Mother-eating-bitch-titties.

I've never had flowers bought for me. I've never asked for/been given diamonds and/or expensive jewelry in any form. I've been taken to a NICE assed dinner TWICE EVER, both times by guys I wasn't even dating. 'Cos they're motherfuckin' gentlemen. I don't get manicures or pedicures regularly. My last manicure was actually 8 years ago. The last time I "got my hurr did" was over a year ago. My purse cost $14 & came from Hellmart. I own 4 WHOLE pairs of shoes (I have a few without mates. Go fig.) Most of my wardrobe consists of the items of clothing I wore in between pregnancies that were stretchy. I own ONE pair of jeans (which I despise, 'cos in my excitement over a pair in my size with a $13 price tag, I neglected to note that the legs were tapered. AKA: Your Mom's 1980's jeans. Guess what? I wear 'em anyways.)

...

So to hear from boyfriend that I'm "Materialistic & uppity" was a bit of a shock. Nay, a laugh.

According to boyfriend, I have no family & friends that care enough to call/visit, so since I'm at this point completely dependent on him, I should feel lucky that someone is willing to meet my basic needs.

Now before you start, he has a point. I am dependent. I have no job yet, and few prospects. I have no car, no phone, even no computer of my own. I am lucky to have a place to live, food to eat, clothes to wear & even entertainment.

I am lucky to have the basics.

What I am NOT lucky to have is a relationship in which the bread winner buys himself expensive electronics, new clothes, & high end bath & body products while I get the bare minimum. His theory being that when I "pull my weight" (because I need to pull a paycheck in addition to cooking for/cleaning up after/doing laundry for him & his daughter) that I can then have "the finer things in life".

Look assmonkey...just look.

I'm past caring how materialistic I sound. You have a laptop, a desktop, an Xbox360 & a Zune, not to mention a studio full of instruments & 2 bookshelves full of rare & collectible DVDS. You make WELL over minimum wage. I have jack. And you owe me over $18K what with my much-newer-than-any-vehicle-you've-ever-owned year model HYBRID having been auctioned off due to your $1200 ineptitude.

If you love me the way you say you do, you'll want to do things for me. You'll want me to be happy.

I am not happy with 3-inch roots showing. I am not happy using Prell from the flea market. I am not happy looking like a goddamn hobo. I am not happy when you react to me like I'm fucking Paris Hilton for wanting clothes that fit.

If we were dirt fucking poor, fine. But we're not. All the bills get paid, & even though I have to nag you to fucking death to go shopping, food is in the kitchen (not hominy & beets, btw.)

I am not high maintenance. You are fucking cheap.