...new traditions....

As much as I try, I am far from an emotional person. I have vowed to be a shower crier and I stick by that method 100%. Ask Karen.

Rational and logic are all that usually compute when it comes to my feelings.

I know for a fact that this is a trait my father bestowed upon me.  That is why whenever I feel the slightest bit of emotion, I know how important the subject is to me.

With this being said, it is with a heavy heart that I mention that this is the first year in 10 years that my family will not be holding our annual New Years party. It is unfortunate that I will finally have to come to terms with the fact that my family is now split into two. And not two, like my side and my boyfriend's side... two like with mom or with dad.

Yes, I am 27 and my parents splitting still puts a dent in my life. These last few months of holidays have been one some of the toughest.

Thanksgiving this year was the beginning of me coming to terms, but I sort have lucked out because it was two stops as usual. A stop with my family (which is now basically my dad's side), and a stop at my bf ' s side (which I conveniently included my mom and brother). This made Thanksgiving weird but not too out of control.

Christmas became slightly more complicated because I had to bounce back and forth between families in order to keep everyone sane. The only thing that kept me together was having my last stop be at my house like all the years before. I had almost all the usual guests, my extended family, crowding my mom's kitchen, being loud and obnoxious, eating mom's food, taking shots, and posing for mom's pictures. 

Pretty normal besides the missing family and of course the new baby... but at least I ended the night with laughter and family love like all of my holidays end.

New years eve is the day I can honestly say I have been dreading. I'm going to have to realize that I can fabricate the holidays to come all I want, but the reality of no party on New Years Eve will shed light on the new holiday traditions to come. 

There will be no more party at "Rosie's parents' house."

There will be no themed event.

We won't have our annual Family of 4 photo.

No drinking games and mom's cookies.

No party hats and endless confetti.

No random guests who Clover will try to bite.

No more ringing in the New Year with friends I have been doing it with for a decade.

It is heartbreaking to see the domino effect run its course.  And honestly, there isn't anything rational or logical for me to feel.

I don't mean to sound incredibly emo. I just don't think I have officially accepted the fact that Wednesday won't include my house, my family, and my friends. I know that all this can mean is that I need to step my game up and get a house sooner so that I can just host the party myself... but I am not going to lie when I say it kills me to know that such a beautiful tradition has been destroyed.

I will point out that this is the first year out of 9 that I will be able to kiss my love at midnight... so I guess in the end, all things happen for a reason.

Here's to new traditions and taking the good with the bad.

Because without the bad, you wouldn't be able to define what is good.

... bachata and cigars ...

You know, I hate to admit it, but I think this whole night life tip is officially making me feel old as shit.

It is completely exhausting.

Two years ago I literally lived for it. Up all night, warm nights, cold patron, blurry photos, and black Alcazeltzer from El Salvador the next morning (seriously BEST hangover cure ever).  But Saturday was a slight wake up call. 

**side note, this has nothing to do with being a mom, lol.

For the first time ever,  finding what to wear made my life EXTRA complicated.  What do you wear to clubs now?  I mean I haven't been to a club in over a year.  I feel like the last time I went cray was black Friday 2013....
**side note, this is probably the night I got pregnant because Karen jinxed me.
Leather? Cut outs? Dress or pants?

What is too much versus what is not enough?  The struggle was real guys. It didn't help that Quinn was clinging to me like she knew I was leaving the entire time. Luckily I found a cute little black dress, which as every girl knows, you can never go wrong with. After finally getting dressed, and throwing make up on, I felt pretty enough. That's what's most important. 

The night probably started around 10pm. I kid you not, at midnight, my yawns were out of control.  And NO, it was not just me. I was getting my drank on, dancing my ass off, and laughing hysterically with my drunk friends..... yet I could not wait to take my heels off, take my bra off, and bury my face in my pillow. 

I mean I don't want to not go out anymore. I just don't comprehend how I used to live that night life three nights a week.... how am I alive? How do I still have a fuckin liver?
Most importantly.....
How do I get back to powering through?  

I mean I figure that if it isn't Vegas, I don't need to push the limit.
So cheers to Vegas 2015, the one weekend where yawning and tired doesn't exist.

... a comeback in word vomit form ....

"All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king."

After yet another year, I am back.

Back in action. Back for good. Back because I need it.

And this time I want to make my writing a priority.  It never was a burden,  but I found that in the last two years, I often was worried that what I had to say might not be interesting enough... I finally came to the conclusion, that honestly, it doesn't matter.

Whether I'm interesting to you or not, I figure I will be flattered even if you decide to read this on the toilet.

Annoyingly,  my writing took a toll with school, and work, and real life being extra..... not boring.... just... extra real.  I guess 25 turned into the year I had to be more classy, prioritize, think long term, and actually think about building my life for the long run verses the meantime. And 26.... 26 was the year I got pregnant. I guess all around that last two years I wasted valuable blogging time thinking I was establishing priorities, when instead, I ended up creating a bigger priority than myself!

I'm so happy. 

Content. 

Blessed.

I must admit I am super unconventional as a mom, but hey, makes for an interesting outcome. I see it every time I laugh at my mom skills. Every time I'm lost in a mom task. Even when that stick gave me 2 lines. I knew it because after a whole 5 minutes of being pregnant,  I selfishly despised it lol. No, I am not ashamed. Growing humans is rough shit,  and at least when they arrive you have help.  It has its cute moments, like movements....But it has its horribly ugly moments way more ... and seriously, 40 weeks is no fuckin joke. Yet, the outcome is as everyone says. 
Priceless. Painless. Beautiful.

My blogs will be open for anything and everything as usual. No, I won't focus on just mom things.  Yes, I am ALL ABOUT  my kid like most moms. But this blog is for me, and as you all know...
I am not all mom. 

Cheers to my readers.
I'm back bitches. 

Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back.

like a champ.

Since society has changed the rules of dating, the game is full of different levels and different rounds.  So how do you know you know who is up in score?  How do you know if that phone call put him/her in the lead , or if that lingering stare effed your score card up?

Especially because the world has turned dating upside down in the last 20 years, woman like to associate themselves with men tendencies.  I have countless friends who act based off of their ego before they even acknowledge their emotions.  You don't believe me?  Most people don't, which is why they are always underestimated.

So what about the rules in a relationship of casual sex?  In a fuck buddy relationship?  Are there even rules?
How do you decipher how you are supposed to act and what rules you are to follow when there isn't just DATING vs not dating relationships anymore? There is so much to consider depending on where you let your cards lay.  It turns into who is going to be the winner at the end. That is what matters most if there is not going to be titles involved. Since you have began a relationship off with faulty promises and unreal guidelines, there is going to be a dead end in that tunnel.  The only thing that will matter for your ego's sake, is who who reaches the wall first and who comes in last.

My friend started a casual sex relationship recently.  Honestly, perfect for her. No one to answer to, yet someone to put her to sleep and relieve some stress whenever she needed it. Their relationship was on the same level, he wanted just as much as she did so there was no need for change. Dream come true for a lot of people these days.  No drama, no fights, no obligations.  Just small talks, sex, and occasionally drunken phone calls.

It wasn't until an unannounced drop in to his house revealed other women variables and changed up the game.  As women, we mentally claim territory and so of course another snatch in my territory would make me question my decisions as well.  Just because the relationship had no ties, doesn't mean anyone wants to be reminded that you may be sharing with strangers.  She decided that she wanted to discuss altering the agreement to a monogamous status.  I know her well enough to know that this was definitely more for egotistical reasons.  
This bitch doesn't have feelings.   

How do you even start that conversation when you are the one who made the rules, the one who actually favors the no strings attached rule? I had tried to help her come up with a million different sly ways to discuss it, but her way, the move she made, took balls. Big man balls.

 A midst a midnight rendezvous, laying there butt ass naked and in his bed, she gathered up enough courage to just simply ask him to go through the rules with her in order to make adjustments and get clarification.  When a monogamous relationship was put on the table, he clarified that that was not an option for him because it was not something he wanted.

Like a champ, she agreed....  As she laid there ... naked....in his bed.... She then proceeded with their night activities, got dressed with him, and let him take her home.  
There was no scene, no cruel thoughts, no mixed emotions, and no regret of bringing up what she needed to say.

All that was there was clarity.
She just touched the wall at the dead end before him.

the boycott is over.... let me reintroduce myself...

Truth is, I was on a hiatus. 

Rosie, the wild, no sleep getting, weekend partying, super liver having, same make up from last night wearing, high heels all day everyday wearing, Rosie.  

She had to take a leave of absence. Retire. Hang up those heels.

Honestly, it was PROBABLY to recuperate and rebuild for goodness sake.

So I boycotted my blog.

I didn't want to lose the her that I was.

I knew that she was the me I liked, the me I related to, the me that... was ME. 
The voice of my bubble.

But that old me had partied herself out, she had run herself down, and she had honestly and completely lost her energy and her writing inspirations. 26 will definitely be the year I can say I had a lifestyle change.  It brought me to a certain serene state in life where I had to figure out which path I was going to hop on, which parts of me I was going to take, and which parts I was going to retire.

So, I retired Patron 3 nights a week, and Drais, and Hollywood nights, and not sleeping in my own bed, and partying on weekdays, and a whole lot of other things that trust me, I was way sad about.  Yet, I know I could not handle all of that  anymore.  All parts of me, body, mind, and soul, had been completely over worked.  My body was exhausted.  My mind was too worn to function.  And my soul was elated as always, but over it.  

Sure, when the Hamptons come into town, when I am in Seattle or Chicago, when its someones birthday, when RICK ROZAY sends me a car to go function, or when any special occasion arises, I will find my wings again for a short period of time.  But, I like that I can be happy with wine nights and book club, classy nights, home by 1am nights, and a lot of family time. I love where I am at right now. I would take my girls, good reads, my bf, and netflix ANY DAY over blurred nights and blistered feet.

Does that make me a different person?

YES

Does it mean I am not the same Rosie?

NO

Just means I'm gonna keep it classy....

ooOOOohHhh she RATCHET....

RATCHET.

First of all this is a tool people.  The real life definition refers to a tool.

But for some odd reason, we have invented a new definition of this word and it has become the newest way to describe the skankiest, sluttiest, loud, ghetto girl you know.  My friend asked me to define the word for him in my own terms, and those words were as close to a definition as I could get... So I went to Urban Dictionary to retrieve the proper, and most correct definition.  Read as follows:

A diva, mostly from urban cities and ghettos, that has reason to believe she is every mans eye candy. Unfortunately, she's wrong. Typical signs to beware of include, but are not limited to: -owning a Blackberry -BLARES anything by Drake, 2Chainz, Nicki Minaj, Gucci Mane, Waka Flocka, Lil Wayne, T-Pain, Cali Swag District, or any other garbage entertainment rapper -rowdily quotes "lyrics" from aforementioned artists -has a weave reminiscent of a bird's nest after a tempest hit the tree it was in, and is dyed at least thrice -wears torn leggings/stalkings (mostly of the fishnet variety), unpolished 8" heels (or higher, depending on how God-awful they look), fitted jean jackets (to accent the blubber 'round their arms and stomach), and 4 layers of caked on make-up to go clubbing -repeatedly use ludicrous terms such as "YOLO", "swag", "boost", "beaking", "doe", "really", "naw", "actually", "twerk", "coaster", "dagga", etc., to make a valid statement when they speak -have side bangs, despite having incredibly small-ass foreheads to support them -are commonly overweight and are mind-numbingly stupid; a safe assumption to make would be saying they're uneducated (as if they could pass the 4th grade)    Honestly, lol, this is ON POINT.  But diva? Bitch please. Divas are supposed to be full of themselves..... BECAUSE real life divas are drop dead gorgeous, accomplished, and intelligent.  Not any of the above. Doesn't this definition make you re evaluate some of the girls you know or see around?   It forces you to associate clothing choices and attitudes with certain images.   Now I need everyone to understand, Ratchetness is not something to be proud of.  I repeat, DO NOT parade around claiming "you are a Ratchet," you want to "go out and GET RATCHET," or that you "want to find a RATCHET outfit."  It is not cute, and actually you should probably be embarrassed. Here are the only times I think it is deemed semi acceptable: -When you call it out on your outfit choice or a friend's.... and then you make sure there is an outfit adjustment - When you are trying to show people a "Ratchet tendency" and how it could have been saved from that classification - When you are willing to admit it is ratchet, but you think you might be able to play it off classy rather than trashy And that last option is very difficult and ALMOST impossible. HAhaha, I should know. I sometimes have an urge to be too creative... and sometimes I get my nails done in Rachet ways with very Ratchet designs..... No bitches, those are not my nails, lol. And do not get me wrong... it is hilarious, and I can make fun of myself for it, and let my girls talk shit to me for it. But these are ONLY tendencies that I try to revive from that label.  I feel like some of the creativity in the nails HAD potential until a Ratchet went and did it to herself.  Or some of the outfits could have been so cute if they didn't always have so much going on!    This is NOT a trait that can describe me as a person.  EVER.  So please realize, that if you want to be a "diva," the real trait should describe a CLASSY woman who thinks she is BAD, and in fact IS.  A respectable woman, with self confidence, who deserves to be every man's eye candy. You should definitely leave everything else on that list out though..... because seriously, NONE of the list is classy at all, and  all the ratchness going around is starting to make us women look horrific.  And it makes me straight out uncomfortable. And all I can think in my head is "OooOoHhh she Ratchet!" so bitches, don't kill my vibe. Get it? Got it? Good. ooHhhoo they RATCHET...

Leaving on a jet plane....

Don't know when she'll be back again...

Realization is setting in. My Karen is gone in 2 days. That bitch is really up an leaving us!!

Crying has happened.... Angry thoughts as well.... Yet, I'm still feeling too happy to function. I guess maybe I just don't realize that one of my best friends is moving to Chi-town just yet. I think Friday is that day.... also perhaps it doesn't seem so drastic because Addison has proven to be an amazing example of a healthy long distance best friendship. And it probably hasn't made me cry horribly because I know I'm going to spend all of my money going to Chicago. 

My double life from LA to Seattle has just turned into a 3 some with Chicago.

I can dig it...

As a matter of fact I'm looking forward to it...

It's just that with the good thoughts and optimistic thoughts, I still have to realize that Karen "the accent" Betancur is going to be missing from our usual activities.

No more forcing her to go out....

No more driving down the block to her house....

No more hearing her constantly talk to her "mamita" ...

No more punching her in the vagina....

No more counting on her to help me beat up the ratchets....

Most importantly, no more Karen to keep us in line when we are all out and about!! 

Now I know these are total Debbie Downer statements and realizations, BUT I do comprehend the positives of her leaving too...

Chicago is a big, new, and exciting city.  New places, new food, new people, new hot guys for her to look at.  I mean, this bitch already has an apartment downtown, and a full time job that not only pays extremely well, but is a job doing something she loves.  If she did not go, or tried to bitch out,  I would basically tell her how she has officially failed at life itself.

The move is inevitable, necessary, and pretty much complete.  There's no turning back now.

As she was realizing how real the move was, this skitch (did I say it right?) was all worried about putting her life into 6 boxes.... and I'm such a horrible friend because my initial thought was along the lines of "NO BITCH, how are you going to fit US into 6 boxes? ME?  How are you going to fit us into that new life up there?  Where do I go??"  I mean come on, how am I supposed to function properly when it costs $280 to come and vent to her face to face or punch her in her girl parts?!? That is a four hour plane ride!  LMFAO.  I knew I could count on Karen to make my life this difficult. I mean usually it's a Teneya thing, but I guess it was a long time coming for Karen to make me suffer.  They say that a big life change is scary, but it is even scarier to regret something....

So I accept it.

I accept that she is moving.... 

I accept that it will cost me $280 to see her ugly face....

I accept that this leaves me with one less vagina to hang out with....

I accept that she has to make new friends for over there.....

I accept that she will find boys who I won't get to interrogate right away....

I accept that it is the best decision she has ever made to date (many more to come)....

I accept that I will need to punch other people in the vagina .....

and most of all, most importantly,

 I accept that she is leaving me....

 I have always known Karen was going to be the one to do all the big life changing, city changing things.  But I guess I never realized how serious a move was because it wasn't actually happening. Honestly I have low key been waiting for her to join the Peace Corp or runaway to France since we graduated college.... so I guess Chicago is not THAT sudden.  She is using her 3 c's.

She is making a choice to take a chance so her life can change, because PROGRESS and GROWTH are impossible without change.

  

SO I think I can officially approve this move. And that's because I approve her growth, I approve her doing grown folk things.  I hate that she will be so far, but I know it won't change us.... Well, except that as of this moment, I will now be punching all bitches in the vagina since hers won't be around. 

I know I can still count on her IMing me during work hours, phone calls, texts, the works.  And if all else fails, what are credit cards for anyways?!?

 I am proud to announce that I am officially a part time Chicago resident as of Saturday.  I have a blow up mattress in Karen's downtown apartment and we accept any visitors as long as you fill up our fridge and buy us drinks when you visit.

My baby Karen may be a new Chi-town resident (who is going to take over the city by the way), but she is an LA girl at heart. 

Plus face it, that bitch can't live without me.