The Expat New Yorker Trying to Make It Work in Paradise

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Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek behind doors left slightly ajar. This week, we bring you the Expat New Yorker Trying to Make It Work in Paradise: 29, Queens/Cabo San Lucas, female, straight, on the way out of a relationship.

DAY ONE
11 a.m.: Day off for both of us, had usual morning sex for a good three minutes and realized how badly I need to wash the sheets. White stains on blue fabric = yuck.
12:30 p.m.: Thinking about how the honeymoon is so over. I left Queens nine months ago to follow my skydiving-instructor boyfriend to Mexico. I badly need to move back to New York.

7:30 p.m.: Watched a movie and barely said a word to one another. It’s so cool that I left NYC for this. Really. And it’s cloudy so I can't even go to the beach.
10 p.m.: Apparently I’m going to bed now. And not an orgasm in sight.

DAY TWO
9:30 a.m.: Another day off from my sales job. And it’s fucking raining. In Cabo. I don’t even bother to shower.
1 p.m.: Decide to do laundry and hang the clothes outside in the rain because it’s funny. Go back to bedroom to find boyfriend flirting online with hot friend from a long time ago. I tell him he’s an asshole.
6:15 p.m.: Breaking up comes with the best sex ever. There is nothing wrong with getting myself off while my face is in the pillow and he’s plowing away behind me. My Future Ex-Boyfriend (MFEB) is awesome.

DAY THREE
8:15 a.m.: I join Future Ex-Boyfriend in the shower. I can’t move back to NYC for a few more weeks because of my job, and hand jobs are much easier to give with soap. I feel bad about breaking up, but love how he gets up on his toes before he has an orgasm.
3 p.m.: Kicked ass at work. Making money gets me turned on. I have every intention of humping the MFEB when I get home.
11 p.m.: The satellite dish we had installed last week pays off. Apparently, Skinemax is not only on Friday and Saturday nights. We try to mimic what they are doing on TV and are severely hampered by my complete inflexibility. Will look into yoga.

DAY FOUR
8 a.m.: I truly hate waking up to an alarm clock. But I love waking up to a naked man poking me in the back. Quick and hot, I am rethinking my decision to leave him.
12:30 p.m.: Quiet day at work, but MFEB is actually texting me. I e-mail my sister in Jersey because I know she'll keep me in check and support my coming home.
9 p.m.: I'm watching Skinemax again, by myself. Flicking my own frijole (as the locals call it) and text MFEB that he needs to come upstairs ASAP to join me.
9:12 p.m.: MFEB comes upstairs to tell me he’s going out with his buddies. I asked him if he got my text and he checks his phone. Nope. Nada. Plot revenge against Mexican phone service and cry a little when he goes. Sleep is random and fitful.
4 a.m.: Boyfriend comes home smelling like cheap stripper perfume but swears he didn't get a lap dance. Tempted to smell balls to make sure nobody has been there. But don’t want him to think he’s going to get a blow job, so go to sleep instead.

DAY FIVE
8:30 a.m.: Get up for work and MFEB complains of having a huge headache. And now I smell like the cheap stripper too.
1 p.m.: I am so very bored at work. Entertained by chatting online with my girls in Queens and I’m excited to see them again, even if it is fucking freezing there.
6 p.m.: Bastard is sleeping off stripper hangover. I made a home-cooked meal with roast chicken and will eat by myself.
9:30 p.m.: MFEB finally rises out of bed for some food and I trick him into admitting he did, in fact, get a lap dance last night. My response was, “You have three weeks until I leave. Don’t fuck it up in the meantime.” He is not amused.
12:15 a.m.: Go to bed sad about the distance between us and need to talk and make love with MFEB. It’s the second time I’ve ever cried during sex, and this time is the first time I’ve also had such a strong orgasm come with it. The universe is truly fucked up.

DAY SIX
7:50 a.m.: My eyes are puffy and I look like shit.
4:30 p.m.: Leave work with another sale, wish love was as easy as business. Heading to beach to meet MFEB and friends for beers. How can I miss NYC so much when I live in warm paradise?
3:40 a.m.: Had most fun night ever with MFEB and am happy we can enjoy the next few weeks before I move back home. Am going to give best blow job of my life.

DAY SEVEN
8:25 a.m.: Wake up way late with a hangover and nice feeling from last night’s fun. I think we'll part on a good note, there’s a lot of love. Quick oral sex to start his day right.
1:45 p.m.: Just kicked ass at work again, have the best sales record of the team, feeling fan-effing-tastic about self.
9 p.m.: MFEB calls me a greedy bitch and is pissed that I mentioned the money he will owe for taxes after he put his illegal-worker-in-America paychecks in my name last summer when he worked in the U.S. Cry.
12:30 a.m.: Still crying. He thinks I should cover the taxes since he’s been supporting me for the last nine months. Am going back to NYC early, with a bill from my ex-boyfriend.

TOTALS: Five acts of intercourse, one while crying; two acts of fellatio; one act of masturbation; one shower hand job; two acts of watching Skinemax; two acts of catching supposedly monogamous boyfriend interacting with other women; three acts of crying over relationship.