GREENDROPPINGS

Hello dear reader.

I’ve been married to my Brazilian lady for over 2 years now. I’m not sick and tired of her. In fact she contributes to our living situation and when I do my part, she can be quite pleasant and kind. She takes care of her appearance (she is nearly always the best looking girl in the room.)

We’ve had some difficulties because she has a penchant for hopping from job to job and not knowing what she really wants in life. This crisis sometimes makes conversation cloying and I end up feeling like an exasperated therapist. At least she does have a job now. She doesn’t love it, but it’s okay for now.

Here’s a Valentines Day pro-tip;

I learned the hard way though, that if you’re in a relationship, and a girl expects flowers and chocolates on valentines day, just get her fucking flowers and chocolate.

It’s too much for her to not get flowers when she was expecting them, and being surrounded by women toting flowers in her workplace… It sucked making her that upset for something as small as a bouquet of flowers. I dropped the ball for the 2nd year in a row. I’ve got to stop doing that.

Flowers would have made her happy. Instead I get to hear about how I “don’t care about the little things” for days on end. Brutal.

But even with that annoying bullshit, being in a relationship with my girl is still overall a plus. Every woman is going to have her defects and you have to decide what you can be cool with, what you can let slide, and what you will stand up against.

Here’s another pro-tip:

Men- you can never win an argument during an argument. It’s always better to say your piece if you need to, hear her, and then eject.

Let cooler heads prevail. As much as you’ll want to freak out that she’s giving you drama for not making the bed or forgetting it’s a special day, you won’t win in a fight. Ever.

Kind of sucks right?

But the reality is that you probably won’t give in in a fight either. Think of the last time you were pissed and started an argument. Did you give in, even if you were mistaken? Probably not until after you cooled down.

Whether you’re married or just dating – drama will rear it’s head. I promise it. Especially if you’re into Latin girls like me. Drama is even more likely in that case.

No matter the case, the sooner you learn to deal with conflict, the better.

I can say that overall, 2 years of marriage has been good. Plenty of drama, but also plenty of very good memories and benefits as well.

Dear reader(s),

I felt like writing a post today. Recently all my Dreamhost WordPress blogs were hacked, including this one, and now we’re back online, so let’s write something to celebrate. (Ditch Dreamhost, by the way. Choose Hostgator instead. Way better customer service, and service overall.)

So, it’s been over 7 months of marriage. I thought I’d let you know what it’s like. What’s good, and what isn’t so good.

I think that being married is can be perfectly described as being in a long-term relationship, but with added responsibility. You now have to worry more about your partner’s well-being, as it’s directly correlated to your own.

In some ways, this is good. Companionship is important. Studies have shown that it keeps people alive longer. It’s good to feel that someone is there for you, will laugh at your lame jokes, will confide in you, feed you, dance with you, give you compliments, etc. It’s nice.

In some ways, it’s bad. Your added responsibility will face the backlash if anything ever goes wrong. I’ve felt the brunt of a bad day many times. I’ve felt resentment that her expectations sometimes seem too lofty for me. I’ve dealt with childish behavior and bursts of untamed anger.

But at the same time, we’re all flawed. She’s dealt with my bullshit too. Sometimes I’m a bit on the lazy side. She’ll come home and I’ll still be in my underwear, or I’ll completely forget something that she told me. It happens all the time. What results is a merry go round of her being pissed with me, and me being upset at her being pissed. Sounds pretty frustrating and dumb right? It is.

Resentment is a dangerous thing though. It kills relationships. Instead of festering in a place of resentment I’ve learned to say what I need to say and remove myself from the heated situation. I don’t always remember to do so, and we definitely have our share of arguments because of it.

But she’s made some big personal strides lately. As an immigrant, it’s tough to find work, friends, etc. She’s working hard at that, and I admire her for it. I know I wouldn’t be peachy and happy in a country where I was away from friends, family, and didn’t speak the language perfectly. Sure I could deal with it short term, knowing I’d always have the chance to go home, but in her case, she’s locked into the idea of being with me here. That can’t be too easy on her.

My friend who married a girl from Costa Rica said the first 18 months are the most difficult. We’ll see how that compares to my experience.

Seeing as the top search terms that reach this blog are “Jeans Handjob”, “Vegas One Night Stand”, and “Thick Mexican Girls”, I already know that the post I’m about to write is going to fall on the ears of the wrong crowd. But that’s okay, because I never wrote this blog with large ambitions.

A while ago, before I went to Vegas, I wrote about the dramatic story I was living with my Brazilian girlfriend who I had lived with in Brazil, and who had been pressuring me as to where our relationship was going. She came back to New York on a 50/50 shot of getting another tourist Visa, and within a week we were back together. It was around this time that I was about half-done with Roosh’ Day Game book, which was very good, and deserves to be written about here, even if it’s about a year too late.

So anyhow – we were back together, but not officially “boyfriend and girlfriend.” There was too much drama still fresh on my mind to leap into that label. Eventually, after a couple months, I did agree that we could be boyfriend and girlfriend. We were seeing eachother every weekend. I would notice good looking women in the street, but I still preferred my girlfriend. I reminisced the thrill of chasing strange tail, but I also realized that the chase has it’s pros and cons, and I was okay with having a woman who I was sexually attracted to who appeared to love me.

Of course, that’s just writing now, in hindsight. At the time, I can recall, it was right after we had a conversation about it, I went out with my friends, had a couple pulls off a joint, and nearly had a panic attack about the situation.

So, as any relationship involving a foreigner goes, there was a time limit involved. Her 6 month expiry date was soon approaching. The US Department of Immigration would toss her ass out with the garbage and not think twice about it. She was more than a little worried about it. She gave me stories of her friends who got married in situations like this so they could stay in the country. She even offered me money to just marry her.

I told her A. I’m not her friends, and B. There’s no way I’m marrying anyone for money.

Tensions continued to rise as her expiry date inched closer, but I tried my best to push it out of the narrative of our relationship, as every time it came up, it would lead to bad feelings. Of course I didn’t want her to get kicked out of the country, and of course I wanted her around, but was I really ready for *gulp* marriage?
To me, marriage was unnecessary. It felt like a holiday created by Hallmark for gift cards and presents and exorbitant wedding costs. No sir, I didn’t like it. Marriage to me seemed like what people do when they’ve had enough. Almost like a white flag. No more complete individuality, no more complete freedom. Instead, a metric shitload of responsibility. Mortgages. Future offspring. Mother in laws. More responsibility. Someone completely depending on you for their happiness. These were scary thoughts.

So… I had to decide… would I let her go?

I talked to many friends, some family, even anonymous people through chat websites. My mind was spinning around the topic. But in reality, no one can give you the right advice or answer. It has to come from within.

We went on vacation in Florida for a week and stayed with my Uncle at his condo. We had a fight one night before bed, about this very topic, and the next day in the morning I had a chat with my Uncle. I told him I didn’t sleep well. I was about to tell him about how she was breaking my balls the night before, but kept it to myself. He told me “This girl is special, she lights up a room. You only come across these kinds of women a couple times in your life.”

Now – I know the audience of this blog (all 7 of you) probably just gagged a little bit. But to me, coming from my uncle,who gauges people for a living, and who I respect, it meant something.

I made the tough decision on that trip. after days on the beach and in the pool, that I was going to keep her around. I was going to marry this Brazilian girl. She was going to be my wife.

I know people say that marriage shouldn’t be a tough decision, it should just feel right. But most people aren’t as neurotic or analytical as I am.

So – it’s been about 4 months since we got married on an unusually warm day in January in New York. We had a small celebration, and ate at a nice restaurant by Southstreet Seaport, where the ships came to New York ages ago.

These 4 months haven’t been a daydream, due to tensions related to immigration filings and other issues that affect any relationship. However, I don’t feel like I made a mistake. I’m happy to have her. She’s different. I like that. I may have to deal with the ‘latin temper’ more than one of my friends who marries their high school sweet heart, but I’m willing to accept the challenge.

It’s silly but one of the most important things to me is that she takes care of herself, and that she laughs at my shitty jokes.

Do I miss nailing strange? Of course. I’m a man. That will never go away. And I have gotten into some arguments of looking a little too long at other asses and titties.

But do I look forward to chilling on Brazilian beaches with an attractive tan skinned woman that loves me and makes me breakfast? (Not to mention other things.) Yes, indeed.

So … what is to become of this blog? Well… I’m not going to be writing about inserting any of my human parts into other women. I don’t think I’ll be writing about married life either. So just wait and see. If you have an idea, write it in the comments.

Things heat up between Cyndy and I. Over the course of the next three months we hang out nearly every weekend, I introduce her to my friends, and we have a lot of intimate evenings (and mornings) in my small new york apartment. She nearly breaks up with me about 2 weeks into it when she tells me I appear to only want her for sex, and that she’s not some whore. I happen to like this girl, her femininity, her sense of humor, and her beautiful coffee-colored body, and I plead my case, ending in some success on the living room couch.

From then on it was smooth sailing for the most part. I’d visit her an hour north of the city, she’d stay with me and leave at 5am to drive back to her job. Compromises and commitments were being made. I liked this girl way more than either of my exes.

As of this writing, I am planning on visiting her in her hometown in Northern Brazil. Apparently it’s a tropical paradise. It’s also so I can escape the dry, cold New York winter. I stand by my plan of ditching the winter every year, whenever possible.

I am going to Brazil for over 2 months. I wanted to stop the daily Skype chats and see her in person. We won’t be hanging out that entire time, but we will be seeing a lot of each other. I have another girl that I hooked up with who lives very near to Cyndy’s hometown, but I won’t be that big of a scumbag and go hook up with her behind Cyndy’s back. It’s not worth the drama, and as much as a scumbag as I sometimes see myself, I actually care about this chick and don’t want to unnecessarily hurt her.

The problem is that deep down I know I want to be single again. Having said that, for now I will enjoy the fruits of Brazil, the sunshine, the warmth, and the company of a girl who loves me.

As much as I enjoy having sex with strange women, or ‘The Hunt’, I also can find value in building somewhat of a relationship. It will be nice to be traveling with a companion who likes getting naked for me.

I’m 27 today. I think the older I get the less I care how old I am. I still look like I’m barely 21, and still feel that way too, other than a slightly more achey body.

I’ve been seeing this Brazilian girl lately, and I had to teach her how to give better dome. She told me she had never slept with someone as quickly as she had with me. (+1 – Ego points)

We almost split-up when she accused me of being lazy and only in it for the sex. I quickly rejected the idea and made her recall the times we spend just pillow talking or dancing at the club. She ended up going down on me, so I’d say that worked.

At this time last year I was in a relationship with a blonde girl who is now texting me again. She probably wants the kosher meat, but I’m not sure when I’m going to be giving it to her. I might keep her waiting until the Brazilian girl goes back in about 6 weeks. We’ll see.

I think I’ll be getting pretty F-ed up tomorrow night. I hope some smatterings of friends come out. New York City is great.

Peace and prosperity.

Edit: I just wanted to add something here, it’s kind of sappy, but I am so fucking grateful for being alive. I don’t care how much bullshit you go through, the money issues, the women troubles, etc. It’s so good to be healthy, to be able to look back at travels and experiences with women with nostalgia, and imagine what the future holds. I hope the future brings success to those who pursue it, and that we find a way to help each other achieve the tangible goals that were once dreams.