The Boyfriend Situation - Continued

I haven't spoken to my mother in months.

I'm sending her flowers via online and a card so that people in my family will stop sticking pins into voodoo dolls with my name on it. I'm not close with my mother anymore, big effing deal. It happens. Sometimes too much shit happens to people and they just don't like each other anymore. Sharing the same DNA shouldn't mean that you are bound to one another. I believe that the definition of family and friends are the people in your life, every day, who give a shit and contribute positively to your well being. Ok all of that was really boring so I'm going to stop now.


Sometimes I don't shower for days at a time. Sometimes I just don't feel like it. I see my boyfriend every other day and on those days, I have to because he's a doctor and he would notice. This morning I did, and now I'm at work, with wet hair because I'm too lazy to blow dry it in the morning. It's a good thing because it reinforces my 'non-model' look at work and keeps the married assholes from leering at me.

My boyfriend is selling his beemer this weekend, in preparation for moving. Every time he talks about it it's like a railway spike slicing right through my chest. I applied for a west coast transfer at my firm a month ago, and haven't heard anything back yet. Fits right in with my horrible luck streak. It's driving me crazy. I feel like I'm going to be 100, and stuck here forever. It depresses the shit out of me.

I bought two lottery tickets today, hopefully I'll win 17 million dollars so I can just quit and pack up my things tomorrow and head back to LA. That is, if reality doesn't set in first.

My boyfriend is extremely perceptive, he notices everything. He can tell the slightest nuance that I am depressed and sad and when that happens he makes comments about it. All night. Until I tell him what is bothering me and quite frankly what am I supposed to say? Oh honey it's nothing, I'm just depressed that when you move to LA in July I won't be able to go with you right away and I am going to be stuck here miserable for all eternity? Not very attractive. Men say, "you can tell me anything" but don't do it. Never reveal your weaknesses to a guy, it lowers your value, I've learned, in the long run.

It's May Now Which Means I Only Have 3 months now

Countdown to July: 3 months

I was supposed to be increasing the balance in preparation for my LA move but it seems to be going in the opposite direction. Lovely. I have a high overhead: hair, nails, tanning, cable, internet, clothes, sushi, booze, gym membership, gas, and airfare suck my income dry every month. It's tough being me, if I skimp on any of these things my whole look goes to shit.

I have this insatiable desire to be somebody, something. It's like a knawing hunger that haunts me. I just can't be satisfied with floating along. I have to be really, really successful. I want prestige and popularity. I want it so badly I am terrified of being lost in mediocrity. It's a curse to never be satisfied.

Also...Boyfriends make you fat.

My boyfriend, the hot doctor, picks me up in his beemer every other day and we have dinners out. He likes big, 'man' style dishes like steaks, bbq, etc. He also likes sushi but he likes the designer rolls that are usually drizzled in spicy mayo or bread crumbs. This kind of eating doesn't agree with my thighs and the result is I have to starve on the days I don't see him. If I attempt to cancel plans he gets paranoid and thinks I'm up to something and comes over anyway, lol.

I love his persistence.

The Boyfriend Situation

I'm dating a doctor. He's the first normal boyfriend I've ever had, finally.

Normal means: acts like an adult and is ok with being a guy's guy, doesn't have control issues, doesn't talk to his mom more than once a month, doesn't stalk me, drinks and enjoys himself, works out, has both male & female friends, and his jeans are not tighter than mine.

If you think my standards for normal are low, you never met the guys I dated before him:

douchebag #1: college jock, cheated on me with a girl who worked at Hooters. Slacker. Peter pan complex. Bros before hoes. The straw: after I took him back for the last time I caught him hitting on my neighbor.

douchebag #2: law student, spoiled Beverly Hills kid with mommie issues. The straw: he had a nasty spending problem that put me in debt and was so controlling and jealous he forced me to quit acting & modeling for 3 years.

douchebag #3: post-doc intellectual. Narcissist, in-the-closet gay. Unpredictable mood swings, no friends, vain beyond belief. Mommie issues. Huge ego but really just a lame-o who wore cardigans. The straw: he wanted to to debate Nietzsche while we were having margs on Cinco de Mayo.

douchebag #4: another PhD, engineer. Rich, spoiled, mommie issues. Addicted to sex, but not in a good way. Too gay, couldn't swim, talked to his mother every day. Basically just a wallet & penis with legs. The straw: the weird sex behavior [he was hard 24/7] wasn't worth the free sushi & Louis Vuitton bags.

It's awesome to be dating a normal guy for once.

My doctor boyfriend wakes up at 6am and goes to the hospital. I watch him put on his scrubs. They're blue, with red ties. It reminds me of General Hospital or something, lol. He looks sexy in his scrubs, like a man who can take charge and knows what to do.

Every morning when I spend the night at his place he walks me to the subway stop and waits for the trolley to come. He actually stands there on the corner, watching me until I leave. I love it.

During the day, he often calls me from the operating room. Yes, the OR. Apparently there's a little office in the back where they can [gasp] use cell phones? The first time he called me I could hear a guy moaning in the background. He was like, "so how's your day?" And I was like my god, go help that guy! Sounds like a torture chamber where you are. He was so casual about it. "Oh, he's fine, just being a baby." Apparently this is what you discover about the hidden world of medicine when you date a doctor.

My girl friends love him. They are all thrilled for me. He's a tall, dark & handsome prince with a heart of gold. I think under UV lights you can see his halo.

The best thing about my normal boyfriend is that he adores me, calls me a princess and treats me like one. Trust me, date a few jerkoffs and you'll never take "nice guys" for granted ever again.

The second chapter to this is about how we're going to stay together because as I said before I have no idea how I'm going to get my ass back to LA so I can continue dating the man of my dreams.

The countdown begins. Doomsday is: July

He is moving in July, to Los Angeles. My old homestead. I need to figure out how I'm going to get there too without winding up bankrupt, unemployed and homeless with brown roots (not sure which is worse, no home or no money to afford a colorist].

I have to figure this out before time runs out.

A Normal Day

I wake up to the alarm on my cell phone.

It's a dancy little waltz tune. Dee-dee-doo-doo-doo.....

I used to like it but now I loathe hearing it because hearing that tune means it's time to get my ass out of bed and go to my day job for 9 mind-numbing hours.

Some mornings I shower. Others I wake up and I'm still wearing my clothes from the day before. No joke. So I take them off and replace them. I swallow two diet cokes while I'm doing this just to keep from falling asleep.

I only do my hair and makeup on days that I have modeling auditions, called "go-sees." If I have nothing scheduled, I show up to work looking like a homeless person.

I work in an office in the Finance industry. This office resembles something you'd see in a Dilbert cartoon. I refer to it as my "Dilbert" job. Throughout the day my activities vary from returning calls, answering emails, working in excel spreadsheets, going to meetings, surfing the net, gossipping, and watching You Tube.

My side career is modeling and acting. During the day I take long lunches to go on go-sees and auditions. Some weeks I have one every day. Other weeks it's nothing. I book 5% of the jobs I audition for. Most of the gigs I book are ones I find myself, instead of waiting for my agent to call.
I hate waiting, for anything. I'm constantly looking for new things to do because if I don't I will go stir crazy and my head will blow up.

After work I get in my 7 year old car and drive home. It's missing two hubcabs and makes funny noises when I drive. That might sound funny to you, but it's paid for so who's laughing now?

I work out several times a week. I belong to a hotel gym & pool, which also has an outdoor sundeck. I'd love it if I was the only member of my gym, then I wouldn't have to worry about kids peeing in the jacuzzi and sweaty old men staring at me on the treadmill.

I don't cook unless it's an "event" like a romantic thing. Too much work. I order sushi 4+ times a week and eat it at home in front of the tv. If I have sake with it I drink the entire bottle and wind up drunk facebooking people so I try not to drink at home. If you tell people you drink at home by yourself they automatically think you have problems.

I see my boyfriend several times a week. He's a doctor. Both of us want to move back to Los Angeles, that's what we had in common when we met. I hope someday soon I can find a way to make that a reality because I have no idea how I'm going to get my ass back to California. It's my top priority at this point but just thinking about it makes me depressed. (sake)

He calls every day, usually during the day or in the evening after work. We have dinner and then screw like a porno movie. If we don't see each other, I watch tv.

I am addicted to Forensics Files and A&E's Intervention. Watching people who are crazier than me makes me feel good about my life. I'll watch these until I fall asleep, until I hear....

Dee Dee Doo Doo....and then the fun starts all over again.

Anything But Normal

Who is Erica Root?

Just a girl trying to make it in the world.

Just a normal girl surrounded by abnormality.

Erica Root is you, me, her, that girl over there.

Just a girl who wants it all

And everything just keeps getting in the way.