New Year, Same Issues

Most of the time I look forward to the new year and the hope it brings. This year I'm a little bit skeptical the bedroom situation will get better.

I finally went to the OB-Gyne when my period didn't arrive on schedule. Normally, I'm as regular as a calendar so two weeks of delay was too much. No, I'm not pregnant - as I informed one too many nurse and doctor. Even I'm not stupid enough to ask for an appointment without knowing if I was pregnant or not. Besides, it's impossible to get preggy without a sperm donor and that has not been on the menu for several months now (oh, don't get me started).

As it is, it's my PCOS (poly-cystic ovarian syndrome - it's when your eggs don't mature as planned and look like cysts) that's causing the hold-up. And the doctor casually added that the largest of my asymptomatic myomas has grown to the size of a small fist (and that I had two more grape-sized ones) and should be removed through surgery. She added that they don't necessarily affect my fertility since they're outside the uterine wall but just to make my pregnancy a bit more comfortable they should be removed. Oh, she said this nonchalantly, by the way.

So there I was, trying to nod and be as calm as the doctor was while inside I was panicking and thinking frantically "You want to cut me up to remove these things; I'll be forced to give birth through C-section and you want me to be calm?" I swear, if I wasn't so shocked I would've scratched her pretty preggy eyes out.

So I told everything to the H, stressing that there was nothing really wrong with me except the pesky PCOS and the optional myoma surgery. I could solve the PCOS with a round of Clomiphene - which might make the myoma larger. Or shrink the myoma through pills - which might aggravate the PCOS. Grrr. And throughout this exchange, the disinterested hubby (who still hasn't gone to a doctor to check his inability to get that thing up) just nodded his head and said he'll check the coverage with the HMO.

I know it's a guy thing not to admit there's anything wrong with him (err.... no decent sex for five years and there nothing wrong????) but maybe it's time to step back and think about someone else's welfare instead of his stupid pride. I'm the one being asked by the doctor to get cut up (the surgery is a major one). I'm the one being asked all these "when are you going to have a baby" questions and it's taking everything in my power not to yell "I don't know." Well, I've started referring all questions to the H. The next time someone asks me that question again, I am really going to be snarky and bitchy. I have done what I can. And I hate not having control over it.

Boylet Chronicles - Boy, Toy Ban?

I just had to react to these two weird articles:

http://www.sunstar.com.ph/manila/local-news/2011/05/12/lawmaker-wants-distribution-sex-toys-regulated-155178

http://www.sunstar.com.ph/baguio/local-news/2011/10/18/banning-sex-toys-baguio-pushed-185776

While I admit they shouldn't be sold where minors can see them, it's speculation to say they lead to the demoralization of society and an increase in sex crimes. Regulate them if you will but banning them is plain ridiculous. Whether or not those toys exist, sex crimes will happen unless people, especially men, learn to respect women and not objectify them.

Toys can enhance a relationship, weirdly enough. It helps the couple have a sense of adventure and improve their intimacy. When it's sex with a person you trust, using them can definitely improve things in the bedroom. And when things aren't going right in the bedroom, they're the only things that can help you hang on to your sanity. (between the toys and a strong possibility to commit a more serious sin, I'd choose the toys any day. All I need are a fresh set of batteries and I can buzz my stress and frustration away).

So, Mr Counselor-for-a-day and Mr Congressman, please stay the hell away from my bedroom. We do not need a bunch of tight-a$$ed puritans running our lives.

Quiquay's Self Affirmations

Today I claim my life back.

No, I haven't run away. I'm still happily with the H (well, most days. That's another story). When I say I'm claiming my life back, I am going to try bringing back the old Quiquay - driven, motivated and ambitious to the core. I am going to plan my life and my own financial independence. I want that security. I now realize I can't keep expecting H to take us out of the doldrums. He's not going to leave his job when he loves everybody there. I know it's hard to find the camaraderie like they have. But the pay is peanuts and it's never going to be enough to support both of us if we want to have a more secure future. He's always going to sit there helplessly when all the usual avenues have been explored. Despite all his bluster about being the "rebel", the ironic thing is, he's as traditional as they come.

So again, it's got to be me. Unfortunately, I'm past the point where traditional potential employers would put my resume at the top of the pile and hire me. Being out of the corporate world for three years has ruined any chance of getting my old rate and level back, despite all my other accomplishments as a freelancer and micropreneur. I know I won't be hired at the rate and position I want. They will be asking me to start at a lower level if I'm lucky enough or ignore me altogether because I'm overqualified. So there you go. I can't get hired at my old level because I've been gone too long and I can't get hired at a lower level because I'm overqualified. What's a girl to do?

Why not hire herself? If I can't find the opportunities, I'll make them instead. I need to think out of the box. I'll make an honest-to-goodness business plan and a life plan for me. I will figure out to build something with no money, a laptop, internet connection and an idea. I did it five years ago, I can do it again. If the H wants to stick to where he is, that's his life. It's high time I forge my own path. He did say we should be like two plants growing side by side, not too intertwined that we'd choke each other. I used to think like that right after we got married. High time I untangled myself once more. Less stress for both of us. I can't wait for him to decide what to do with his life. I need to find solutions on my own.

(Now if only getting pregnant was that easy. About that issue, the ball is in his court so again, I told him it was his problem to solve and we're running out of time. Well it is. His problem to solve. After beating myself thinking what was wrong with me, the real question should have been, what was wrong with him?)

Boylet Chronicles - Letting Go

The strain of life just weighed me down too much last month that I literally took a breather and hied myself out of town to visit my childhood friends. Because I always took the night trip and for the life of me could not find my way to one of my girl friends' house on my own I asked another friend (the childhood friend ex-boylet) if I could crash at his place for a few hours until our friend could meet up or he could bring me to her place in the morning.

Thankfully he said yes and I got to his place all shivery and sleepy (it was darned cold!) in the wee hours of the morning. Given how things used to be between us it was admittedly not one of my better ideas because we both got nearly undone again. I said nearly, not all the way. There were just too many fellas in bed - him, me and two guilty consciences so we had a truce and finally, officially closed that chapter we never really discussed. And that was that. I'm a very easy girl to talk to.

Unfortunately, he stayed in bed (both of us clothed, by the way) and just about poured his heart out to me about his current and past relationships (me not included - he's always been a friend, not a boyfriend), his issues about his exes and as is the norm with our group, life in general (and that includes other friends and his numerous relatives). At 5 o'clock in the friggin' morning. And to me who has not gone to sleep for almost 24 hours and has not gotten enough sleep in the past 2 weeks. If I didn't love this guy (as a friend, that's all), I would have gladly wrung his neck or just plain ignored him so I could sleep. (Our friend - the girl I was to stay with - actually does that to him - fall asleep at a drop of a hat - and leave him frustrated that he couldn't continue his many stories. (hahaha!) )

But this is me and I sensed that he just wanted a friend to listen to him and help him figure out stuff so I stifled my yawns as I listened to his woes, tried to interpret the scenarios, admired his photos and encouraged him with his endeavors (and just about criticized his budding portfolio as well - hey, I know the trends and he's got a long way to go if he wants to be a professional). As I told our other friend, it was basically show and tell and it amused me as hell - despite being sleepy.

And I realized as I was on the ride home that what I missed from him after these last few years filled with unexpressed and unfulfilled sexual tension was the friendship. I was almost always the only female friend he would tell about the going-ons of his life that the others didn't know about. Hey, I may be loud and opinionated but I make a pretty good sounding board. And somehow, getting closure and letting go from the most unlikely source made me realize I do have it in me to somehow fix my life. And I will. One step at a time.

After getting some sleep and watching the film "Friends With Benefits" of all things, I finally said goodbye to him - the boylet part of the equation, that is (though physically, that has been over such a long time ago). For years we've been trying to avoid scenarios that would end up with us alone even for a few minutes because of what could possibly happen. Maybe this time we could both relax and be like we were before - just two really good friends. Sometimes, in order to be free you just have to let go.

Sorry seems to be the hardest word (cliche as it may seem)

It's another big fight night and as much as I want to understand where the other is coming from, I can't. He says he didn't get to eat dinner because I came home late. He knows I told him I was meeting a friend for coffee and will be home late. I came home an hour later than what I said I would because of the downpour. Maybe it was thoughtless of me to assume he would cope just fine but all I got when I got home was a guy who was mad because I wasn't the obedient wife who came home early when he wanted to. And telling me this was the third time I did it. This coming from a guy who was lecturing a bunch of singletons the other night about giving their partners space and freedom to pursue their own interests and meet other people.

Because I didn't want to make the situation worse, I held my own tongue and refrained from mentioning he left me all hungry just last night because he came home two hours late (and worse, there was no food at the house so he said he was bringing home dinner). I lost count how many times this happened. Oh, and what about the times he left me waiting for nothing because he slept ahead and wasted the month's cycle? Oh, just about every month in the past few years. The last time we did it? Oh, that was last year. The last time I was satisfied? Five effing years ago.

But I held my tongue and just walked away after mumbling my apologies. I didn't want it to get worse. After all, according to him I should be content with my lot. But I'm not. I was never meant, nor had any intentions, to be a meek hausfrau. Sometimes you just have to pick your fights. This is not it.

Boy, but for the first time, I didn't want to say sorry. I'm tired of having to subjugate my needs for his. Unfortunately, love teaches us that some sacrifices have to be made. And once more, it has to be me. I had been thoughtless. But for once, I would love to hear a sincere sorry from his end. Then again, sorry seems to be the hardest word to say.

A (frustrated) Wife's Monologue (part 3)

I'm trying to breathe and stay in control at the moment but all I want to do is scream in frustration and break a lot of dishes (preferably at the hubby's head). After agreeing to have a go at the bedroom, he bails out on me again with another lame excuse (he fell asleep). This is the nth time in 3 1/2 years of marriage. I even had to explain that the ovum only lives 12-24 hours which makes the chances of catching it slim every time he delays. I am so near the breaking point I just want to have that big fight to know what to do next. The last thing I want to have is learned helplessness and that is so against my nature. Where's divine intervention when I need one?

Random Rants 2

How do you tell someone about your painful past when it's something you've long buried in shame? How do you tell your family to stay clear of someone without exposing your "dirty laundry"? In this age of social media, it makes it even more difficult to avoid meeting people from your past you'd rather forget.

The last post had me ranting about the nerve of this cousin who wanted to befriend me in FB. I said "NO FREAKING WAY!" and ignored his request. But when he started commenting on my sisters' pages and pictures, I started to grow alarmed. As long as he's at the other end of the country, I can forget about him. But with cheap flights around these islands, I worry that it's only a matter of time before he tries to contact my pretty sisters in person and they suffer the same fate I did. I hope to God not.

Still, I know I won't be able to avoid it any longer. I need to keep them safe. In a sense it was probably luck I got the short end of the straw because I was strong enough to survive it and have some semblance of normal in my life (if by normal you mean functioning). The few girls I know who have more or less the same experience as I did still find it difficult to form healthy, long-lasting relationships with the opposite sex. Any wonder why we find it hard to trust men? The irony of it is, people look at us like it was our fault. (I was 5 years old, you idiot! My friend was 7. A friend was an adult already but she was wearing her rattiest work clothes with her hair in all directions. Someone tell me if we were out to get them in those states.)

So I will tell my sisters and pray they still love and respect me after saying my piece. (and forgiveness be damned but I hope guys like him rot in hell.)