The Female Dog

Why do guys love bitches so much?

It seems counter-intuitive. No one likes a bitch. Except maybe other bitchy girls, because then they have someone else to bitch to and to bitch about. But the more I think about it, the more I realize guys really like those whiny, mean, jerk-face type of girls.

I remember very clearly an example from high school. It was summer time; we lived at the pool. One of my friends and I decided we should match up a third friend with this one guy we always saw at the pool (to this day this same friend is an obsessive match-maker). He had told me he was looking for a girl; she is such a sweetheart. Perfect match, right? Okay, we were young, whatever.

So four of us headed to the pool to meet him and his friends: the matchmaker and I, the match-ee, and our fourth friend. Now this fourth girl I love to DEATH - of course - but she, well, on multiple occasions she has cussed out or physically hit a guy who had been dating one of her friends (yup, happened to me. He probably deserved it). She doesn't exactly have a friendly, optimistic view about boys, to put it lightly.

Everything went well. We played a little water basketball, ordered a little pizza and did some chatting. Match-ee was her vaguely shy, adorable and flirtatious self. Non-friendly aggressively attacked the boys for um, being too aggressive with the basketball. And constantly made fun of them. But we all had a great time goofing around.

At the end of the day, the boy asked me about non-friendly! Poor little match-ee, with her cute smile and innocent actions, got left in the dust. He didn't even look twice at her. What the heck went wrong? Should she have been more, well, bitchy?

More recently, this guy has been pursuing my sister. Okay, like I'm totally surprised, she's a hottie, whatever. But this is her ex-boyfriend. She's broken up with him like three times already. Just yesterday he came over and their date activity of choice was...arguing. She was the one with the most curse words, the loudest voice, and the most blaming tone. She's a genius at that old stand-by: passive-aggressiveness. She came into the room where I was job-searching and very articulately said, "Someone won't leave. Even though I've told him to several times." And yet, today, he's still calling her. Begging for her to take him back. Promising that he'll do better. Better at what? The only thing he's guilty of is loving a bitch.

Today I had lunch with a friend who was just broken up with. She helped him write papers. She always hung out with his friends. She sat on the couch bored while he played video games. She was understanding when one of his exes kept texting him until four in the morning, looking for a hookup. And then he broke up with her because he "wasn't ready for a relationship." He didn't have to do anything, give up anything or even remotely try in this "relationship." She is the most loving and caring person I know - what if she had been more of a demanding bitch?

Watching various TV shows and movies, all I see are bitchy women. And of course the next scene features their boyfriends and husbands who complain about their nagging, demands, complaining, and all-around bitchiness. I decided long ago - after keeping a close eye on other couples, including my parents, and other fake media portrayals of couples - that a relationship has a greater chance for survival and true happiness the less the woman bitches.

But if men are truly more attracted to bitches, as they seem to be, do I have to become the bitch that no man wants but every one pursues? Is this connected to how boys only like the chase? How girls always want a bad boy?

So many relationship questions, so little time in my last end-of-semester break ever....

If there's a second thing I've learned...

It's that not trying is key.

It happened again. The week after I officially gave up on boys (including seeing a cute one without any sort of stimulating physiological reaction in my body at all, and instead just feeling depressed about how many girls he's probably mistreated), they return the pursuing full-force.

It seems so counter-intuitive, but the past two boys that have made any sort of move on me must have done it because I went into the situation thinking "hmm, I so don't need to flirt with them."

So I didn't.

But they did.

Right now, the third key to fit my personal pattern is that the boy must not go to JMU. Those ones are still all lame. But it's okay - there's hope for love in the world outside of the Harrisonburg bubble!

(Thank goodness. Get me out of this bubble. I mean wait - I love it here! I don't want to leave! Ah, didn't I just struggle with this dual emotion like yesterday when it came to senior year of high school?)

If there's one thing I've learned in my little hiatus here...

It's that guys do not like slutty girls.

Also, that women struggle with lust as much or more as boys do.

Also, that I have too many updates to write creatively about.

Also, that I like parallel structure in threes.

ah, JMU...

It feels just like New York.

I was walking past the tennis courts, where a bunch of Spanish-speaking guys were playing soccer. As I strolled, excited about my last year at JMU (eek!) and my awesome job and job training (why I'm here so early), the men started making kissing noises at me.

Ah, it was like I was back "home" in Brooklyn.

The kissing noise. Best way to attract girls anywhere. Ahem.

These Boys Explain Love Much Better Than I Ever Willl

Genius! And totally crush worthy. Mmm

This is Why I'm Commitment-Phobic

I was about to climb the stairs to my apartment when his beauty stopped me in my tracks. Though usually suspect to the types who hang around late at night in my neighborhood, the way he strutted over to me made me curious. Somehow we started chatting, and the chemistry between us was obvious.

Before I knew it, we were sitting on my front steps, and the night was speeding by. Obviously a bad boy, he seemed nervous whenever a car sped by and ran over the bottle that was littering the street. He shifted his gaze from me to check his surrounding every time the tires on plastic popped and rattled.

Our arms and bodies kept accidentally brushing, and I knew I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help myself - I broke down and let him lie on my lap. But then I realized the time and had to leave him on my stoop, looking at me with big, sad eyes, asking to come up. But I wouldn't cross that line.

He had mentioned that he was hungry, so back in my apartment feeling guilty leaving those eyes, I got out the milk to bring down to him for a midnight thought. Like I hoped, he was still on the stoop. So we nuzzled some more while he drank his milk, and I promised to bring him breakfast the next morning, if he was still around.

I knew at that point I was in love, but would be hurt by this ruggedly handsome renegade. The final line I didn't want to let myself cross - the point of no return - would be naming him. I told myself not to do it, but I did anyway. His name is Havemeyer.

Unless he's really a girl, then her name is Marcy.

What? He was too contentedly purring away in my lap to bother him by rolling him over to check! I couldn't do that to my beloved found cat Havemeyer, who no, I have not seen since that fateful night.

And I am totally in withdrawal. I miss my baby kitty. As soon as I commit - he is gone from my life. I should have dismissed him from the beginning without letting feelings get caught up in it. I knew it would be too much to ask from someone else's outdoor cat to come back and visit me every day, no matter how much milk I gave him.

And Once Again I Prove That Awkward = My Life

First, I had to use the dread line:

"I like you...as a FRIEND."

Eesh, it even hurt my own ears as it came out of my mouth.

And as we continued to have a really awkward discussion (the awkwardness heightened by the fact that English is the poor guy's second language), I realized that this is why no one honestly communicates about relationships. It made me so glad that I have never told a boy, "but hey! I like you!" and then had to make him awkwardly explain that, you know, chemistry is either there or it isn't, you know? And like, I think you're really sweet and all, but it's just not...there?

Second, I went on a sorta-date with a guy who's age...I could not...quite...peg. He was definitely too old for me. But, he's from DC, so we had a lot to talk about, he did pay, and although he was quite fake with his interest in anything I had to say and his hair spiked up to hide what I suspect may be a bit of premature balding, it was fine, and less sketchy than I thought it would be.

I've been realizing more and more lately that lowering my standards because my "dating lame guys is more fun than not dating anyone" mantra is not so satisfying any more. The only two boys I vaguely find myself interested in (in my mind mostly) are D3 and the Ex.

And - drum roll! - D3 IM-ed me tonight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A snipit, to show how lamely excited I am to the point that it deserves all those exclamation points:

D3: heyyyy
Me: hiii! how are ya?
D3: good, i miss you! When are you coming back?

At this point, I flopped backward on my bed and let a huge grin take over my face. Seriously, am I 14 or what?

Do notice the four Y's he used. And the jumping to the "I miss you" point (which is a very good point if I do say so myself). And this is why girls are lame.

The Paradox:

When I'm feeling my worst, boys pester me more.

I went to go meet my mom's bus at Penn Statioin when she came to visit me. But it was right after a nap, so I threw on my JMU sweatshirt (complete with a pink paint stain of some sort), wiped the excess mascara out from under my eyes, and trudged into the subway system.

"Hey, purple's my favorite color!"

Really? It is? Well thank goodness I wore it!

It ended with multiple kisses on the cheek. I don't know how I let myself get in these sketchy situations.

Then the other night, I went to go buy MORE TOILETPAPER (seriously) at like midnight around the corner. I was pissed off and in a rush to, you know, pee? And then go to bed?

"Have a good night!"

(mumbled) "Thank you!"

"I SAID good NIGHT!"

(angrily - bad idea at midnight in a vaguely sketchy-looking neighborhood, I know) "I said you TOO! THANK you!"

And I kept walking, after two other younger 20-something guys snickered. Little did I know, when I would come back around that same corner, conquest in my posession, the same guy would still be there.

As he approached me, giving me a second chance with "Have a good night!" I just straight out asked him whether or not he said hello to every girl in the city, or do I have something on my face that says "Well hello there! I'm from out of town! Specifically, the south! I am a friendly person!" even when I think I've mastered the "Get out of my way. I'm a disgruntled/busy New Yawker" face. While I was blabbering on, he was stumbling over words himself about being 40 and living in the same apartment for 10 years and he doesn't talk to every girl and maybe could we get together for-

No! I refused to be picked up past midnight by undatable, creeptastic men. Refuse! I'm trying to raise my standards here! (Okay, maybe if he had been in his 20s...still probably a bad idea).

So, I think every guy who makes a little cat call or says something to me, I'm going to poll him: is it me? Or is it the city? Or is it you? It must be exhausting talking to every pretty girl here. Lawdy knows there are a lot more of 'em than pretty (straight) men.

And the lesson I learned from this that one of my guy friends tried to convince me was true just a few weeks ago: You don't need to try to get a guy's attention. It's the lack of effort that turns guys on.

So now I have to try to not try? That's when I pretend to not be looking for dates because, well, they always show up when you're not.

Hi-larious Linkage

Living, uh, I mean working, in the blogosphere all day long, I have realized that I have laughed out loud to funny Web stuff less and less. But this Gawker posting about this New York Post article about a Cosmopolitan article had me covering my mouth and snickering - although my office pretty much encourages laughing out loud at all times.

So hey, why not add fuel to the online fire and spread the word?

Back to lame/weird/funny NYC boys later.

A totally unplanned post...stream of consciousness? Eek!

I'm dying to write about something. Anything to keep it up and improve my like totally mad skills. But I have nothing relevant dating-wise.

For once in my life, here in the place where there are probably the most diverse, most forward, most plentiful amount of men/boys, I am not concentrated on them at all. I am already stuck in a rut, assuming that all the attractive ones are gay. Or taken. I am surprised at the number of couples I see roaming this city.

My friends have been comparing me to Carrie from Sex and the City a lot lately - holy crap am I flattered - but I just don't know how it is possible. Albeit, it was a TV show, a piece of fantasy, but she just so easily found eligible bachelors around every corner.

The ticket I need to find eligible bachelors? A fake ID. I can't get into bars. No where here has an 18+ night. But everywhere has an intern special night. What interns are over 21 anyway? Already graduated ones? Lame. One month to go and I loathe my under-21 status more than ever in my life. Even though the majority of guys who (creepily) hit on me must be at least 35.

Though I did get a nice/non-creepy comment today. I was in Duane Read, searching for some contact solution that has evaded me on every other shopping trip.

"Excuse me, miss?" he said. "I like your hair. Very pretty."

Maybe he's figured out the secret to non-catcall-sounding commentary. Pick what is attractive, and be specific. As long as it isn't a body part that has been given a crude nick-name or two (yeah, sorry boys, I know this leaves you with very few options).

Anyway, to continue with the randomness, I've been thinking about the ex a lot recently. (Please notice, if you click through, that those posts were from just about two years ago. Yeah. That's why it's so lame that I've been thinking about him so much lately.)

We only chat twice a year on each other's birthdays that so conveniently fall six months apart; another reason why I cannot wait for mine to come. I wonder if he's having commitment-phobia issues too because of me or not. Dare I bring up these touchy subjects? One of my best gfs (who somehow has been "in love" twice - actually, now that I come to think of it, my younger sister has too. What gives? Once has already been too much for me. ANYWAY!) says that because I'm still thinking/pondering/worrying/wondering about him means we're "meant to be." And that I must contact him as soon as possible. I'm not sure if his current girlfriend would much appreciate that. Or that he would either, considering that it is almost his turn to be the contact-er, not the contact-ee.

Or maybe I'm just feeling like a victim of mild loneliness in this big, bad, fabulous, amazing city.

Boys as Roommates Part 2

Somehow the boys and I are on our third roll of toilet paper in as many days, which is annoying - since I bought the toilet paper assuming, as the girl in the apartment, I would be using it the most - and gross - considering I only use the apartment bathroom like twice a day.

(For I am far to busy being glamorous in the city to stick to the comforts of home of course!)

Boys as Roommates

Doesn't seem like such a bad idea. In fact, I think it has worked really well. I have two. Boy roommates that is. They are both very neat and clean, and actually living with boys makes me feel safer in this big, bad new city! One is almost always at his girlfriend's, so I rarely see him. The other is very quirky, friendly, nice, cool, chatty, and, I have come to learn, a creepy womanizer.

He spoke of a girlfriend when I was visiting to sign the sublease, though it seems this was not quite true. The other night he said he was going to have a friend over, and I was totally fine with it (after all, I had a fabulous friend visit me this weekend!) . I decided to go to bed early, but I am genuinely a heavy and low maintenance sleeper, so I told him not to worry about being quiet.

Maybe I should have been more specific.

I heard the friend come in, and them chatting and stuff, but then I fell asleep. I woke up a bit later to some moans and groans. I thought I was having an awkward dream. His music was turned up loud but she was louder.

The next morning - feeling awkward of course - he asked me if he had been too loud last night. I wanted to avoid an even more awkward conversation, so I just feigned sleeping through the whole night. But he continued, bordering on the ickiness, "really? Because I know this girl's a loudmouth! She's originally from Israel but she grew up on Long Island." Ha...ha...ha...oh those crazy Long Island girls?

So later we were having a general conversation about dating and creepy guy calling me four times in one day...and then two times two days later...and leaving a really long creepy voicemail two days after that.

"Yeah, I'm dating this nice French girl right now, but I'm not going to like, you know, show up at her job. She works at a woman's clothing store! It'd be so obvious that I wasn't there to shop! I don't want to be pushy," he said.

Hmm, well he's doing a good job not being pushy while he's pushing into someone else. Poor French girl!

Good thing he's too short and too old for me. Great roommate, horrible dater.

Can I getcho' numba girrrrl

I love New York City.

I got asked out twice in one day.

Now, I don't say this to brag - just as a fact. A surprising fact.

How did I respond? Well, I gave both of them my number, but I wasn't particularly interested in either. Do I:

a) take the free drink/coffee/dinner date
b) don't call them back to not lead them on
c) be adventurous and give them a serious chance
d) be wary because there are a lot of creep-jobs out there

Number Guy 1 called four times while I was at work today. Only left one message. That kiiiiind of leads me to go with choice d). Good idea?

Boy-men

Knocked Up. It looked like a decent movie with a potentially slightly offensive (bold choice!) title. But then the critics started loving it. And now I can't wait to see it.

An excerpt from this New York Times article:

• "Mr. Apatow’s critique of contemporary mores is easy to miss — it is obscured as much by geniality as by profanity — but it is nonetheless severe and directed at the young men who make up the core of this film’s likely audience. The culture of sexual entitlement and compulsive consumption encourages men to remain boys, for whom women serve as bedmates and babysitters. Resistance requires the kind of quixotic heroism Steve Carell showed in “The 40-Year-Old Virgin” or a life-changing accident, like Alison’s serendipitous pregnancy."

Interestingly, we talked about this in one of my media classes two semesters ago. Movies like Punch-Drunk Love, About a Boy, and Bridget Jones' Diary are all about these boy-men who need strong women to take care of/fix them.


(I am one of those women! I want to take care of/fix boy-men! I am trying to not let this happen anymore.)

I tried to bring this point up in a random conversation I had with a guy in a park today. (I love random conversations!) But being a 30-something guy who actually initiates conversations, he did not understand the lame mamma's-boys that are plaguing my girl-power raised generation.

Unless... is girl power making men mamma's boys?

When we shun a guy who, in a vain attempt at being an adult, vaguely cat-calls us, are we turning down the only guy in the vicinity who is not a boy-man? Who is actually brave enough to initiate a dating-like situation? Or, are we properly not encouraging him to continue to be a sexist pig?

Ah, the 21st Century's (no no this isn't even that new. It must have started with the first suffragettes, I don't know) conundrum: girl power/equality, or actually manly men?

Types Part 2

My current (celebrity, totally unrealistic) crushes:

• Dane Cook
• Conan O'Brian (weird! I know...but the more I watch, the deeper I fall)
• Zach Braff (I've been watching "Scrubs" far too often. And every time I feel nostalgic/emotional at the end of the show)

I know there are a lot more. I don't know how they are possibly escaping my mind.

So, the trend you ask? They are all comedians. Loud, outgoing, borderline on the awkward (but embracing the awkward!) guys.

The other night a Conan rerun was on, and Eva Longoria was the guest host, and Conan was all flirtatious with her. And I was jealous. I mean, really. Jealous? Silly. Really, I've been watching too much TV.

I was telling my girlfriends last night about not-my-type-boy, and the way I described him was "Yeah, out of the two of us, I'm the funny one. I don't know if I like that."

"That's a shame," one responded.

"Yeah, I know!"

"...because you're not that funny!"

Yeah...I know. Thanksssss.

But hey, he's a nice guy.

But, hey! I'm in a whole new city now. And according to my equally adventurous soon-to-join-me friend, we will be finding New York City MEN, not boys.

Types

My dad and I were having long, obscure conversations, as we usually do, on our drive up to New York (where we finalized a place for me to sublet for the summer! yaaaay! So look forward to NY vs. VA boys :)), and we started talking about types.

Mostly because I've been on a few dates with a boy now that "isn't my type," as I've been fond of saying recently, but is of the typical hottie genre that makes up probably the majority of girls' type. I think it's his typical-ness - strong jaw line, short sorta-spiked hair cut, tight shirts that reveal a very nice physique - that makes him not my type. (I know, I know, what's wrong with me?)

Ah! And he just called. Awkward blogging karma?

Anyway, so my dad's natural question - as is yours, I can so clearly tell - "What IS your type?"

I tried to define it. I really did. But I could not put into words, much less a specific category.

I used to think that I didn't have a type. Or maybe that my type was "any guy who talks to me." My friends have told me for years to raise my standards from "any guy who talks to me," and I'm trying! Really I am! Now it's "any guy who talks to me, and seems to have a romantic interest in me."

The types I have dated (sorry to put anyone, especially these poor unsuspecting guys, in a general category):

• a drama nerd
• a bad-boy punk
• a self-described redneck
• a spotlight-hog (like myself! and so happens to be the First Love)
• a not-so-intelligent class clown
• a skinny aspiring singer/songwriter
  
• a tall nautical man (okay, so I'm having type-ing him. He was cute though. very. More cute than hott. Shaggy-hair cute. mmm... perhaps shaggy hair is my type!)
• an a capella singer (one of my goals in life ACCOMPLISHED! the other goals - varsity sport player, cowboy and bass player, are all on their way I'm sure)
• a (kind of) preppy pretty boy
• a "nice guys finish last" nice guy
  

So, where are the similarities in this list?

Well, each of these guys did make the move on me first. They are all confident and friendly enough (in some circumstances, unfortunately, it turned out they only had those traits when under the influence of alcohol) that they could approach me. All but two of them picked me out; approached me out of the blue. The two that I happened to choose were First Love and D3 (kind of preppy/pretty), but once I picked them out from afar and subtly did the flirtatious thing, they picked up the initiating slack.

Basically, my type seems to be the initiator. Is this good? I am generally of the mindset to give guys the benefit of the doubt and sort of date anyone who is willing to date me. As I widen the pool of suitors, it improves my chances of finding a good one, right? But I can tell you that I have had the most fun with and actually liked FL and D3 the best.

Perhaps a type isn't that important. But one thing's for sure, unless I want to be stuck with guys who are kind of cool but I don't really care that much about for the rest of my life, I need to start picking and stop only letting myself be picked.

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P.S: military guys/men in uniform. Does that count as a type?

P.P.S: Does everyone else have a type that is easily described?

Why my life is the exact opposite of Pink's "U+Ur Hand"

It's a catchy song. I even know a dance to it. You can find me attempting to belt the lyrics, but only in the privacy of my car with the volume knob cranked to the right.

On the other hand, it is awfully crass, and I generally don't approve of the use of "u" in place of "you," even when it saves space in a text. Plus, Pink is being awfully harsh to these boys! Other reasons why my life is the complete opposite of "U+Ur Hand:"

Check it out
Going out
On the late night
Looking tight
Feeling nice
It's a **** fight
I can tell
I just know
That it's going down
Tonight
At the door we don't wait cause we know them
At the bar six shots just beginning
That's when dick head put his hands on me
But you see

• Umm...we don't know them. Last time my girlfriends and I went into DC, we totally lucked out because we got valet parked right in front of the building and although it was raining, we got a spot in line underneath the awning. One of the bouncers asked us, "Are you on the guest list?" Uhh..no. How do you get on the guest list you ask? You sign up online. Fabulous. We really must do our sophisticated research.
• Six shots? Really, Pink, isn't that a little much? Anyway, I'm the last of my friends to turn 21.
  

Midnight
I'm drunk
I don't give a ***k
Wanna dance
By myself
Guess you're outta luck
Don't touch
Back up
I'm not the one
Buh bye
Listen up it's just not happening
You can say what you want to your boyfriends
Just let me have my fun tonight
Aiight

• Please see age requirements, above.
• I do not mind for one second dancing by myself. In fact, I can be a lot more creative and have a lot more fun. But, Pink, if you really want to dance by yourself and only yourself, do it in your bedroom. I'm sure you have a fabulously-sized one with your own personal ballet barre and wall mirrors.

I'm not here for your entertainment
You don't really want to mess with me tonight
Just stop and take a second
I was fine before you walked into my life
Cause you know it's over
Before it began
Keep your drink just give me the money
It's just you and your hand tonight

• I enjoy entertaining. Is this a bad thing?
• I would not be able to fight anyone or anything. In the middle of my high school graduation season, I got a call from a Marine recruiter. Instead of being ruthless and saying "not interested!" and hanging up as quickly as possible, I had an actual conversation with the guy. I admitted to him that even if somone gave me a gun and told me "you have to shoot this humanoid alien, or else he will kill you," I still don't think I could pull the trigger. It's hard enough for me to pick up a weapon even in a video game! Back in elementary school (I don't know how I remember this!) I had a dream that one of the guys in my class was being mean to me or something. I couldn't push him away. Luckily, my best friend at the time came over and kicked him in the balls for me. But seriously, how lame is that, that I couldn't even hurt a meanie in a dream?
• I may have been fine before you walked into my life, but who said it can't get better? Or be filled with more fun?
• And...that's just awkward. Sorry boys.

Sorry Pink? Does this make me a push-over? Or whatever the opposite of a feminist is? Ah well. I like boys. Just non-creepy clubbing ones, if you please.

Encore...?

D3.

He's back.

We live in the same general area away from school, so yeah we went through the whole "yeah let's hang out!" thing. Since I heard he was dating someone else (a girl he always used to talk about when we were dating no less!), yeah yeah I'll believe that we'll hang out when I see it.

Well, I saw it!

Chatting online at like 11:30 on a Wednesday night, he joked that he was on his way over (we were discussing the food options at my house). Haha yeah sure! Come on over, just don't wake my parents (oh how I enjoy being home but oh how I miss the freedom of school)!

D3: Haha I'll be right over!

Me: (yeah yeah, I'll believe it when I see it)LoL okay great!

D3: No seriously...should I come over?

Uhhh....

So I polled some girlfriends quickly online (ohhh technology). Was this a booty call? Was he, as a "nice" guy who became a little too "nice" when he started treating me more as a sister than as a romantic interest, actually capable of a booty call? Am I technically dating this other guy* that I have been...seeing? What do I do with D3, who I had really really really liked at one point? And now...see occasionally and have really "friendly" but good conversation with?

Their consensus: Do it! But don't make out if you don't want to!

Great, now who honestly doesn't want a make out session? If there was an award for most likely to want one, I would totally win it. Like anytime. Day or night. Well, okay maybe I'd come in second place to one of my favorite ex-roommies. But I digress.

Mmm...kissing...Ahem. Excuse me. To return to the conversation:

Me: Haha okay yeah! come on over!

Ahhh what do I do now! What if my parents wake up? How do I convince him that I'm cool even though we're at my parents' house?

And then I heard my dad upstairs, stirring around. He sensed it! It's the dad's secret weapon: the sixth sense to protect his precious daughters.

Dad: What's going on?

Me: haha oh dad, nothing, just you know, watching some Scrubs (mmmm Zach Braff) before bed!

Dad: Oh, okay...

Me: ...

Dad: ...

Me: (yeah, I feel guilty easily and am super close and honest with my dad, I am so a wannabe bad girl) So...can I go out tonight with D3?

Dad: I knew something was going on!

...Long story short, the "out" option was genius of mine. The key here is: don't wake the parents (at least the key to my parents. They have learned to not care** how late I come home as long as I don't wake them up). So he let me go out rather than having him come in.

...Other long story short. D3 and I had a very lovely time. Very friendly. Although, he did buy my drink at the 24-hour convenience store, and opened the car door for me - but woah woah, that's because I hesitated at the door by accident by juggling my stuff around and just admiring his new car.

I'm glad! Because I don't want to disrespect/hurt *this current guy I'm "seeing," who is probably the sweetest guy I know. And heck, D3 and I have very good conversation for some reason. I guess any two people who can hang out in a parked sports car from 12:30 to 2 in the morning in the 24-hour parking lot with words actually coming out of their mouths are pretty decent conversationalists.

**okay really, care less. care less with a LOT of worrying. And probably not a good night of sleep. At least on my dad's part.

More on Military Men

These past few weeks my crush that generally every girl has on a man in uniform has definitely become exponentially more serious.

Over spring break, one of my best and blondest girl friends went clubbing in DC (the night after we had just gone together) and met some cute boys there. They turned out to be marines, she had a fabulous time with them, and they invited her to come hang out with them on base. So on the last night of spring break I got a call: "Wanna go on an adventure??"

I was feeling melancholy because I had had no romantic adventures (thanks to D3 more or less standing me up...see Apple Pie below for more on that) over SPRING (see more on that below too!) break. I agreed to said adventure: "Heck yes!"

We drove and drove for a totally worthwhile time with these men who were so appreciative of female company that they were willing to you know, like, actually pay attention to us, and you know, like, treat us with respect.

They were cuddly while we were watching a movie and good leaders on the dance floor and clapped enthusiastically when we decided to sing "Friends in Low Places" for karaoke (yeah - ouch, bad choice).

And! When they said they would call us the next day, they actually did, even though I was back at school two hours away and they were back to training to defend our country.

Two weekends ago I returned to the DC clubs for another friend's totally glamorous - think leis, Wegman's catering, champagne toasts, and stretch Excursion limos - 21st birthday. We walked in our own private entrance (oh Fergie would be proud) and I turned to my friend: "I see military boys! I will dance with one of them by the end of the night!"

And so I did (I love being decisive). I think I sort of made the first move by dancing near him, catching eye contact, and moving in closer, but whatever. Somehow I - the ultimate non-feminist hater-of-forward-girls - have become an initiator. But I digress.

He was a fabulous dancer (the Naval Academy trains 'em well) and fun to laugh with on the techno floor, where the bass was so loud it took control of my heart beat. We exchanged numbers, I left him to find my friends, and he came up to say goodbye when it was time to leave. And then we texted pretty much the entire limo ride home. And he texted the next morning to say hello again!

Now, texting is not my favorite way of communication, but I'll take it. That is dedication to finding a girl and at least pretending to want to hold on to her for more than one night.

I've got a bluff for why these men are so gloriously manly.

At JMU, where at least 60% of the population is female, a guy seeing an attractive young lady is a multiple-times-a-day occurrence. I imagine they see something pleasing to the eye and think "Hmph. Great. Another hott girl. I'll wait to approach any of them 'til I find a drunk one though." (Okay, I embellished a little bit and did not give boys the benefit of the doubt. Regardless, there must be a sense of nonchalance).

In the marines or in Annapolis on the other hand, these poor guys are surrounded by, at the very least, probably 80% guys. So when they see a member of the fairer sex, they actually are in awe, or at least feel the need to appreciate them and really treat them as something special and precious - something to be revered.

Don't all girls deserve to be treated like that by all guys?

Then, last week, I was watching the news - of course I had read the headlines about the British marines and sailors being held captive and then freed by Iran - and saw a video of them arriving at Heathrow airport finally. The first thought by hormone-wired young-adult brain had was, "Oo military boys! With accents! So cute!"

And then it hit me. These boys who I have fallen in love with as a group are really men, who actually put themselves in danger, specifically to protect you and me, every day. I always knew in the back of my mind that guys my age are joining the military and that guys who join the military have to go overseas at some point to do the dirty work I don't like to think about. But I hadn't put the two - attraction and duty - together until that very moment.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. For your service...

And for knowing how to date/treat girls almost just about right.

'Make Another Apple Pie!' OR Why Boys are Confusing

Spring has sprung. I can tell, not just because of the baby doll dresses, puppies and Frisbees on the quad, but also because of the abundance of cute couples.

I was walking back from a dance concert last weekend with two guy friends (and residents. I’m an RA, so no one is allowed to be more than a friend anyway who lives in my dorm) and we passed at least four couples in a row. We didn’t see a single single person, but we did literally see eight people holding hands (not all together of course) in a row.

Obviously, I’m a hopeless romantic and generally go “aww” (either out loud or in my head, depending on the situation) when I see one of these intertwined beings. But seeing four couples in a row – that’s just pushing it.

And it’s not just a lame girl thing, either. The boys noticed it too, and brought it up before I did! “What’s up with all these couples?”

My good friend and former roommate had bluff. During the winter, these couples are hiding away, snuggling in blankets by fires. But now that it is warmer, they have come out to frolic!

How fabulous for the rest of us.

There’s a whole other side spring, though too. I remember two springs in a row, when I started to feel very itchy in my relationship. Boys generally somehow become more attractive in the spring, and both times I felt ready to break things off for no other reason than to date more people!

Last year, a friend and all the girls in her house who were in relationships broke up with or got broken up with in March. This year, she says, it's the same.

John Mayer’s (perfect boyfriend material by the way…stupid Jessica Simpson) song “St. Patrick’s Day” chronicles the love found in every holiday every month November through March. The kicker line, though, is “And we’ll both be safe ‘til St. Patrick’s Day.”

Clearly no one is safe any more – no matter what shield we may try to use!

D-hall Dinner Date was actually the first boy I’ve dated in a long time that I was actually interested in (sad, I know, but come on, there are only 40% at my school. And dating lame boys is more fun than not dating at all). Everything seemed to be going smoothly, and I was constantly humming John Mayer’s “City Love” or Ciara’s “C.R.U.S.H.” in my head.

There was no defining moment – I can’t blame it St. Patrick’s Day unfortunately – but things started to cool way down recently. I couldn’t figure out what happened, and he kept alternating between treating me like girlfriend and a friend who’s a girl. So I made a bold move, asking him as bluntly as possible (without sounding like a whiny second grader asking to check “yes” or “no”) whether or not he liked liked me. With a fairly obvious rejection, I mourned for a day for the relationship that would never get to bloom, and then got excited to move on (and be able to better focus on school work and the blog obviously).

Not two days later, he began to warm back up again: leaving me IMs, calling me (I couldn’t answer and didn’t return his call) and insisting I save for him a slice of apple pie that I had been making for my residents.

I had really tried to go into this hint of a relationship as sincerely as possible, with my clearest communication skills. And then I was shot down. And then I was picked back up, sort of. So I’m convinced he’s dating like five girls at the same time, he thinks I just make like, you know, a really cool friend, or he wants me to play hard-to-get.

Fine, D3, I’ll play your little game. After all, I now have the option of either being in a frolicking couple or noticing all the newly-single cute boys on campus – because it’s spring!

VD PS

My dad told me just now that my mom asked him to be her Valentine.

AND classes have already been cancelled tomorrow due to inclement weather.

There is hope in the world for love!

Valentine's Day

As the sign outside of our bookstore says, "Valentine's Day is coming. Consider yourself warned."

As one of my guy friends' away message has said for the past couple of days, "Valentine's Day is coming. ew."

As I say, "It's February! That means Valentine's Day! Yaaay I'm so excited!"

Although it is true I have very rarely had an official Valentine, I have always been a big fan of Valentine's Day. Although some say you should celebrate love year round, or that it is a fake Hallmark Holiday, I think it is a fun way to spice up the winter and show everyone, or anyone, that you care about them.

Last year my suitemates and I gathered a big group of guys and girls and went out to a fancy restaurant. One of the guys was maybe jokingly my valentine. Maybe it was a joke, I'm still not sure. When he gave me a card later that was quite poetic, I was sure it was for real. But when I reread the very lyrical and cryptic writing, I was pretty sure he was saying that he was not ready to be my valentine. Or something silly like that.

Two years ago I got diagnosed with mono on Valentine's Day. So technically I was home to visit my long-distance boyfriend, although smooching could not really ensue. The year before that, same boyfriend, different non-smooching circumstance: we had a choir performance on Valentine's Day.

The year before that (yes, this is going back four years ago; alllll the way back into high school!) I decided Valentine's Day was the day I was going to make a move on my English Class Crush at a basketball game as I danced at half time (he had been coming to the games every Friday). Instead, he was out and about with his real valentine, and some other guy I wasn't really interested made his move and we ended up vaguely dating for a while.

Probably in the years before that I was still in the "I'm going to wear black and act all emo and bitter about Valentine's Day" stage.

But if you bring it all the way back to elementary school, I was the girl the most excited about giving everyone valentines, even if I was nervous about giving the boys one (even though we were required to give one to everyone if we were going to give any at all!).

Valentine's Day! I love it I love it I love it. But the question is; does anyone ever seriously claim valentines? If you're not in a serious relationship, do you still ask a potential date to be a valentine?

Is this a planned but unspoken thing, as in you plan for a date on Valentine's Day?

Or is it more like a silly 7th-grade-dating thing, as in [in a nasally voice] "Will you be my Valentine?" and then never really do anything about it?

I have a friend who has an on-again-off-again (in the most dramatic and ridiculous sense of the term) boyfriend?guy-she's-dating?boy-toy?special-man-friend? who claims he totally seriously asked her to be his valentine.

I have guy friends who claim they will never even try to come close to making a move on a girl on or near Valentine's Day because the holiday has become to superstitiously bad for romance.

I have girl friends who on either end of the extreme; they cry all day on Valentine's Day because they don't have one, or they don't really notice that it is a special holiday.

D-hall Dinner Date went verrrry well last week, by the way. Much better than previous D3s. I'm thinking he could be a potential valentine! But I'm afraid to say so out loud. I just want to celebrate love - brotherly love; familial love; the potential for love - even if it is quietly by myself.

Well, if anyone wants to loudly announce it to the world with me, that's probably okay too.

LOVE! Happy Valentine's Day :)

The D-Hall Date

I mentioned in my last post that I've only ever been on one date in my college career (thus far...keeping my fingers crossed). This is not exactly true. Whether or not it is actually true, I guess, depends on your definition of a date.

According to dictionary.com, a "date" is
"7.a social appointment, engagement, or occasion arranged beforehand with another person: to go out on a date on Saturday night."

While this is true, I think the common use of the term connotes another key ingredient to this whole "dating" thing: feelings/hopes/assumptions of romance.

For many girls I know, whether or not to label a "social appointment" as a date also depends on location. The stereotype of a "real" date is found in movies, TV, and mostly nostalgic ideas of what the 1950s were like: boy meets girl; boy invites girl to dinner by candle light; boy pays for girl.

At JMU, I have arranged "social engagements" with an uncountable number of guys. Most of the time, both of us agree that it is not romantic in nature. A few times, the romance has been felt on one of our sides, but not the other. These are undoubtedly not anyone's ideal "date," not just because of the question of romance, but also the location.

Everyone has to eat, and everyone loves the gloriosity (yeah, so I made up a word, but it's worth it) of D-hall. I have lots of guy friends, and we go to dinner together at D-hall all the time. These are not a dates. D-hall, although lovable, is generally not the most romantic location. The boys do not pay, since I have my own meal plan to use. However, there have been a few occasions where the D-hall date has had the potential of being... a "real" "date."

The first one was my freshman year, via facebook/a mutual friend. He was an older man in an a cappella group (ohhh musicians), and was quite tall. We missed each other the first time, when I was running late and dragging friends with me out of fear of a horror-story situation. The second time, we actually met up, had a decent lunch, some flirting ensued afterwards (he had been in my building visiting the mutual friend while I was out, and they got on my computer and left me scandalous/flirty/hilarious messages via the post-it note program I have on my desktop), but then I never really heard from him after that. I guess it just fizzled. We still see each other awkwardly at random dance parties, where we kind of pretend like we're flirting and it's good to see each other, but we both know that's not really true.

Last year, I had the biggest crush on hottie-across-the-hall (for more recent stuff on him, please see old blog). After we had one particularly amazing night dancing together, we decided to go to dinner. As my suitemates could tell you, after we agreed on a night and time, I bounded into their room squealing like the annoying giddy girl I am. I actually got nervous and planned a cute outfit for this D-hall date. But we went, had sort of awkward conversation that was not at all parallel to the chemistry we shared on the dance floor, ran into hall mates that looked at us quizzically and then quickly began chiding us, and then parted ways after D-hall with no real conclusion or promise of continuation.

This year, I went with a facebook/aim admirer I had (yeah, these all sound like bad ideas, don't they?), against my better judgment. I actually tried to be as unattractive and annoying as possible, instead of just communicating clearly that I was not interested in dating him. Oh well.

And tonight....ohhhh tonight...I have a D-hall date with the cutie I met this weekend. I am nervous, and that is silly. I just hope it turns out better than my last three D-hall "dates."

Gentlemen...

...Where are they?

Supposedly they are either further south or are fighting overseas somewhere.

My mom and her coworker have been conspiring all over Winter Break to get me together with the coworkers "third son," who happens to be friends with my old coworker (who is my mom's coworker's son....are you following this?) and who also happens to be an ROTC boy at a big southern university.

I am not against finding more people to date, especially during what feels like a dry spell of not being constantly surrounded by other college students. However, the more these ladies I love were forcing this arrangement on me, the more uncomfortable I felt. Maybe unnatural is the better word. It felt unnatural to me - I want to be able to do my own dating dirty work!

We finally hung out in a group few nights ago, and yes, he was everything my mom promised he would be - even though I threw a tantrum before hand claiming that he went to a school so far away and since break is over in about three days it was "pointless." Yes, it was a silly argument - and maybe even more. The two boys paid for the three girls that were tagging along with them, and none of whom they were dating.

If that doesn't say southern gentlemanly charm, I don't know what does.

On the other hand, should I be so surprised? Shouldn't I expect, nay, demand such treatment?

I remember around this time last year I went on what may end up being my only real date of my college career. He opened the car door for me when he came to pick me up, when we got to the restaurant, and on the way back. I was flabbergasted, and wouldn't stop bragging to all my girlfriends about this rare find. Why don't more boys do this? And why do girls let the boys who don't get away with it? Should I blame it on women's lib? Yes, I would like a career and to be respected, but I would also like to feel special and dainty! Where is the balance?

This boy was from a slightly more southern city of Virginia and was as tall, if not taller, as ROTC boy, but there similarities end. What is it that makes these boys special? And what is it about them that does not get a spark out of me other than being impressed by their good manners?

I got slightly bored with door-opening boy after our like fifth date. And it was harder to tell with ROTC boy, since we were in a larger group, but I didn't feel an earth-shattering attraction to him like my mom promised I would (this is not to say he was unattractive. In fact, he was quite the hottie). Maybe I was closing myself off from him because of the potential long-distance thing. Or maybe it was the fact that the former coworker, who has a girlfriend, had me laughing up a storm all night.Why? Why didn't I latch on and hold on tight to either of these boys? Are there any musician/comedians who also have a gentlemanly side?

And most importantly, where do I find them? This is the source of all my troubles, and the thing me and my girlfriends talk the most about. Maybe if I wasn't such a girly girl I would actually surround myself with more new and exciting boys to play with.

Or maybe I'll just move south.