Train times are about the only schedule that won't change. Everything else can change on a dime notice. Learn to relax and go with the flow when things go to shit.

Highway Sign. Barcelona, Spain.

2. Learn the basics of the language. Language was probably my biggest frustration. It took 2 months before I could really speak to people. But even then, as soon as I said, "Hola",  the locals knew I was an American.

3. Find a lover. This is good for many many reasons. Honestly, this could potentially solve all of your problems. Money. Shelter. Food. Language. 

Being Pregnant

Boy or Girl 

That is my current ponder in life. My mom and a lot of family think I'm having a boy. My mom has started to buy me boy baby clothes. Which I appreciate, if I'm having a boy. But right now, I don't know if I'm having a girl or a boy. Which leaves little things, like baby clothes undecided. There's also the way in which I raise them. If my child is a boy, I can teach him respect. I can teach him love. I can teach him that women aren't property. That a woman has a personality that he should always look to first. That looks aren't everything. I can teach him the value of life. That men and women, people of all colors are equal. 

If I have a girl. I can teach her the same things. That a man has a personality that she should always look to first. That looks aren't everything. That men and women, people of all colors are equal. 

 

I've spent 19 yrs teaching my daughter how not to be raped. How long have you spent teaching your son not to rape? -@deannaraybourn

Both will believe it, until school age where a boy pushes a girl. The girl falls, tells the teacher and the teacher says, "Boys will be boys." Explaining how boys express themselves and how she should accept it. At 6 this can happen. Girls are from a early age being taught how to be submissive. How to be quiet and how to accept. Woman are given unrealistic standards which if they aren't met are shunned. Women have the responsibility of not being a virgin, but not being a slut. They are asked, "what did you wear?" after rape. Women are blamed for the origin of sin for goodness sake. 

Men are afraid that women will laugh at them. Women are afraid that men will kill them - Magaret Atwood

Yes, men have difficulties in media. But, I will feel safer about my son coming home late at night. Boys are taught from a young age to be a "Man". Which my definition is probably completely different from the definition of a man's. Mine, wouldn't be based off the amount of sexual partners you've had. It wouldn't take into account the checking book or the make/model of the car. Hopefully I can teach that to my son. Being a man is how you feel. It's inside, something that can't be changed with money, cars, or women. Which brings me to women: women are not something to be owned. Women aren't status symbols. And the media will fight me on this. 

Some of these thoughts originate from the shooting that happened in California. These shootings are just a regular thing now. This one worse than others because of his youtube video. He felt that women were owed to him. He felt like a outcast because he was a virgin and hated the females because of it. He blamed all women and wanted to take them all down. One of his first stops was a sorority house. 

Where did he learn that? 

Media. His parents. 

  

my shows

I just watched this law and order episode where a black guy was pimping out this 16 year old runaway. The cops came and started questioning both of them. The problem is that the girl kept defending the guy. She thought he loved her and she wanted to protect him even though he was clearly taking advantage. The guy knew she wouldn't say anything and said, "I own that bitch."
Only when the girl was presented with a picture of the guy with his baby momma and their two sons did she break. She had to be confronted with reality head on. The detective said, "Oh, you didn't know he had a baby mama."

This story was a reflection of my life. I believed him. And in the end he went back to his baby momma.

OH hey I'm preggo

I'm going to be a single mother. I have to get used to those words.
This is something that I never wanted in life. No one wants to have a baby alone.
Unfortunately, I believed in his honesty and loyalty. I believed everything he told me. That he wanted me to be his wife. That he envisioned a future with me and his other children together.
I believed him when he said he loved me.
Of course, I should have known better. Been wiser. But his words were like sweet honey.

Everything changed when I found out I was with child.
Everything.
His list of transgressions kept growing and growing. I ignored so much because I felt obligated to my baby to try and make it work.  At the end of it all, he was with his son's baby momma and lied about it. I found out and I direct messaged her to tell her I was pregnant and she said, "he said u lyin he right here" The conversation only got worse. He came home only to say, "I told you if you told her I would leave you."
I watched him pack his bags. Soon I received another message from the other mother and she said "he just got here, say he sorry and want to make things work" I didn't respond. Good riddance.

Getting out of an abusive relationship is like waking up from a coma. 

I am left with this growing baby inside me. It's nothing how I imagined, but I know I'm strong enough and brave enough to take care of this baby. I have to be. 

xoxo
Christina

And no, abortion wasn't a choice for me. It's something the father wanted, even pressured me to do. But I knew if I did it, I would regret it for the rest of my life.

FUCKING BABY MOMMAS

The Hustler, the new guy that I'm seeing has 2 kids. A 4 year old girl that he takes care of and has zero drama with her mother. The other baby boy is only 10 months, and with that mom......

We pick his son up and head to a family members. While there I play and care for the young boy. Nothing was asked of me, I just did. I love kids. We went to ci ci's pizza after. Seriously enjoyed ourselves. The Hustler had talked with her throughout the night, making sure it was cool to drop him off. She told him she was with some other nigga (her words) but that her sister was home so, we dropped him off without a second thought.

As I'm driving he tells me that he thinks someone is following me. I don't believe him and stop at a gas station. The car turns in with their lights out and then back out immediately, now I know something is up. We continue driving while said car is still following. H tells me to pull into a random apartment complex. As soon as I pull into a spot not pulling my car all the way into the spot, this bitch, cause now I know who I'm dealing with, hits my car. Just full on, going 15 mph not giving no fucks hits my car. I'm already calling 911 as I'm getting out of the car.

H has friends in the complex, so as she left the scene the first time, he ran to their place to get help. In that 3 min span of time, this bitch comes back around and parks by my car. I walk straight up to her asking bout her insurance and trying to get a copy of her tag. She stands in front of her tag and won't let me look at it. I kindly ask her to move the fuck outta the way, and then she pushes me and we scrap a bit. Mostly it was her pulling my hair and me saying, "Please stop. Why are you doing this?"  NOW, let me say this, as someone explained it to me: You ain't got no marks on ur face, no busted lip, no bruises, your head might be a little sore but that bitch was not from the streets, cause if she was you wouldn't be walking, in fact she'd be showing up at your place trying to finish it. So no, you didn't get your ass whooped no how.  Of course once she stops she drives off AGAIN. H comes running up at this point with me screaming, I JUST FOUGHT THAT BITCH!!!! SHE ATTACKED ME!!!!

At some point in the fight, I lost my phone. I'm looking all over for it and find it several feet from where we were, silver lining it was undamaged. As I'm redialing 911, this bitch going to come back round the block like now she's ready to park for real. I'm ready this time tho, cause I'm yelling all sorts of shit. All facts tho, like you a ratchet piece of shit, seriously, look at your life right now, bitch. Something along those lines. An older Asian lady had come downstairs during the whole thing and was holding me back while H held her back. Anddddd then the cops show. I run straight into the cops arms looking for protection and she played her role perfectly as well. Yelling bout I DIDNT DO ANYTHING. blah blah blah.

In the end, I'm filing an a couple charges and NOT TRUSTING NO BITCH. 

Women need to learn how to move on, there is a reason he isn't with you. And fighting and yelling, is that really going to bring him back? I don't have kids so I can't speak on that connection, but H and myself included have done nothing but love that little boy. I think that's what gets me the most. That and this hoe talking bout, "WILL U STILL TAKE CARE OF UR BBY" after it happened.

Lord help me. I once again, can not make this shit up.

Jean Pockets

A poem begins with a lump in the throat.

Really, for me that's my best writing. When I'm sad and full of emotions. The Skin and I broke up. Fuck. We had this whirl-wind love affair. It was beautiful, the way it just happened. Once that haze wore off it was replaced by a bad aura. Our relationship ending, might also have to do with my discovery of a hotel receipt in his back jean pocket when I was doing him a favor by washing his clothes. 

Date: 8/4/2013 Check in: 11:30 p.m. Guests: 2  

Now, I can relay his story of why he needed this room in his home town, or I can just say that I'm no fool. 

 I know I've said it before, and I'm sure I'll say it again, but: FUCK DATING. My standards are too high. My expectations are probably never going to be met. And I'm accepting it. And focusing on me. Getting my life to where I want it to be. 

 I'm going to move to Austin next year. Do what I wanted to do back in 2010 but was too afraid to. I don't know why I was afraid. Shit, after Honduras nothing scares me.