Thursday, December 15, 2011

Digital Dating

I come from a land of digital dating.
I am the early 20s dater.

When I was a young tyke running around the playground, my parents were just starting to get these things called mobile phones. Computers popped up in my school, and I was forced for an hour everyday to learn how to use them. By the time I reached junior-high, I no longer called the home phone, because my mom would seldom answer. I called her cell phone, and should I want to talk to my friends, I didn't pick up the phone, I joined the secret elusive world of  America OnLine Instant Messenger, "AIM."

Living in a rural/suburban community for my entire life, walking across the street to see my friends was not an option. One time I did find a bridge across our local canal and attempted to visit Lindsey who lived 4 miles away. I made it halfway into some random cow field before I realized that I had no idea where I was and there was a bull staring me down. I ran home faster than you could say Moo.

When we were younger my friends and I called each other to see about sleep overs and play dates, but AIM offered something different - something exciting.

By the time I got into high school, long gone were the days of calling my friends. In fact, whenever I did call someone my crappy RAZR usually echoed my voice back to me, and it freaked me out. I know what I sound like in my head, but over the phone, god, I think I sound like a seven-year-old child still telling Barbie that she can't be with Kokoum because he didn't wear a shirt and that just isn't proper.

Look at him, he's savage! (Disclosure: I'm Native American)

So like the majority of my friends instead of conversing by phone, we started communicating via AIM, text, and "against-school-rules-pop-up-boxes" which we figured out how to create while sitting in computer class. They looked like little warning boxes. It was the best. 

We were never told that these forms of communication weren't socially acceptable. We were excited by the new-ness of them. We were excited by the "secrecy" of them. Unlike with a phone call, your parents couldn't hear what you were saying on the phone and if they popped into the room to see what you were doing, the magic little X button made sure everything went away. 

As we grew up during high school, texting arrived and before we knew it, we were using texting how we would normally use AIM and racking up $1000s on our parents phone bills, so parents complained to the phone company, and then we got unlimited texting plans. Which to us, were like little unlimited IMs back and forth. 

Why call someone when you can text them, because that's what we were trained to do! It's so much more convenient! I can answer a text hiding out in the girls bathroom or in between classes hidden in my locker. 

This generation took ahold of texting and instant messaging like it was our job. Because for the majority of us they were interchangeable as the same form of instant communication. Major companies realized this and added them onto their services like, Facebook IM, and GChat further integrating digital communication in our daily lives making picking up that phone to call someone practically unnecessary. 

And it doesn't just cut off at employment door. In my line of work we use ichat, skype, gchat, and texting to get information across fast in a way that wont ruin a take on a movie set. Sitting in meetings, my boss can shoot me a gchat to tell me to make a calendar reminder for him or to schedule a lunch and with open table, guess what. I can do it all without ever opening my mouth. 

Digital communication is HUGE. 

So why does everyone kvetch and moan about using digital communication when dating? 

It's a part of our social culture, everyone's social culture. When Facebook opened to the public, people outside of college were crazy intent on joining. People of all ages flocked to facebook like sheep flocking to the second coming of Christ. So it doesn't just have to deal with age barriers. 

I've dated a pretty wide age bracket. I've dated 12 years over me and 1 year younger than me, so I know from experience, however, that this divide of using digital communication as a primary source of interaction while dating/in a relationship with someone has more than a little to do with age. 

I grew up on the computer, but the people just 10 years older than me, didn't. 

Now I can't tell you the exact age bracket that this phenomenon revolves around, but I do know that it affects my brother and I both, as well as my younger cousin, so I'd say it's currently the anyone given a phone by their parents when they were younger (probably 12 thru 27 age bracket) relies on texting as their most popular form of communication, with 27 being a border age that usually flip-flops depending on if they had rural or urban childhoods.

I say this because, in my experience the guys I've dated in their late 20s thru mid 30s age bracket love calling just to hear the sound of my voice, which is nice. 

They enjoy seeing how my day was with an end of the day phone call, which will usually last 1-3 hours and usually involves me saying, "I'm sorry I didn't hear you, can you say that again" at least 20 times, for which I blame my genetically bad ears, my love of loud music, my lack of telephone skills, and the guy's ability to mumble his feelings. If I ever texted them at the end of the day, they'd usually just pick up the phone to call me back. 


My experience with my age bracket is one of epic, marathon texting sessions that can go on for 8+ hours a day, because while we're not on the phone vocally for 1-3 hours, the same amount of information is exchanged, either way. It has been my experience that in dating each party is curious to know more about the other person, so a plethora of questions are asked, whether it happens vocally or textually. 

But this all brings me to my point. 

I've recently read a lot of articles about how you shouldn't text when you're dating. You should just call them up, because texting only leads to mixed communication, due to the inability of texts to convey emotions, which will most likely cause someone's feelings will get hurt.

I disagree. (1) I'm just saying emoticons are popular for a reason. You might not like them. They might seem girly, but they work. (2) Texting is a different form of communication. Eventually you learn that certain things that the person you're texting says should be taken a certain a way. You learn that "UGh, I hate you" doesn't mean that person hates you. It's usually a playful jest. You learn the intricacies of what certain phrases mean, for example this picture. 

But if you start to actually think about how texting has infiltrated the sacred world of dating, you'd realize that this is just the new battle of old school vs. new school. 

 I'm sure that when phones first came about there were a lot of old fashioned women and men who believed that you shouldn't call the woman you were courting, you should call on her like a proper gentleman and sit in the parlor while a chaperone made sure you did nothing untoward. 

And I'm sure there were people who thought that instead of calling them you should write a love letter instead. I'm sure that when the first written word came about people thought that you shouldn't write your Love a love letter because she probably couldn't read it, so you should just go calling on her. 

The evolution of dating happens whether we like it or not. Younger generations will always come up with a new form of communication, which puzzles the older generation. Texting is here to stay; it's not going to just go away because a group of people think that it's messed up to text the person you're dating in the middle of the day to see how they are instead of picking up the phone. 

Because to be honest, as an early 20s dater, I prefer texting to phone calls. 

I would prefer the guy I like text me to see what's going on versus calling me because I can live my life and respond when I have the time instead of dropping everything to have a 1-3 hour phone call with him. 

I like it because I don't have to hear my seven-year-old child voice. I like it because I can text a guy on my bathroom break at work and not have to worry about whether or not he hears the toilet flush (don't lie, you've totally texted someone in a bathroom before).  I like it because I grew up in a world of digital communication which spawned digital socialization. It's how I interact socially with my friends and to be honest, if that's how I talk to my closest friends, then the guy I'm dating should get the same treatment. 

Dating is the experience of learning about another person and figuring out whether or not they're compatible with you. It's a give and take. This war on texting is just a narrow minded view point of people who aren't willing to bend their ways to the desired form of communication of their partners. 

When I date older guys I don't tell them, "Yo I hate when you call me, because I can't understand you, so I feel like a retard asking you to repeat yourself every five minutes." Instead I accept that this is how they date. This is how they interact with the people in their lives, and so I accept that and make it a point to call them when I want to interact with them, usually sending a "hey, you busy? Can I give you a call?" text message before hand, because I don't want to catch them at a bad time. 

But that's just me. Just because you don't prefer the person you're dating's method of communication doesn't mean you should refuse to date them, because they're "inconsiderate" with how they contact you. Maybe it's just that they grew up like I did, in a world of digital socialization. It doesn't mean they're a horrible person, it just a different method of communication in dating. 

And the age lines are not exclusive. One of my closest friends, Sam, prefers calling to texting and she's in my age bracket. A 30-year-old man I dated for 3 months preferred texting to calling. It's all about learning and asking what method of communication that person prefers, because if you don't know then your phone calls could unnerve them and make them feel awkward, which prevents them from being their normal easy going self. 

So my point is that text messaging should be allowed in dating, but it's your responsibility to let the person you're dating know that you would appreciate calling vs. texting or vice versa. Take hold of your dating life. Don't just piss and moan because you think texting is inconsiderate. Do something about it. 

However, text message breakups are still the most cowardly thing a human being can do, right behind telling a robber to shoot your friend instead of you. 

Just saying... 

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Where are all my bad dates?!

A lot of people get into writing dating blogs, because they have a series of really god-awful dates. The stories are amusing. One of their friends say, "hey, you always have the funniest dating stories, you should write a blog!" They come up with a clever name, and then they start writing, which is good because bad dating stories are hilarious.

But as a dating blogger, I feel like I'm missing out on a key part of life because,

I never have...

I've had awkward dates.
I've had mediocre dates.
I've had wonderful dates.

That's all.

The worst date I ever had was with a gentleman from the internet who was really into marathon running, staying healthy, keeping an active life-style, while eating a strict regimen of raw organic food.

He managed to struggle down the pizza we shared, but I knew that the wedding bells were not going to chime on that one.

Because, I really like twilight zone marathons, staying in the kitchen (oh yeah, bring on your jokes), keeping an active social life (*cough* drinking *cough*), while eating whatever cheesy and tomato sauced confection winds up on my plate, including but not limited to enchiladas, chicken parmesan, mozzarella sticks, pizza, pizza bites, mexican pizza, pizza bagels, pizza sandwiches, etc.. My exercise routine is a series of dancing at the bars, in my apartment, in my car, elevators, public bathrooms, etc... I really like dancing.

Even though the wedding bells didn't ring, and he knew it was not meant to be, the very decent and upstanding man paid for the date and walked me to my car, which to me was a very, very sweet thing to do. I thanked him profusely, and we parted ways.

That's it.

That's my "bad" date story.

And it's not like I didn't try to find one, for a while when I first started dating fresh out of college, I didn't turn any one down... but nope. Not a single bad guy in the bunch (aside from Dicky MacDickerson). The guys I date and I are just never really meant for each other.

Now that doesn't mean I haven't had bad make out stories, because those could fill a book...

For example this one time I was making out with this guy and he stopped in the middle of it to ask if he could put on the movie, "Dawn of the Dead," while we were making out. So I said, "uh suuuure." Different strokes for different folks and all that.

Oh wait... scratch that. That was every night for nearly three months of my freshman year of college. Seriously... I dated a guy for three months who really liked making out to "Dawn of the Dead." I've seen the beginning of that movie AT LEAST 90 times (and people wonder why I dont like zombie movies).

And it's not all on the guys either, one time, I was making out with this guy and I had read in one of those Cosmo type magazines that the way to blow a guy's mind was to actually take his breath away in the middle of a kiss.

Well I'm a horribly curious individual, so I wanted to try it. So I'm in the middle of kissing this guy and I do the whole, suck-the-air-out of the guy's mouth thing. Not only did it fail miserably, after attempting it for the better part of five/ten minutes I only succeeded in gagging myself twice, sucking his gum into my mouth, and biting my own tongue.

Disclaimer: I told him what I was trying to do, and he got it on the first try. Rude. 

So what I guess I'm trying to say is, I want to hear your bad dating stories!

Thursday, December 8, 2011

The Bad and the Ugly, OkCupid

Some of my most favorite messages I've received from the OkCupid. These are the messages in their entirety, names may be changed to protect them from embarrassment.

So that some of these make sense, you'll need to know that my profile features a picture of me shooting a gun, talking about my love of semi-colons, and a horrific gumbo making experience where I melted a spoon into the food and then ate it. As for what I ask of the men folk - I want them to look like lumberjacks, not have girlfriends, and since I dislike chasing men they have to chase me. (It's the little things really).

The regular writing is the message, anything in italics is my opinion...

Wow, too cool, but I hate math and stopped reading when it got technical. 

I too like semi-colons (he said not using a semi-colon...)

... Who refers to themselves in third person while trying to impress a girl, she pondered. 

hey,so its really funny that you like austin grill. i know you were one of the many people in Bethesda that was mad that it closed in the area. funny that you go all the way to DC when theres one in Silver Spring. I only tease you about it bc i work at the one in Silver Spring. Also feel like you about the Eagles being a disappointment

Free salsa? Yes? Please? Thank you! 

Just a small time girl living in a lonely world, She took the midnight train to dc and then she found me

This stopped being cute when you got the lyrics wrong. ALSO metro seldom runs past midnight... 

Have to admit, I'm a bit curious about your fascination with men who chop wood. I know the perfect man for you though, he was 10 when I taught him to swing an axe. You'll just have to wait a few years, because it wasn't that long ago :p 

Are you encouraging pedophilia?! 

haha, you ate plastic gumbo. wow. You seem neat. Im neat. We should meet. wow that was corny...!!!

hey i have a question for you I noticed you viewed my page but didnt say anything, can u tell me what turned u off about it if you dont mind, oh and u being able to shoot does make u awesome

Do not send these messages. Just DON'T. 

"if you want me, come get me" Priceless! What's your name? I wouldn't mind chasing you down the rabbit hole.

You make this chasing thing difficult; I don't really send out messages, because I figure they get buried with dozens of others from 46-year-old married men. Of course, I could just be an incredibly handsome 46-year-old man who lies about his age... 
Anyway, you had me at guns and steak. That's refreshing from the average 'I work at so-and-so leftwing nonprofit "saving the world!" and looooove NPR!' ... so, thanks for being from Texas first off. Second, for this lumberjack thing... do I have to start wearing plaid?

You should have started this by attaching a photo of yourself in plaid... bonus points. 

So my friends say I move too fast but I'm going to go on a limb here... will you marry me? Shoot... I meant to say hi :)

This never works... unless I'm drunk. 

Hey There, 

Your gumbo story made me laugh, probably more than it should have. I haven't made gumbo from scratch in awhile but I make a mean shrimp/sausage gumbo. The real question is, do you like Okra or not? 
Anyway, a bit more about me... 
... (This went on for 750 more words... I checked)... 
Hope to hear from you soon, 

An essay? You send me an essay?

Hey, you should take down that picture on your profile.


Sadly, I'm not a lumberjack. BUT! I do own flannel and I've cut down a tree. So...that counts, right? 
One of my close friends is from Texas. And to be honest, I'm a little scared of her. Actually, come to think of it, she's the only girl to have ever punched me. I'm pretty sure I didn't deserve it... 
I hope all is well with you!

I deeply regret to inform you that you are above and beyond our maximum standards in looks. 
You are clearly a 9/10 and here on OkCupid we only allow 6/10 maximum. 
Your account will be CLOSED unless you reply to this message with your name, favorite flower, how many cheetos you can fit in your mouth at once (just curious), and if you prefer Italian or Chinese take out. 
This message should not be taken lightly as it may anger my boss, Poseiden, lord of the seas. 

Points for creativity. However I just had an image of you killing me in my sleep. So no. 

lets see 
can cook gumbo; 
Might pick up a hitchhiker; 
thats okay one extra person to invite to a gumbo dinner party ; 
if it gets out of hand you can point the gun at the hitchhiker and force him to cuddle;
I can tell tall tales too :) and use semicolons!

 You sound like you've got a good mix of modernization and country bumpkin in ya. :P

I like to think so... 

Salutations, on lumberjacks, do you professionals or do you mean just someone whose cut down a tree and chopped it for wood?

Hey I liked your profile and was hoping we could chat. I like that you love pizza. I work for a dominos and can get you all the free pizza you want. Hope that gives me a bonus lol. Hope to hear from you. 

If you had worked at Ledo's we'd already be married. 

I'm 6'3", 240 pounds and I stay in shape by boxing and splitting logs for I can sit by my fireplace during winter and drink..and wonder why I don't have a doberman. I look like a lumberjack. First time a woman's asked for that specifically lol. 

You lost me at doberman. . . 

Hey, what's up? Usually, I run the oppossite direction from DC girls, but since your from BethASSda I guess that's some sort of technicality. Anyway, if you'd like to chat sometime hit me up!

There is not a single picture of my ass in my profile... try again. 

Monday, December 5, 2011

Why I'm Still Single (Part Done)

A month later, Can-Can Boy was back - in full force, flirting and texting late at night, and asking me all about my life, and what I'd been doing with my life, and who I'm hanging out with, and why my best friend defriended him on facebook (cause you're an asshat, dumbshit).

About a week after she defriended him, I sent him a message letting him know I couldn't look at his face or facebook anymore, and since he wasn't all too fond of who I was becoming... that I was defriending him.

He didn't like that. He was actually really pissed off about it.

Well I had moved on, since clearly he had, and I felt the need to tell him.

Lucky for me I was dating a really smoking guy at the time. Group 3 People, Group 3. And I felt the need to divulge every lovely detail to Can-Can Boy. Sent him a picture via text of this guy, and if he even texted to see what was going on, I'd bring up New Guy. Bitter, why yes, that was the least of it. Grudge is actually my middle name.

New Guy was absolutely great if you're into the long distance/see you on the weekends kind of thing, but I realized something about 2 months in... I was dating him in order to wave my happy little relationship in Can-Can Boys face. He might have been gorgeous, but I wasn't all that 100% into him, and I just got out of the long distance thing a few months before and where most people would drool over him,  all I wanted to do was find someone who could be there for me.

A few weeks after the break up, Can-Can Boy asked why I never brought up New Guy anymore, dumbly, I told him we broke up.

Can-Can Boy never really left me alone for more than 2 weeks after this.

And he had a 6th sense of when he could find me at my most vulnerable moments.

A relationship ends - guess who texts me consistently not 30 minutes afterwards.

I fail epically at a job interview - guess who texts me.

I hit a depth of despair - guess who texts me.

Someone dies - guess who texts me.

It's not like we were friends on facebook. He couldn't see all of this going down. Because after he got the new girlfriend (the blonde girl who kept popping up in pictures while we were "exclusive"). I blocked him. I didn't want to see him, and I didn't want him to see me.


I tried to move on with my life.

But when the last person you loved just slammed the door in your face against your "kind of love" and potentially cheated when you have trust issues already, it's hard to let anyone else in again.

The emotional scars lasted for two-fucking-years. Every guy I dated afterwards could see them, like a fucking beacon shouting, "NOT LETTING YOU IN, TRY AGAIN!"

And then it got worse. Somewhere in my vulnerability, I started letting Can-Can Boy back in, again. What started off as, "let's just be friends" turned into one of the most fucked-up series of late-night sexts and emotional outpourings, which no one I know has even been able to match.

Every single weekend for nearly a year... he'd pop up, or I'd text him, because if no one else better was around, he was there.

And originally I thought, "he still loves me. He's going to break up with his girlfriend, and we'll get back together. He graduates soon!"


Somewhere in the midst of all of these late night texts he was sending me, he proposed.... to his girlfriend.

That didn't stop him from still sexting me, while he had a fiance.

I didn't find out about the fiance till a month later, after a month full of texts that should they ever find their way to her computer... would make her eyes bleed.

Who does that? Tiny fucked up men, that's who (I dont mean tiny in the sense that you're thinking, I mean someone who doesn't have the balls to stick with their decisions. Men without honor or dignity or morals).

I tried to to cut it off. I told him he had to stop texting me at night. If he wanted to be friends, we could be friends, but that meant daytime-texts only. None of this late night bullshit anymore. He was engaged to be married. The sanctity of marriage is something I don't mess with. I went out with a married guy, ONCE, and that was because I didn't know he was married until he told me on the date.

But did Can-Can Boy's new engagement stop him? Nope.

What stopped him for a short while was a post on my blog, where I mentioned that maybe his girlfriend would like to see all of those sexts he sent me.

He flipped. He freaked. And he texted me in a panic asking me to delete everything he had sent me.

It hit me like a NHL Defenseman cross checking me into the boards, when I was focusing on the puck.

He had wanted to have me sextually, but he wanted her to have everything else.

That was the hardest part.


From all the scarring, and through all of this... I developed a really unfortunate side-effect.

For the last year and a half, if the need to be serious with someone reared its nasty little head, I would indulge... in guys I can't have. Guys who can't emotionally damage me, because they never get past the gate.

For starters, I am really good at being the other woman.

It evolved from not being able to trust anymore, so why not be with ones I know are completely untrustworthy from the start? At least then I know not to trust them with anything other than my presence.

(1). I do not run around with married guys. That's not my bag of tea, personally, but (2) everyone else is fair game.

At last check I have been in two, 9-month-plus affairs with guys who both have serious girlfriends.

Next, I am a champion of the long distance if-you-were-here-we'd-be-together-thing.

Back before chatroulette got 100% sketch I met some pretty interesting characters... some of who I still talked to on a weekly if not daily basis through Skype. These all turned into phone calls and texting and promises of visits across the country, which I never planned on actually doing.

I did recently shut all these down, because long distance is wrong distance for me, and it just got cruel to lead them around on a string, hoping. 

Finally, I didn't invest in just one guy anymore. My heart couldn't afford it. Through the past couple of years, I've dated some really great guys, with great jobs, great aspirations, great dreams, and great personalities, who want to shower me with love and never ending adoration, but I dated them all at the same time in varying levels of seriousness.  Because while my heart is over the moon, my head closed them out.

To be honest there were 3 guys who didn't have to share me at the time I dated them, because I honestly liked them... The Masseuse, Dicky MacDickerson, and Mr. Quirky, but if I felt one of them starting to get serious. I would find something to shove in their face and break it off.

Being good at ending things with people is not an admirable quality to have.


But I'm done with that. The Friday night before Halloween this year was an ugly, ugly wake-up call. Hoss still asks me if I'm going to have another "episode" whenever I walk into his bar.

Lucky for me, I have some amazing friends, who have smacked me into reality and who really take care of me.

I dont know what Sam texted Can-Can Boy to make him stop texting me finally, but I do know that all those texts he asked me to delete... all those pictures are saved in my old Palm Pre Plus. If he tries anything funny again (Text me again. I dare you)... I've got dated pictures from after he was engaged that can find their way to little miss blondie's computer faster than you can say, "hi."

I know it's low - it's questionable black-mail, and he might have something of mine that I wouldn't like out in the ether, but I'm tired of being used.

Note of warning - only sext people you trust, and you didn't screw over. 

I'm tired of looking to the past. The future is the only thing I have left.

The psychic was wrong.

He was the worst thing that happened to me since my first grandmother died in 1999.  She was Aunt Billie's sister.

The Saturday night before Halloween was the first moment since Christmas of 2009, where I felt free.  It was my night of redemption in more ways than one.


I recently started talking to a guy, who's funny and charming and great. I don't know where it's gonna go, but I do know one thing.

He's going to get a chance I didn't give any of the others, since Can-Can Boy.

It's time the walls came down.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Why I'm Still Single (Part 6)

The new semester started for him a few weeks after mine. He was studying to get a doctorate in blah-bitty-blah. And we had talked about how he wouldn't have as much time to really talk to me in the new semester.

But some how in the first month we found it easy to find time to skype and call. We had endless time on the phone to pick a couple's song, which I still can't listen to without cringing, and we had endless time to talk about why I was so unwilling to let him into my little walled up village I call emotions.

And eventually he broke down the little walled up village and sucked me into him.

It was at this point in time that I felt that I was done.


We'd been friends for almost a year and a half... it wasn't a spur of the moment decision.

I don't let many people past my walls. 1 in 10000 get to see behind my exterior, and for a guy to get past the walls... to have me really let him in, I trusted him so much. I adored him, and I thought that trust and adoration meant I was done. The psychic... she said that he was gonna be good for me!

About a week after I was d-o-n-e, done, he started bringing up his ex-girlfriend. His anger towards her was staggering. We'd talked about her in the past, but never in the present tense...  This is when he brought up how he'd been calling her, and I was hurt. I was a little pissed off, and I told him.

He slowly began pulling away, after I confronted him, but he didn't outright say, we're done. I still felt as though we had something and that this was just a rough patch.  I thought, "maybe he just needs to get this out of his system."

So I stopped calling, waiting for him to make the move, but if I waited for him to call... I'd wait 3+ days. I started calling again, he'd talk for a few minutes and then leave me with a dial tone as he ran off to study with his study group for some test.

It was a horribly rough semester for me. I was taking 5 grad classes as an undergrad, trying to maintain my 3.7 gpa. I had taken on a second little in my sorority, whom I love dearly, but taking a little is time consuming, as is a sorority in general. I was interning 20 hours at a really great internship downtown. I was getting maybe 3-4 hours of sleep every night, and on top of that, my great aunt was dying, and she had been like a 3rd grandmother to me.

My Aunt Billie used to make me little outfits for my barbies and ty beanie babies. She taught me how to sew pillows, and when I went to visit my mom's mom, she was usually always there. I loved her very dearly. And here I was 1300 miles away and couldn't visit her. I couldn't be there to see her, to hold her hand, to even comfort my family.

I was struggling. Physically, my immune system hates me, and I was getting sick every 3 weeks. Emotionally, it was like being in an emotional blender of constant drama.

On top of all this, Can-Can Boy insisted that 30 minutes of conversation time every 3-4 days was too much for him to manage, but he seemed to be making massive amounts of time for his study group and school chums, including a certain blonde girl who kept popping up in pictures...

So when Aunt Billie died somewhere in the depths of October, I knew that he was busy, but I just needed to talk to him. My roommates were all out. And I desperately needed someone to talk to. To have him comfort me, but when I called him that night, I didn't get a "aww honey, I'm so sorry."

I got a "Why the fuck are you calling me? I have a mid term tomorrow. LoRo, you have no idea what I'm going through right now. I'm studying for a fucking doctorate. I cannot talk to you all the fucking time."

"Ok, I just needed someone to talk to since my aunt just died, but I get that you're busy."

I hung up.

For the next two hours, I couldn't stop the ragged cries.

Can-Can Boy kept calling, but I had no urge to answer and I didn't have the ability to answer. See, I have this thing called the 'pissed off phone throw,' which my friend AJ pointed out - evolved during this semester. So my phone was out of my room and on the floor in the living room because I threw it so far.

EA came in when she got home, and after sitting down on my bed (This was no easy task. My room was a shit show), she took my head in her lap and let me sob.

At some point she left, and I finally picked up one of Can-Can Boy's phone calls (she brought me my phone).

He apologized profusely, but to be honest, I have no idea what he said afterwards. My ears were ringing; my head was pounding, and I could barely open my eyes. I could barely breathe through the snot and panic. He was the least of my problems.

So I hung up.

A few weeks later Can-Can Boy and I were still having these problems with time management. I had been taking a brilliant class with an absolutely brilliant professor who was like me, always busy. He had gotten to a point in his life where he had to schedule appointments with his daughters so that he could see them. He even scheduled wife time.

I thought this sounded like a brilliant plan. Taking the initiative, I brought up my brilliant plan to CCB, but guess what... he wanted no part of it.

"Look, I'm crazy busy right now. I'll have more time for you during Thanksgiving break."
"Like actual skype/phone call time?"


On Thanksgiving day of that year, my non-boyfriend who insisted profusely every day that he loved me... broke up with me.

But for someone who broke up with me... he wouldn't stop texting me. The day after. The day after that. A week after that... I asked him if he thought we were still together and he said yes.

3 weeks after that... He broke up with me again... On Christmas day. My Christmas eve phone call the night before had been, "over the top."

I was really feeling the holiday spirit.

I deleted him from my phone so that I couldn't text him, but guess who couldn't seem to stop texting me.

New Year's Day came and went.

At this point I realized that I had spent my last 2 years of college in relationships, and I had ONE semester left to truly embrace my new-ish sorostitute lifestyle.

I thought "I'm young. I'm not going to get any younger. I'm not going to get any thinner. Why not?"

So I went for it.

To say I jumped in with both feet would be an understatement. I cannonballed into the single life like a bat out of hell.

I don't know if y'all have heard of a slut list or not... best description I can find is here.

But that semester tripled my score. I didn't go jumping every guy that moved, but I sure as shit made out with a Shit Ton of men. At some point in time that semester I agreed to make Molotov Cocktails with a guy, just to ensure a make out afterwards. (No I'm not telling you where we threw them).

But through it all, guess who kept texting.

I told him to stop. I told him I couldn't do it anymore. I told him that he was driving me crazy...

Oh wait.. I skipped a part... 

The part where he had a girlfriend (that blonde girl who kept appearing in pictures) in February, an actual-facebook-official girlfriend. When only 2 months prior he told me, he "didn't have time for one." "Didn't have the finances for one." & "was happy with what he had."

Keep in mind January through February he was still texting me. Saying how he missed me, but he couldn't "love me how I wanted to be loved."

Stopped me looking at grad schools in Canballia real quick.

I can't prove that he cheated on our 'emotional relationship.' But to me it seemed so fishy. So fishy, and I really didn't have any reason to doubt him. I had nothing to say, "AHA! LOOK I FOUND YOU!" I had always trusted him, explicitly. Yes I was jealous of the girl in the picture, but I was jealous of everyone in the friggin' pictures that got to hang out with him when I couldn't.

What friggin' pictures? The ones he kept posting on facebook.

But no longer was that my problem.

I wish that this is the point where the story ended, but it's not.

One night after an influx of more texts than I could bear,  I told him to stop and only text me or call me when he graduated and had actual time to give me.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Why I'm Still Single (Part 5)

Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

I parked in the parking garage an hour early to pick Can-Can Boy up from BWI.

Saying I had sweaty palms, would be an understatement. My heart was racing, and even though I'd brought a book to read, I couldn't get past my book mark. I kept looking up thinking, "maybe he's early!"

He wasn't.

I finally got a phone call from him that he was off the plane and walking through the airport.

Before I knew it he was there, wrapping me in his arms and escorting me through the concourse. That's one of the things I adored about him. His ability to take the lead and protect me always impressed my small-town girl sensibilities.

We got in the car, and he called his mom to let her know he had landed safely, and then we scooted back down 95 to my well appointed Dormpartment (A dorm that's set up like an apartment).

2/3 of my roommates met him and they all seemed to like him. EA thought that he was a bit too snarky for her exact taste, but between you and me, and her and me, and me and me... neither one of us ever had the most excellent taste in men during college, sans ex646 - he was a good guy, still is.

EA has seen it all. She knows me often better than I know myself.

Our last two years in college was a whirlwind of falling on her bed at 2 a.m. and going, "EAAAAAA!!! I've met the man of my dreams!!!! He's SOOOOO PERFECT!!!! Lookit! Look at this picture! Look how perfect he is!!!!!!!!!!" *hiccup!*


"EAAAAA!!! IT. WAS. A. NIGHTMARE! You'll never guess what happened! THIS GUY out of NO-where did, X, Y, and Z and ugggggggh! Oh F*ck, be right back!" *vom*

So she has a very key ability to know what I think and when I think it, and she also has the unique perspective of someone who was in a long distance relationship at the exact same time. So most of the time we'd talk through the issues we each were having and arrive at solutions that worked towards the benefit of each couple.

So Can-Can Boy sat on the couch and watched TV, and cuddled, and ordered a pizza with EA. The three of us just chilling. Most people would think, "but he was visiting you. Why did y'all sit out in the living room with your roommate?"

Because I needed her to get to know him. I needed him to get to know her. I'm very - very careful when it comes to introducing my friends to the guys in my life. It usually takes 3 to 4 months before I'll bring them around, because to be real with you, they seldom last that long. Introducing a guy I'm dating to my friends, is a big step for me, because of how carefully I choose my friends. I don't willy nilly introduce them around to everybody. It's a big deal in my life.

But here was the first chip in Can-Can Boy's "perfect" facade. He wasn't fond of EA and told me so within the first night of meeting her. Not, a "let me get to know her better" meeting but, a "wow - no" impression.


In my opinion he just needed to get to know her better, but I dropped the subject because he was there for one weekend, and I didn't want to argue about it.

The next day we headed downtown, walked around the monuments, went to the museums, and then spent about an hour at my favorite spot in DC during the summer - the Sculpture Garden, just around the fountain part.

We put our feet in and sat admiring the day and talking, because we never ran out of anything to talk about.

I could skype with him for hours, and we'd still have stuff to text each other afterwards.

While I sat with my feet in the water, he got up every so often to take a picture of a duck here or a bird there.

"Are you gonna post those pictures so I can see them?"
"Oh, no I don't post pictures on facebook."
"You have albums and albums full of pictures..."
"I stopped posting my pictures though."
"Well how am I going to see them."
"You can ask like a normal person."
"Why don't you post pictures on facebook anymore?"
"It just got too complicated. People always commenting on them. It's annoying."
"Well you could privatize it to where just we could see."
"I don't think I'll do that."

The conversation struck me as odd at the time, but I ignored it, because - GUYS, I was in LOVE. Calm self assured, open-hearted, trusting love. <--- note this, because it seldom happens.

Usually I'm in the head over heels wanting to jump off the rooftops because I have the worlds biggest crush on this guy or that guy, BUT feeling like I can be me and still impress someone and not have to shout from the steeple how into someone I am... that happens once in a blue moon.

Actually blue moons happen too often, in actuality that kind of love probably only happens to me when Haley's comet comes to town.

The next two days were spent walking around campus, just staying in bed chatting about everything, and introducing him to my best friend, Shay. Shay liked him from what she told me, and he seemed to get along with her too, at least he didn't kvetch about her later to me.

The last morning he was there, I told him I'd take him out for breakfast, but then I remembered something my grandmother once told me, "nothing says love like a homemade meal."

So since I hadn't cooked for him all weekend, and because, I dear readers am an AMAZING cook. I decided to cook him up some pancakes, and bacon, and eggs.

I was so nervous about the pancakes being thin enough (he liked thin pancakes) that I completely washed out on the bacon and 5 minutes into his shower the smoke detector was blaring, and my roommates were helping me get the 2 detectors to shut the f*ck off. It took us 10 minutes of EA wafting the door and me jumping back and forth between the two detectors.

After all that my bacon was slightly burned and just like I anticipated my pancakes weren't "thin" enough, but he did say they tasted good...

Later that day I dropped him off at the airport and we stood outside of Security our forheads touching, with his arms around my waist and my arms around his neck.

"Are you gonna miss me?" he asked.
"Not at all." Lie.
"Not even a little bit?"
"Maybe a little."
He started to tear up...
'Oh god, no, no, no, no, no.' I thought.
What's he doing?? Maybe I saw this wrong. Maybe my eyes are deceiving me.

Nope, saw it right... he. started. to. cry.

If you've been reading my blog for awhile, you'll know that I don't cry - in public... ever (that one time excluded) I've cried once in public in the last... year. Prior to that I cried at my grandmother's funeral and even then this wasn't break down cry this was a "I must be strong so that I can support my family" watery eyes thing - so it wasn't even a full cry it was a whimper-whimper-sniff-sniff.

I didn't really know what to do. So I hugged him.

"You're not sad to see me leave?"
"Yeah, I am."
"But you're not crying, are you really sad?"
"Yeah babe, but um I just don't want to cry."
"I feel like the girl."
'Because you're being one.' 

So after a longer extended conversation about why he was crying and I wasn't, we kissed and he walked through security.

On top of the crying thing, he also had forgotten his phone charger in Canballia, and since he had forgotten his phone charger in Canballia, he couldn't call his mom to let her know he was on the plane, so he gave me her phone number to call after I dropped him off.

I don't really understand why he couldn't call her from my phone himself, but I took it as another sign that he trusted me and loved me and wanted me to meet his family (I'd already met his mother...) So I called.
"Hello, Mrs. Can-Can Boy?"
"Hi it's LoRo..."
"LoRo.. You know, the DC girl that your son's visiting."
"Um... ok, I just wanted to let you know that Can-Can Boy totally forgot his phone charger, so he wanted me to let you know that he's on the plane, and he'll call you when he can charge his phone again."
"Well, ok"
"Ok, well have a good day!"
"mmm, you too."

She seemed horribly displeased and uncomfortable on the phone, or at least that's how I felt that she felt, and I pondered why she was sketched out as I drove back to DC.

Monday, November 28, 2011


We're going to take a break from our "Why Am I Still Single" Series to do a quick post inspired by watching football for the last 14 weeks.

All the guys in these pictures (aside from the Brawny Man) are players in the NFL. If you want to know who's who just ask!


Most people have a certain kind of person they find appealing.

And just like most people, I'm horribly predictable.

My friends can pick out what guy I'm going to go for almost as quick as I can. See. I have a type - a very-particular, well-defined type.

Think lumberjacks.

I like them built like professional NFL linebackers, with beards and bad dance moves.

My Kind of Guys

Seriously you put Jason Kelce of the Eagles or Brett Keisel of the Steelers in front of me, and after I got over the shell shock, I'd flirt my ass off.

Seriously if I had to pick the top 10 sexiest men in the world. Those guys up there would be my top 4, followed by the Brawny man.  Not the new one... the old one with the molestash that looks a bit like Howard Keel from the movie "Annie Get Your Gun."

Most of my friends think my type of guy is actually the most unfortunate kind of guy they've ever seen in their life. I think they are so sexy. Sue me. I have a type.

My friends, like most girls, are normally into guys built like quarterbacks and kickers and running backs, which to me are cute, but I'm not going to be breaking anyone's nose to jump them. These are the typical guys. These are the cuties. These are the actual "sexiest" guys alive, and I could care less.

My Friend's Kind of Guys 

However, on some rare occasions, my friends and I might find someone who is a perfect mix of both our types - think tight ends and burlier quarterbacks. This is when we have some problems.

Both of Our Kind of Guys

When guys like this enter the picture (or the bar), we start to have a problem. 

See - like all groups of friends, my group is very different. We have shy girls, forward girls, in between girls, and each of us has our own style of attracting men.  

I'm not going to lie, the odds that I'm going to stride up to you in a bar is 1 in a MILLION (unless I'm plastered), because I've got a slow and steady win the race mentality. It could be a couple weeks of seeing you around town before I go up to you, but, unlike me, my friend Sam will make it known in the first five minutes. 

Well ladies and gentlemen this can make it horribly awkward for all parties if you're mad crushing someone but your friend dives in first. 


Guys came up with a system many, many years ago, which the girls are just starting to catch onto - Dibs. 

What is dibs

1st - Get out from under that rock. 

2nd - Dibs is when you see a potential walk into the bar/ across the room/ at the game and you are SO into them, and you want your friends to know to back off. 

This is where you shout, "DIBS!"

Usually when I shout, "dibs," my friends all turn at me and say, "dude, you can HAVE him." 

Unless they look like the guys in the last group of photos, then people might get upset, but.. 

Dibs is sacred. 

You do not fuck with dibs. 

Fucking with dibs is like fucking with a Panda Bear - it might seem like just a simple little thing, but if you fuck with a Panda Bear they'll tear your head off. 

If you fuck with dibs, you put your flirting life on the line for the next two weeks, because breaking dibs means you lose dibbing privileges for a FULL two weeks. 

This doesn't mean Saturday to Saturday and on the next Saturday you get to start using dibs again, this means on the SUNDAY post the Saturday you get dibs again. 

If you fuck with dibs, and you're on dibbing probation, and then break dibs again, you can find some new people to go out with, because then you lose your friend honor. 

If you're willing to repetively step on your friend's toes for a guy, how good of a friend are you really? Bros before ho's and chicks before dicks. Sometimes you have to sacrifice your flirting for the honor of the group. 

It's the whole Three Musketeers mentality. It's the "All for one and one for all" mentality where, if you call dibs, your friends are obligated to wingman for you to the best of their ability unless they're flirting their ass off with someone else. It's the I'm going to let you have this one, because you saw him first - so that the next one you can call, if you're quick enough. There's an honor to dibbing, because if someone is calling dibs, they're going to give it their best - even if their best isn't your version of the best. 


What is silent dibs? 

Silent dibs is what happens when you or a friend have slept-with/hooked-up-with/made-out-with someone and would like to continue sleeping/hooking-up/making-out with that person, and it is known to the group. 

Silent dibs is not necessarily spoken. It's usually just an understanding between friends that they might still be interested in pursuing more nights/days of passion. 

If they've hit a base with that person - they're off limits unless they relinquish dibs. 

Relinquishing dibs must be verbal, and in order to relinquish dibs, the person relinquishing MUST look you in the eyes to relinquish. Otherwise, they might still think that there could be potential in the future, and you don't want to step on their toes no matter how hot the guy/girl is. 

Now these are just my dib-pinions. What are some of y'alls? Is dibbing with your groups sacred? Is dibbing chauvinistic? Is dibbing dumb? I'd like to know! 

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Why I'm Still Single (Part 4)

The next morning I texted him how much I loved him (yeah... I said love - this is not me... this is ober girly me, and ober girly me needs people to know how much I love them, all the time) and couldn't wait to see him again. I created a calendar and crossed off the days until our next meeting.

A few weeks later I drove back from Texas to DC, and stopped over to visit Can-Can Boy in his new city (he moved there for an internship). I'd always wanted to visit the home of the BI-LO Dome and see where my favorite hockey player Martin Masa had played when he was younger.

Martin played on my hometown team when I was in high school, and he was good friends with my family. My current TV is actually one that he gave me - it's old, but I hate to get rid of it, because of its sentimental value.

We arrived much earlier than when my mother and I had visited him in City B, because at this point in time, no one else mattered. All I wanted to do was see him. All I wanted to do was stay there for a week to be with him, but when you have a conservative southern mother, that's not an option.

The weeks had been cruel, I felt as thought part of my soul had been ripped out, only to find it again when he held me in his arms.

I don't actually know if he ever knew this. I'm horrible at expressing my in the moment emotions.

Can-Can Boy and I had the "we're exclusive, but we're not boyfriend/girlfriend" chat, because he didn't really want to put labels on it (read he was probably seeing other people - sans sexytime - there's a lot of pictures of him with a certain girl from this time period - oh wait - he's currently engaged to this same girl... odd isn't it). As I look back on it now, his decision to "love me so much," but refusing to allow me to call him my boyfriend when we were "exclusive" makes no sense...  So of course when talking to my friends I dubbed him, 'the Manfriend.'

'Manfriend' to this day is synonymous in my group of friends as someone you're serious about but you're not 100% together - if that makes any sense. He's someone you would bring around to meet your friends, but not someone whom you would bring to meet your family if that makes sense (however Can-Can Boy had definitely already met my mother for sure and my brother's GF, Ash who is family. I had also already met his mother and played trivia with her. She was a really sweet lady, whom I seriously wanted to get to know better).  

Instead of postponing getting to see him till later like the first time around, I drove at a horribly illegal speed to get to him as soon as possible. I longed for him more than I had actually ever longed for someone.

He picked me up at the hotel, talked with my mom for a bit (like a true-southern-gentleman should), and then whisked me off for a walk through Greenville, SC, which is so cute by the way. I'd totally move there when I'm older.

We stopped to grab some pizza at this cute little bistro, because he knew how much I loved pizza (seriously it's my favorite food), and then we made our way back through down town and out onto these trails by a stream. 

After walking the length of the trail until just before it got creepy and graffitied, we cuddled up on a bench and talked about everything, (including my nauseating fear of heights, which he tried to rid me of later on a bridge overlooking the water) while watching families walk by and some poor child play baseball with himself as his parents watched. 

The day slowly began to wane while we talked about our childhood, our futures, our hopes and dreams, but we managed to make our way over to a swinging bench next to the waterfall, and we spent the rest of the evening with me lying down with my head in his lap as we watched the sunset, the moon, shooting stars, planes and satellites while rocking gently back and forth.

It was well past 10 p.m. before we left the comfort of the bench, due to the chill in the summer evening air. 

He then took me on a tour of the town and his new place, before dropping me back off at my hotel. I stayed out much later than I should have, but I didn't want to leave him. I didn't feel like returning to college to be honest with you. I would have been so content to just pause my life to be a waitress in a small town, waiting for him. 

A few weeks later after skyping nearly every day and texting constantly, we decided that he should visit me in DC.

A day after he booked his plane ticket, my best friends, N, Ro, Shay, and I along with another good friend Indy went out to the Great Frederick Fair. We thought it would be a great decision after we had all watched the movie, State Fair the 1960 something musical.

If you haven't been to the Great Frederick Fair, I highly recommend it.

As we made our way along the midway Shay kept pointing out these fortune tellers and palm readers. She desperately wanted to do it, but she didn't want to do it alone, so being a slightly superstitious person (I am SOOO not walking under a ladder), I agreed to have my palm read.

Here's where it gets interesting.

As I sat in the chair infront of this horribly ancient woman, she started at my palm for a good 5 minutes before she spoke. The first words out of her mouth, "You're in love with a man who lives far away from you."

I nearly shit my pants.

"But I can tell he is not the first man that you loved. You loved for many years a man 9 years and 10 months your senior. You had a deep love - a true love."

I actually gagged. In high school I had been horribly close friends with a man close to 10 years my senior. We talked every day - no matter what. He came to see my marching band performances, and I went to see his Christian band play.

We loved each other with such true, pure passion that we never crossed the line. Many people don't understand this. His best friend got a girl 8/9 years his junior pregnant and all of his friends thought that he would do the same with me. They shunned him. They kicked him out of the band. They pushed him aside and abandoned him like a dog on the side of the road, just because they didn't understand our friendship.

I stopped dating in my last two years of high school because of this man. I couldn't think of dating someone else when all I wanted to do was date him, which couldn't happen, because we both knew the consequences.

After I turned 18 he told me how much he loved me - my sentiments were the exact same. The night after he professed this love to me, we stood awkwardly in the Sonic parking lot our foreheads bent together. Our eyes locked. His hand on my neck, mine on his, with the tension of 3 years of built up love coursing through our veins.

And then, I walked away. You can ask him to this day, and he will tell you how much he loved me. He's married now, which is for the best because I knew at that moment in time that I wasn't meant to be in SETX and that being there was going to slowly kill my passion for creativity and life, no matter how much I loved him. He knew he couldn't tie me down either - I had a soul meant for soaring. So we slowly, slowly severed our love over months and months and months. The slow passing of our love pained me every step of the way.

One night I sat at the foot of my dorm room bed wailing, because I couldn't stand it anymore. One of my close floor-mates came to my aid, holding my head, letting me cry my thousand tears. I tried to explain the situation to her, but she didn't understand, after that I stopped telling the story. From that point on my "how many men have you dated" count constantly counted him out, because no one understood.

The next thing my palm reader said to me was, "you have already met your husband, he will be your second great love. Your last great love, and you will have 3 children with him."

"Am I currently dating him?"

"That I cannot tell, the man you date now - you love very deep, but I cannot tell if he's the one. He is very dear to you, and you are very very dear to him. But I'm also saying that you should not turn your back on him, because he needs you as much as you need him, and my dear, he loves you very, very much. It is promising though."

"Wow, I once had a tarot reader tell me I'm to be married before a certain age, do you know what age that is?"


She was spot on. A tarot reader during my freshman year in college (I was 18 at the time) had grabbed my hand most intensely during a reading on the quad, when I asked her if I'd be married before 10 years were out, she said, "you will be married before your 28th birthday to your last great love." - For this I have witnesses.

After this I needed to know. I needed to know how Can-Can Boy and I interacted for longer than 8 hours now that we were "together." 

So he booked a ticket and flew up. I picked his sexy ass up in Baltimore at BWI, and (dot) (dot) (dot) 

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Why I'm Still Single (part 3)

I'm not the kind of girl who gives her heart away easily, unless we share the bond of sisterhood. I hold onto it until I'm absolutely 100% sure nothing is going to happen to it.

See, I was cheated on 3 times by my sophomore year of college, in just as many boyfriends. The jewel on the crown being the night I walked in on my first college beau to find him buck-naked with another girl (this incident founded the seedling of irritation with Marines) (See later irritation with marines).

For me to commit to someone involves making sure, making 100% sure I don't want to be with anyone else. I don't want to find out 3 months into something that I'm head over heels for someone else. It involves trying on different pairs of metaphorical pants before I decide to invest in that one special pair.

It involves days and nights of emotional struggles trying to make sure that I'm making the right decision, because I don't like being stuck in something to which I'm not fully committed.

I knew that seeing Can-Can Boy again, in person, was going to be akin to buying the horse. I knew that having the ability to hold and touch him was going to pull me in, because for the past 6 months, whenever anything happened in either one of our lives we called the each other first. We had developed this intense emotional intimacy from over 800 miles away. Throw being in the same room in the picture and #BAM! Instant connection.

But... I wanted to make sure.

As my mother and I made our way into MrBaseball and Can-Can Boy's state which we'll call Canballia (yes I just made a state name), I received a phone call from MrBaseball, which ended in me agreeing to come visit him in his city, City A. I informed my mother that we were making cross country stop overs to visit the men in my life, which she agreed to since she was, "just along for the ride"- read doesn't want me driving across country alone.

As we pulled into City A, I texted Can-Can Boy to tell him we were going to be a day late and a dollar short because I also heard about some great outlet malls outside of City A.

Getting ready for my "final" date of single-hood took shorter than expected and before I knew it I was whisked away to country saloons and a dueling piano bar, where MrBaseball and I had a drink with Rich from the Big&Rich guys as in the "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy" guy... He bought us a drink... and drank it with us - in the bar, like together.

It was too fuckin' cool.

It was an absolutely great night. He took me on a tour of some of the museums by moonlight  and then returned me to my hotel where I couldn't help but think, "there's something missing." It felt more like two friends hanging out having a beer together than it did fireworks and romance, but it was still a lot of fun.

The next morning we hit the road for City B.

A little after two, we pulled into our hotel, which had been taken over by tiny children in town for a baseball championship (there's some kind of irony/humor here, but I don't know what). I texted Can-CanBoy to tell him my mother had spotted an Ulta next door, so we'd be there till he arrived to grab me. We hadn't been there for 2 seconds before he bust into a makeup store with no remorse, guns-a-blazing.

My mother talked to him for a while, while I made my final makeup purchase decisions (you should see my collection... it's staggering - let's just say he stood there for a while), and then he whisked me outside.

I swear the sun was a little brighter.

As he held the door open I could feel his eyes on me, and when we got just out of eye-sight of my mother he pulled me into him with boyish alacrity, kissing me.

I probably blushed because he touched my cheek, "What are you? Nervous that your mother saw?"
"Just a bit."

He led me to his SUV-car thing and showed me around his hometown, where he went to high school, the "best" bbq, which he promised to take me to later, and then showed me his mom's house (which he was watching while she was out of town) in order to take the dog for a walk.

An actual dog, I promise...

We never actually made it back to the bbq place, because we didn't leave the four walls of the living room. Instead of going out and showing me more of his city, we just sat on the couch - talking, canoodling, and watching tv.

In comparison to the night before, being there with him - watching Golden Girls and Food Network - just relaxing was more than I could have wanted.

You know how when you feel like you're home in the arms of someone - that feeling of complete security and safety and love? As I laid in his arms on the couch, I felt like I'd found more than just a brief flirtation. For the first time, in a long time, I felt like there was no where else I'd rather be.

You see, I have this mantra that I wear around my wrist everyday, "No matter where my travels may lead, paradise is where I am." It's a quote by Voltaire. Usually I live my life in this manner (outside of my writing - haha). The present is what's the most important bit. Why live for the future, when it's uncertain? Why live for the past, when it's already done? Paradise is the hear and now. And in that exact moment, the sentiment couldn't have rung more true.

And after hours and hours of doing nothing but talking and canoodling in each other's company, he took me back to the hotel around 1:30 a.m. or so, and we sat in the car for a while. Him staring at me. Me staring at him, until I broke the silence, "I do love you, you know?"

He leaned across the console and held my face in his hand, his face alight with hope and tenderness mixed with joy, "I love you too."

"How's this going to work?"
"We'll figure it out."
"But when will I see you?"
"We'll figure it out. I can come visit you and vice-versa."

Friday, November 11, 2011

Why I'm Still Single (Part 2)

As the summer came to a close, I introduced my mother... for the first time ever... to one of my boyfriends (ex646)... as my actual boyfriend, as in, mom "this is my boyfriend, ex646"... typically if my mother ever met a boyfriend, she knew him before... and I usually said... "oh, haha, noooo he's not my boyfriend... we're just going to prom/homecoming/church camp dance/the concert together."

My father has only known one of my boyfriends... A really handsome guy I dated in high school, we'll call ex73. And aside from ex73 coming over to the band booster concession stand to see where I was or if my pops could drop him off at home, I'm not really sure they had many interactions... because I was always horribly awkward around the boyfriend/parent combo. I actually broke up with ex73 because I felt sooooooo awkward whenever they were in the same place, not because I didn't like him and not because he wasn't awesome (he totally was), but because I felt like a 5 year old playing house with her Barbies, saying, "hey dad, what's this? A barbie? Noooo I'm totally using it as a prop for um... um... a computer science project... yeah... as a um... a model... yeah.... I'm not playing with BARBIES?! PSSSSH. I'm totally grown up because, look, I have a boyfriend!"

I blame this on the fact that my parents never really talked about dating all that much... probably because they didn't know that much about it..

See... they met as sophomores in high school... got married a few months out of high school... and have been together for 38 years on November 16... Aside from talking about their storybook romance (which is soooo sweet, truly) they never really sat my brother or me down to really talk about how to negotiate the world of building emotional intimacy and trust in a loving and fruitful relationship... I just had to guess, by watching.

My mother met ex646 and liked him straight off. She thought he was a sweetheart, and she could tell that he really cared for me.

But 2 days later he was gone back to where ever it is he's from (yes, I know where he's from but I'm not telling), and I got a bit upset. See, he really didn't tell me he was leaving, until I got back to DC from Texas, and I felt alone and confused and after drinking with the men's club hockey team for the better part of 4 hours, I was trashed.

Do you know how many rounds of quarters you have to play in order to beat an entire hockey team... I don't know either, but I can tell you however many rounds you have to play... I played. When I beat the final guy, he literally said, "shit, I've never seen a girl drink that much."

Damn right - I beat them. I have witnesses. I don't know who they are, but I know that there were witnesses, because they high-fived me across campus for two-weeks afterwards... but still no idea who they are. Anyways, for the first time since St. Patricks Day, I was trashed off my ass.

This was also the first time since my cousin died over the summer from drunk driving that I decided it was o.k. to be drinking... which doubled how bad I felt on top of the alcohol, because my, "meh, just a little" turned into an entire keg... and as I huddled in a corner sniffling and pondering why I was a horrible alcoholic (I know... two nights of drunk revelry does not an alcoholic make, but I was naive), I texted Can-Can Boy and told him how I was a horrible person and... blah blah blah. (yep in my early stages I was the apologetic/sad drinking person), and he talked me down (or maybe I imagined all this... it's possible - So. Much. Booze).

After that night, the late night conversations had been established with Can-Can Boy. It was a free for all. Any time of day or night became o.k. to text/call, much to the chagrin of my boyfriend.

"LoRo, why is someone calling you at 3 a.m?"
"LoRo, why is someone texting you at 4 a.m.?"
"LoRo, who is that? Don't they know it's 5 in the frickin' morning?"

He knew what time it was... because he was typically drunk, but his mantra was, 'hey, I started it!'


As the semester went on, he'd text during the day too. He'd call during the day. Time didn't matter because for some bizarre reason, we had become close friends... over 800 miles away from each other.

When he went to buy the ring for his girlfriend, and she broke up with him in the parking lot over the phone, who did he call? Me.

Yeah, I still don't know why he called me, but he did, and I answered even though I was in the library for mandated study-time, and I definitely was not supposed to be on my phone in public areas... and I definitely was not supposed to be talking to boys (why? just accept that I wasn't supposed to be doing it, ok).

So as he dealt with the emotional holocaust that occurred due to imagining that he was going to marry some girl, he pulled me in on it, like the lifeboats on the Titanic pulled down by the suction of a massive vessel slipping below the water. And I had lots of guy friends, so I was accustomed to dealing with man drama. So I was there when he needed me, whenever he needed me.

That's when I started answering his phone calls at 2/3/4 a.m.

I'm not sure exactly when, but as the months went on, I realized that I was not in the relationship I wanted to be in, not that I necessarily wanted to be in a relationship with Can-Can Boy, but that what I had wasn't what I needed at that time. So, I trampled the heart of ex646, and we split.

The next 6 months was a free for all of embracing who I was, who I wanted to be, and what I wanted to do.

This involved a lot of booze and boys, lots of boys. Actually it involved any boy that would hold my hand for longer than 2 seconds and could reach me via cell phone. I slipped into the world of midnight make out sessions and cuddling during bad movies (seriously 30 Days of Night? WHO MADE THAT SHIT?!)

When the semester ended, I was by myself the majority of the summer chillin' on campus bored out of my mind, which meant lots of texting/calling/skyping with Can-Can Boy (or anyone who would pay attention to me). And before I knew it. He was professing his love over the telephone, and I didn't know what to do. See, he was drunk and I don't fall in love very easily.

I fall into infatuation faster than you can say, "uh," but love that's very, very different, so to have someone drunkenly spouting out their love for me, was overwhelming when I hadn't seen him in a year.

So I did what every girl would do in my situation and went out to a bar with N for her birthday, I met a guy we'll call MrBaseball who was visiting for the weekend, then I met SexyFace and took him up on his promises - his very drunken promises... but hell I had so many fuckin' kamikazes it seemed like a perfect decision...

A week later I was driving back to Texas from DC (long - ass - drive), and Can-Can Boy convinced me it would be a good decision to see him on my way home. . . because, guys, he "loved" me. So curious to see what was there... I told my mom we needed to make a stop-over.

I need to tell you right now... MrBaseball lived in the same state that Can-Can Boy does... so you can see where this is going.