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.

------------
------------

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.