The care and feeding of your love life ♥

Marry Me

2011-10-31T15:26:00.000-05:00

I wish I had known about St. Vincent three years ago!

Marry me, John
Marry me, John I'll be so good to you
You won't realize I'm gone

Dear Dear Old Love, I love you.

2009-05-04T23:06:00.003-05:00

I read Dear Old Love pretty religiously.

But this video - this reading of the notes with pretty standard/eh acting - made me sob.

Something with the voice and music added to the sentiments. Bon Iver's Skinny Love at the end is the major kicker.

I try to be cool, I try to be logical. Overall, I think I'm doing a decent job. The last thing I want to do is put the pressure of a emotional girl on the shoulders of any boy I'm "dating." But somewhere, deep down, I'm still a sobbing, hopeless romantic relationship blogger.

A Dear John post (because):

2009-01-02T16:18:00.004-05:00

1. I have to move that two-posts-ago post down even further. Ew.
2. I need somewhere to word-vomit, and my Twitter isn't good for that any more because I have professional-types following me. They don't want to hear about silly cute boys.

Dear John,

You just called me. Just to chat. I was at work. We mindlessly chatted a bit. You told me you just had a lot of thoughts about "us" you wanted to tell me. I said I'm nervous! You said, don't worry, it's good. I said I can't concentrate at work and I'd call you on my walk to the train. You told me that's fine.

Now I'm nervous and jiggly and glancing at the clock every three seconds.

And hoping that this post will let me stop thinking about it and actually accomplish some work.

Love,
Heart

Like, oh my i/denti/tee

2008-12-11T22:47:00.001-05:00

I found this site via View from the Bottom (who I follow on Twitter @thegirlRiot, who I found because I was looking to follow fashion-tweeters? I think? Can't really remember!).

The point is, it's a pretty neat-o idea. There's music, there's fashion, and there's crowdsourcing. All good stuff I'm slightly obsessed with.

(That and keeping this blog updated. It's been a busy week for all of us - building-pass adventures for OhMyDrama and I, graduating college for OhMyGoodness (yay!!!) and workity work work for those other two amazing business women. But I do want to keep our awesome NaBloPoMo stream flowing steadily.)

I added to their database "I found a city love" from John Mayer to their database. I felt like I had a ton more in me, but couldn't think at the moment.

What would you want identitee to print on a t-shirt? There's definitely a difference between an awesome lyric and a witty tee, but they can live in harmony for sure. (heh, get it? harmony?)

Check out i/denti/tee, submit your idea, and let us know here, too!

What is the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach?

2008-11-24T20:47:00.002-05:00

Oh, yeah, it's jealousy.

OMG. Seriously. I'm about to write an actual coherent post on LOMB, but I had to get this out first.

Dear John,

I am so grossed out with myself right now. Let's see if I can describe this concretely, like I was trained so well in poetry class to do.

It started in my stomach. Butterflies isn't right, and it's also cliche. And "nervous" isn't concrete. But everyone knows what nervous feels like, right?

Well it started as nerves, in the outer film of my stomach, but seeped deep and rose high to my throat really fast. Except once it was in my throat, it sort of felt feverish. My eyes blurred a little bit, and I got a mini-chill.

I wanted to throw my laptop at the wall. But instead of moving the offending thing from my eyes, I kept clicking through - looking at picture after picture.

I'm talking about Facebook stalking, of course. Of you. On a "semi-formal" sort-of-maybe date. With another girl.

Well, duh, of course it would be another girl. And technically - technically!! - this is a-okay. Perfectly acceptable. Definitely encourageable, actually! I, of course, tried to rationally tell one of my other girlfriends this when she was apalled at her ex's Facebook pictures with other girls. "It's his right! You broke up with him!" I told her in a text message. She did not text me back. I wonder why.

Because she had this god-awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Because even though she (we, totally we, especially me) - because we're hott and girls and selfish humans and OH SO WORTH IT - are allowed to date, flirt, and otherwise online stalk other boys...our exes are SO not.

Because even though I traveled to Philly for a sleepover date, made out sloppily with a hottie mchotterson in public on Halloween, was surprised I didn't get a kiss at the end of my date last night, and am actively flirting with like 20389471 different guys, YOU, of course, are not allowed to do any of these things.

Because even though YOU broke up with ME, you obviously must be pining away over me. On the other side of the country. Like an a-sexual being. Because any woman after me is just a mere girl. Or something.

Well this is just silly. Because I am a 21st Century woman. And I love you (in all definitions of the word). And I am above all these games (sort of). I am mature with high, but realistic expectations about our "future" and our "relationship." We're on the freakin opposite sides of the country, for cryin' out loud, and we're human.

So I won't point out that she's not that cute (well, actually, she's adorable, but I could make up stuff I don't like her if I wanted to). I won't point out that we had a fantastically away-message leaving conversation over the weekend (barf). I won't point out that you broke up with me because you didn't know how you felt about relationships.

(Oops.) Instead, I'll blame it on Facebook, and how I jump all over conclusions and get all upset for absolutely no reason.

And I'll take back my thought process I had last time I was dancing with a cute boy. Because we had mutual friends there, and those mutual friends were taking pictures. Of me. Being dipped. By said cute boy. Tons of fun! And I thought, "I hope they put this on Facebook. And I hope Dear John gets jealous."

I take back that thought process because I really don't hope that. Jealousy is rare for me, and now I know why it's a deadly sin. It feels horrible. I wouldn't wish this uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach on my worst enemy (my poetry teacher would be really annoyed with how many cliches I've stuck in here). And you're not my worst enemy. Far from it.

Much love,
Heart

(I just wish I did know what you are. Not that it should matter. Just like not that I should feel jealous. Should, should, should. Blah.)

Lyrics

2008-10-19T22:50:00.003-05:00

Dear John,

There are a lot of good breakup songs. And there are a lot of different styles to them. And I've learned recently that most of the ones written by girls - even really talented ones, like the Corrs - end up sounding super whiny. And as I and my cohort have started writing awesome lyrics ourselves, I am very conscious of sounding too whiny.

But I keep listening to a ton of music in general and I keep realizing how many of them are breakup songs. Especially those by John Mayer (my fav). Now, I am convinced that like 90% of his songs are about Lydia (who I named my GPS device after for some reason), but that's another story.

This story is about Split Screen Sadness, and how I think it's the closest a breakup song will come to our situation. Every situation is unique, of course, but every breakup does involve well...heartbreak. So it's always easy to relate. But John hit me hard just now:

One hand on the trigger of a telephone
Wondering when the call comes
Where you say it's alright
You got your heart right

Now that we chat - i mean, uh, have super-deep conversations via AIM. Really? AIM? Yes. I mean, I guess I'm blogging to you, so I can't really complain about textual conversation channels - occasionally enough, I sort of crave talking to you more. I am always tempted to call, but don't know if that's...."allowed."

One of my friends and I were commiserating literally the day after our breakup, and he said something like "Oh yeah, do not call him. I called the SHIT out of whatsherface when we broke up. It just doesn't look good." I just think that's a hilarious way to put John's beautiful telephone-trigger image. What is the best way to use that weapon? When will you use it to your advantage? Will you use it on me?

All you need is love is a lie cause
We had love but we still said goodbye
Now we're tired, battered fighters
And it stings when it's nobody's fault
Cause there's nothing to blame at the drop of your name
It's only the air you took and the breath you left

These lines are the worst for me, because I - and I know you too - are a huge believer in "all you need is love." My definition for that though must be shifting to sort of a general "love your neighbor" love, not romantic love. The same way I think 1Corinthians 13 is taken out of context.

It is so easy for my girlfriends to blame each others' exes. And bitch about how lame and ugly they were. And I know it is all to build up the girlfriends. But, just to let you know, I fought with them this weekend for you. I yelled at them, explaining your virtues and kindness and love. Because really, our breakup wasn't either of our "faults." It was distance. And it was timing. And it is confusion and definitions and maturity levels and life changes and exploration and youth.

"If I could I would punch timing in the face" is the little ditty-saying I had stuck in my head for a month after our breakup. It's being replaced by other tweet-ables, but it still makes sense. We share the silence.

Love,
Heart

Possible reveal

2008-10-15T22:46:00.002-05:00

I've been watching too much HGTV, mostly because it's all my mom watches. All the designers in their little Disney Channel-esque interludes (remember those? "Disney Channel stars are just like you!" except they are famous actors. No big deal. But anyway!) between shows talk about how they love "the reveal!" Anyway...now that the possibly witty intro to this post got butchered by too many asides...

Dear John,

I gave you the link to my other blog tonight. In a differently related context. And maybe you're curious enough to wander over to this one. Maybe you're not.

If you are here - hello! I had played with the idea of giving you this link all along. And I'm not really ashamed of any of my whinings. And sort of proud of my growings, not in a small part to this blog/other journal entires/lyrics I have written.

If you do not come by, it's just as well.

And that brings us to the age-old: if a tree falls in a forest...

Love,
Heart

Shopping therapy

2008-10-08T20:33:00.003-05:00

Dear John,

It's taken me five weeks, but I finally shopping therapy-ed post-breakup.

I went in to DSW for a pair of shoes for the wedding I'm going to this weekend, but I came out with three pairs of tights, two handbags (one was free though and for my mom), a pair of sneaker-flats (that you would think are indie-rad, probably), and a pair of wedding-appropriate shoes.

I call that a success, even though I tried on a bunch of cute winter-y hats and I couldn't make my puffy hair look good under them.

Remember when we went shopping together? I think I had more fun than with you than I have had with many of my girlfriends. It's probably because my gfs don't try to sneak into dressing rooms with me and act on thinking my outfits are sexy.

I still want these Toms boots, and I love-hate that you introduced me to the do-good Toms brand.

Love,
Heart

Vegas

2008-09-19T00:30:00.003-05:00

Dear John,

When I invited you to come see me this weekend - still a good four hour drive from where you are, but probably the furthest West I'll be in a good, long while - I never expected you to come. I told myself I was just being playful.

Though you said you probably couldn't, you at least feigned interest and that surprised and delighted me!

But today, when you officially told me you couldn't make it, but seemed so disappointed about it, it hit much harder than I expected -

Especially when I walked through a beautiful photo gallery and all I could think of was the West and the outdoors and watching Planet Earth and wanting to share it all with you.

Especially when I ate at the Hard Rock and every band on the walls and on the video screens reminded me of the amazingness of music, which reminded me of you ("And I'd give up forever to touch you" may be the best opening lyrics of a song ever. Goo Goo Dolls? I'm not even that crazy about them. Those lyrics just stopped me in my business in the bathroom at Hard Rock though).

Especially when I walked the Strip and all I could hope was that this wasn't everything. That not everyone was satisfied with merely gaudy distraction.

It hurts the most though right now - in the form of sniffles and stupid tears on my stupid cheeks - in a cold hotel room (which I love! Truly!), attempting to substitute at least "one" more night of you holding me with a hoody and fluffy socks. It's not warm enough.

Love,
Heart

P.S:

I fear air conditioning.

Even though I feel so lonely, and I'm cradling my phone in my hand, knowing how lucky I am to have so many people who would pick up and talk to me, no matter how late it is on the home coast, I only really want to talk to you. What does that mean? Love? Lust? Fear? Intimacy? Loneliness?

Wellp

2008-09-13T20:05:00.005-05:00

Dear John,

Now we talk all the time. On AIM, of course, which is not my favorite serious conversation communication channel, but I'll use it. To talk to you, probably mostly.

It's nice to know you didn't want to cut me out of your life. But now it's harder for me to know what to do.

I still think you're probably going to be an eternal bachelor of the rogue musician/philosopher/mystic/Brahman sort (I could imagine you as any of those, really). (And, I mean all of those as a compliment.)

Now I know you don't believe in relationships. Or, you don't understand why they are what everyone kind of strives for. I don't really know why either, but I know I do want one (I think). And I believe that if everyone is essentially looking for love - generally, it's the monogamous relationship kind - then relationships must essentially be good.

So, the point is, if you ever feel like having a best friend+lover (my personal definition of a relationship), with or without a culturally-prescribed definition, you know where to find me. I - in perfectly stupid girl fashion - would probably drop everything to get to spend time with you.

Love,
Heart

Feeling better

2008-09-08T20:53:00.002-05:00

Dear John,

I am feeling...great today. I shaved my legs, put on a skirt, swished my hips a bit on the way to work, never once even thought about sobbing, and stopped myself short when I realized I wasn't thinking about you (but then it started me thinking about you but you know...).

I can't really figure out why! Here are some bluffs:

Gossip Girl was on tonight, and I was looking forward to extreme (gross? on-too-early-in-primetime? HIGHschool?) sexiness all day
Coffee for the first time in a few days
I danced yesterday
I signed up for a Pilates fusion class with my mom
I saw some hott girls last night
One particularly hott one gave me super-good ice cream therapy Saturday night
Uhhh... I talked to you on the phone yesterday

Yeah. It was great talking to you. Except, I freaked out when you actually answered (expecting voicemail) and we talked about music for half an hour, since I couldn't remember what I wanted to tell you, and then you had to go.

And I feel kind of bad that I feel SO MUCH BETTER after talking to you. Woooosh that huge boulder of I'll-never-see-you-again-my-life-is-ruined-what-are-you-doing-with-your-life-how-are-you-feeling-without-me finally flew off of my shoulders. Probably to land on one of my other of what seems like hundreds of girlfriends that have recently been broken up with.

Even though we didn't get to finish our conversation (and I was too chicken to say everything I really wanted to), I feel almost no desire to talk to you today. I am feeling extremely confident and you know, if you want to talk to me, you can.

(So I'll be here. Sitting online. Waiting for you to IM me. You know, if you're interested. No big deal. I'm confident.)

Stream of consciousness from sitting outside as it began to rain

2008-09-05T19:06:00.005-05:00

Dear John,

I don't think I've had conversations with anyone that were as intelligent, philosophical, and exciting as ones with you. Outside of an academic setting, at least.

I have this yearning to re-connect to nature, to contemplate God, but I still sort of want to do it with you by my side. Or at least to be able to return to you after I have contemplated. And we could share what we learned and combine forces.

I am turning into a music snob! Oh no!

You said you think change is like a death, where you have to leave some things behind completely. Please don't leave me in your last life.

I am dying to call you. (This feeling is so similar to the same longing to talk to you when we were still together but you were on the other side of the country that sometimes I think it's the same, dull pain that has allowed me to survive this week.) But I don't want to appear...however. I've been waiting for news of a possible job that would move me your way or to finish this book that I think you would like. You know, to have a reason to call you. But I am too impatient to wait for either. And I am scared that you will completely ditch memories of me before that time comes.

I think I've grown out of instant messaging, but I sign on just to get a glimpse into your life. Though your one-worded away message that hasn't changed in days doesn't really help much.

Whining. It's not flattering on me. I should try writing lyrics or something instead.

Lyrics

2008-09-05T15:36:00.005-05:00

Dear John,

I already had started to become obsessed with Something Corporate right before we started dating. I think Pandora introduced me. And then after our first date, I was so giddy and "Punk Rock Princess" became my favorite song, you musician, you.

Later, after I started my job and then you moved, I just felt sad every single time we talked on the phone and "Down" became number one. As soon as our conversation veered towards actually breaking up a week ago, the same song automatically popped into my head.

Let's get drunk
You can drive us to the harbor
Wish upon a star
But do you know what stars are?
Balls of fire
Burning up the black space
Falling from the landscape
Exploding in the face of god.

Lets get crazy
Talk about our big plans
Places that you're going
Places that I haven't been.

This line always spoke to me. You've been everywhere, and I felt like a sheltered little brat. But I was so excited to go on a moving adventure with you. Which, of course, now may have come to a halt.

Build my walls up
Concrete Castle
keep this kingdom
free of hassle yeah.

I hear sound echo in the emptiness
All around but you can't change their loneliness
Look what you've found
I've fallen down.

Ahhh this chorus. So beautiful. I always try to sing it - usually when I get off the train on my way home and I'm walking to my car parked alone on the third floor - but for some dang reason I can't get the rhythm right and it always sounds funny in my voice!

Taste the saline
Rolling down your cheekbone
Tell me that you're alone
Tell me on the telephone
Feel your heart
It breaks within your chest now.
Try to get some rest now
Sleeps not coming easy for a while
Child

I never could figure out why I ended every one of our phone conversations, even when you were only an hour and a half away, in sobs. It was either:

I am a huge slut and can't deal with not touching you
You were really bad at phone conversations? (not really)
They always turned super-philosophical and I felt like an idiot
I just super-miss(ed) you

I think these lyrics kind of tease it out: I'm telling you that I'm alone...on the telephone. It's still being ... alone. Bah.

I hear sound echo in the emptiness
All around but you can't change this loneliness
Look at what you've found
I've fallen down.

Jason Mraz

2008-09-05T14:54:00.000-05:00

I re-discovered the gloriosity of Jason Mraz today. I sort of used him to get through my last breakup, and when he showed up on my "Heal" Jango mix I made at work, I sighed and settled my way back into a celebrity crush.

1. Who doesn't love videos with cheesy musical-like choreography?
2. His lyrics? So amazing.
3. He's from Virginia!
4. He moved to SAN DIEGO!
5. Um, his Website is HILARIOUS. Just go to it. I can't rely describe his perfect sense of humor ("You better better keep that ish wrapped up tight so you don't catch MEDIA" ha-ha).
6. NEW CELEBRITY CRUSH (since everyone rejected my crush on John Mayer, I guess he's too sketch-tastic now).

Hehe

2008-09-04T15:06:00.003-05:00

Dear John,

Can you believe it? They actually write funny, tongue-in-cheek break-up songs. Ohhh G. Love.

Remember that time you sent me a picture message after not talking to me for days of your car parked at the curb outside your work and the caption "city living na nah na nah nah." I thought at first you were taunting me in a mean way - a "you aren't here yet and I'm way cooler than you for living in the city ha-ha" kind of way. But wasn't I smart? And I didn't jump to mean conclusions. I suspected they were lyrics, and I was right. And I discovered G. Love. So thank you for that.

People say
You're gonna fall in and out of love all the time
People say
That it don't come easy
But you sure came easy on me oh my
Look at me
Still hangin' 'round
Still hangin' 'round
Ooo baby I'm still around

Scandalous, G. Love, scandalous. And I like it.

(Except that you/I can't hang around, cuz we're on opposite sides of the country. Boo. I guess I shouldn't try to live vicariously through songs anyway.)

RANDOM crap

2008-09-04T10:02:00.003-05:00

Dear John,

I am annoyed with the random things that are making me think of you today!

What catalyzed this post/letter was closing out the folder I labeled "complicated" on my desktop. It's complicated because it has something to do with work and videos and converting them. But as I closed it, I thought about the "It's complicated" label on facebook, and how silly it was and how much of stir it caused when they introduced it as a possible relationship status.

Then I thought, well, doesn't that accurately describe my situation?

I've also always jumped straight back to "single" the very few times I've actually had to break up a facebook relationship (because everyone knows facebook tells all), and this was the first time I didn't click the "end relationship" button because, well, I was out of town without a computer when it happened between us.

But right now I just have the relationship status part of my profile mysteriously "hidden," like so many of girlfriends have it all the time - which used to frustrate me. Now I think blankness is the closest I can accurately describe my "relationship" situation.

ANYWAY. It made me remember the last time you broke up with a girlfriend (you serial-monogomist-turned-non-believer-in-relationships, you) and how my roommate and one of my friends went out of their way to give me the heads up.

"Heart!!! Have you checked facebook yet this morning?" asked my roommate at like 8am.

"Uhh no, why?"

"John. He's single! Weeeee!"

"Omg, Heart," read my friend's text, "I just checked my facebook and you'll never guess who showed up on my mini-feed as single! John! Go for it girl!"

I wasn't even 100% sure of my crush on you and everyone else already saw it.

So today, what other girls are gleeful at your newest update?

Love,
Heart

PS: Stirring sugar into my coffee this morning also reminded me of you, because you taught me to not tear the packets all the way open, since single-pieces of trash are better for the landfills or something. What the CRAP, heart?!

Pet hair makes me cry

2008-09-03T20:43:00.004-05:00

Dear John,

I was doing really well today.

Unpacking was way easier than I thought. But then I came across my suit skirt.

I went to hang it up, and then I noticed the pet hair on it from lying on your make-shift bed. Fido, Rex and Princess** are so smart. They nudged between us when we weren't touching. They buried their heads into our legs and licked at the salt on our skin when we finally were.

Even though I only met them twice, I miss them so much too. One of the weird things about breaking up is that "missing" anything and everything always seems irrational, but is there nevertheless.

Love,
Heart

**No, these are not their names. Not even their genders, actually, though I'm not sure why I'm protecting the identity of animals.

I want my own puppy I think.

Forever

2008-09-03T18:45:00.005-05:00

Dear John,

I just yelled at a diamond commercial.

It was one of those nice ones too - not the overly cheesy ones that pop up around Christmas, Valentine's Day and Mother's Day - where the young couple walks around the old couple who are holding hands, only to rejoin their hands on the other side. The hands have diamonds, like duh, but that's not the point.

The point is that I no longer believe in their tagline:
"There are only two things that last longer than a [lifetime? I actually can't remember this word]. Diamonds are one of them."

Ahhh I've been a hopeless romantic my entire life, even while watching my parents argue and after struggling with a really rough break up with my last "love." But I chalked it up to bad communication for the former and immaturity for the latter, and reestablished my faith in love.

Then I found you and jumped into love so fast. We Indian soul-gazed, you wrote songs about me, we spoke the words, we discussed moving cross-country and into our own place together. I guess I assumed that the only guy who would ever suggest all that would be someone as crazy and faithful in love as I was.

Changes, changes, timing, timing (if I could I would punch timing in the face for me and all the pain it has caused me and all my girlfriends) and poof, now we're apart. Does that mean we're no longer in love? We said the words at the last possible seconds before our separation. And we'd been talking for weeks about how we didn't get to fully explore our love.

So why give up on it so soon? Why not give it a chance? Maybe, as you believe, we would have broken up eventually - whether it was a year down the year or thirty. Maybe love isn't forever. Or maybe true (Godly?) love is, but flawed human love is.

Regardless, I yelled at a commercial. If there were a ballet or a Hollywood movie in front of me, I would also yell at it. Because love still messes crap up. And I hate that, possibly because of marketing, my standards, hopes and dreams were so high.

Dear John**

2008-09-03T13:06:00.002-05:00

Ah, the perfect way to resurrect Care and Feeding from it's untimely death from the lashing, mouthy wit and too-hott-to-handle hands of Like, Oh My Blog:

A break up.

Boo, hiss.

I was thinking of creating a whole new blog, but why bother? Care and Feeding - weak and breathless as it may be right now - is probably the perfect outlet for Dear John.

I also was thinking of making Dear John letters REALLY GOOD, so good that I could become another blogger with a book deal. I could be all Carrie Bradshaw and even better because I could find a creative outlet and a career in a time of pain and confusion.

But I don't know if I can really - if I'm being true to my feelings and what I would actually say to John** - pull that off. These letters will all probably be pretty whiny, and a lot will be analysis of lyrics, because that's what I do. I get too wrapped up in other's words.

Also, I was thinking back to my last break-up, and I could hardly remember it. What hurt the most at that moment of realization was that in a few years time, I can be in the exact same place I am now:

Totally upset about Boy XYZ, and having forgotten all about John. Now, is that fair to John? Does it allow me to grow? Or will I keep making the same mistakes?

**No, duh, his name is not John. Very far from it. Also, try this irony on for size: John broke up with me. And he did it in a very, very nice and considerate and somehow sexy way. So I am not breaking up with him with these letters, just loving and thinking and trying to grow. Maybe one day I'll even share with him the link.

Following in the Family Tradition?

2008-07-01T10:39:00.002-05:00

My parents met at work oh say, about 27 years ago. They dated for about three months until my dad's job got transferred to Orlando (they were in Virginia).

Well, it had only been three months, so they decided to break up. He was moving after all, they didn't want to do long distance, and the "timing" just seemed all wrong. Had they been dating any longer, maybe they would have considered an alternate solution. But both of them had stable jobs - just on different parts of the coast. Why worry about taking care of each other when they had to be in different places just to take care of themselves?

Within a month of being separate, they knew something was wrong. My mom was crying her eyes out every night. My dad sort of dated around but all the women seemed sketchy and lame, since it seemed the only thing to do in Orlando was bar hop.

Within two months, my dad was back up north, visiting family for Thanksgiving. But here is where their stories get a little muddy. My dad says they were engaged by November, but my mom doesn't remember being engaged during the Holidays - she said he asked her to marry her in February (Valentine's day? cute). They got married in May, so either three months or six months after they got engaged, and around a year after they started dating.

Later, my dad explained to me the confusion: he had made up his mind by November. Everything had been cleared up in his head, in his relationships, and his prayers: he knew he wanted to build a life with my mom by November.

Now I don't know what happened between knowing and asking (and even once he asked, according to my mom, there was no ring for a few weeks, a thing that all her girlfriends stupidly whined about). And I know this was 1981 and not 2008. And I know my mom was 25 and my dad was 27. And who knows what the difference in the definition of "marriage" is between then and now (that's a complicated enough topic for a whole separate blog!). And I know they have not had anywhere close to a perfect marriage.

But I DO know that I want to be with the bf. And I DO know that he invited me to move cross-country with him. And I DO know - and am confident in - the definition of love. And now I really know (and am not confused anymore) why my parents sort of support me (none of my friends believe my parents would let me do this).

(As long as I go into this with a clear head and open and honest communication and smarts) So do the other unknowns really matter all that much?

Music&Lyrics

2008-06-20T09:53:00.003-05:00

I love wondering about lyrics. How, exactly, did the writers come up with the idea?

I remember reading an interview with John Mayer, where he was asked who, exactly, his songs were about? He said they were a mixture of experiences with other girls. I thought that was an interesting, surprising, but definitely believable answer.

When I presented that tid-bit to my boyfriend, he said "That's a cop-out. But do you think he would really call out actual girls names? I'm sure he has multiple songs all about one girl."

So when you're boyfriend's a musician, and he sends you lyrics in an email because you're sort of long-distance, and they seem like maybe sort of they're about you, how do you react? I don't want to assume anything, but I do want to praise him and feel flattered.

I dated this guy for like a second freshman year who was also a musician. He played open mic night all the time, and every time I went with my friend, there was always this one song that made us look at each other suspiciously because it sounded so much like me. I thought it awfully bold and quick of him, since you know, we dated for only a second. So one day my friend asked him if it was, in fact, about me. He scoffed and was like "Um, no. I have dated other girls."

Okay, so my bf is clearly like, totally waaay more rad than this kid. But still, the point is I don't want to assume. The point is, how vain am I really by thinking his lyrics could be about me?

Like, OhMyBlog!

2008-06-18T16:07:00.001-05:00

Do it.

http://likeohmyblog.blogspot.com

(Well, maybe don't do it yet. Wait until we finally get a couple posts up there. But my friends and I are more hilarious when we're together, just you wait and see).

Dreams DO Come True!

2008-06-16T19:59:00.002-05:00

When I was just a girl, I had to do something to keep myself entertained on my family's 6-hour car drives to the beach. Since I'm a hopeless romantic, I day-dreamed about the range of boys I saw in the cars we passed on I-95.

I imagined that they would spot me, as equally bored and wistful as they were, and be amazed at me and all my 12-year-old scrawny glory. So naturally, they would hold a sign up to the window of their car with their phone number. Now, back in those days we didn't have cell phones, which just increased the melodramatic-ness of the situation, for I would have had to wait until I got home from vacation to talk on the phone to my lover.

Aw.

I (sort of) out-grew that little day dream, especially since it's so technologically passe. (Last time I shared this day-dream with friends, they imagined someone throwing their cell phone out their window into yours! So that you could put your number into it! That just sounds dangerous to me. Hmm...)

I had dinner last night with one of my lovely loving friends, and she said she had a good boy story, but that it was kind of weird, and she hoped I didn't think she was a horrible person.

She was driving on, whatdoyaknow, I-95 when she noticed she was keeping pace with a crazy SUV darting in and out of the lanes. When she thought SUV, she thought soccer mom, crazy old man, or high schooler who just got her license. But when she happened to glance at the driver, it was a cute guy! They flirted as they weaved in traffic, and after about three or four glances, he actually...held up a sign!!

It wasn't a phone number, though. It was better: "You are beautiful."

After losing and finding each other again, the next sign was his phone number. They've been talking almost every day and are making plans to meet up. Whatdoyaknow, he actually lives close by to her - even though anyone could be driving on 95!

There is hope for love in this world!

Sex and the City

2008-06-12T21:58:00.002-05:00

It's almost cliche how much that fabulous show and now movie have become an icon to represent young women's dating lives. It's a guilty pleasure of mine, but I'm not so sure why I feel guilty.

A poignant quote from tonight's rerun on the CW:
"Saying I love you is easy. What comes next is a little scrunchier."

My immediate thoughts afterwards:

ew! Scrunchies!
Aw, so true.
Man, I love my boyfriend.
I can't believe that I have a boyfriend.
I want to see that movie again.
I want to blog more about SATC.
I miss New York.
ew! Scrunchies!

Girl Crush

2008-06-11T22:00:00.002-05:00

I - I don't know, judge me if you must - develop a lot of girl crushes. There was one today on the metro. She was wearing the cutest little shift dress, with sandals just like the ones I bought yesterday, and similar curly hair to mine, but much shorter (maybe my crushes come purely from vain). But! So out of character for me, she had a huge tattoo on her arm. Not quite a full sleeve, but definitely not cover-up-able. She also was sporting the cutest indie-chic big, bulky headphones, kind of bopping her head to the music a bit.

Actually, when I saw her, I thought "this is the kind of girl my boyfriend would LOVE." I don't even know how I could assume that - except for the fact he's a hippie-ish music lover with a tattoo - but I did. And annoyingly - and also so out of character for me - I began to feel insecure. Like me, the conservative Christian girl who would never ever get a tattoo and occasionally enjoys Top 40, should never deserve his indie-open-loving affection.

I dated this guy freshman year for like two seconds who was a pretentious musician wannabe. He was skinnier than me and thought smoking cigarettes would be good for his image and one of the other guitar-players on our hall called him a "whore" because he tried to play his guitar for anyone at anytime. A million girls had crushes on him and I could feel the hearts breaking around me when he played at the campus open-mic. At the time, I was proud that he "picked" me. But I was also weirded out - what would a guy like him want with a silly, preppy, conservative girl like me?

I've always said that I don't have a type. Maybe others stick to their types less, and I should stop stereotyping and start enjoying.

Brilliant Thoughts ... by My Dad

2008-06-09T20:36:00.001-05:00

"Love is almost too precious to take the chance of giving it up."

Isn't he great?

Leaving... by Giselle

2008-06-07T10:14:00.006-05:00

I know Giselle from dance (get the pseudonym yet? No?) and work. Together, we are a creative force not to be messed with. And talk about boys a little too much. I love her! You should love her too.

I’m not sure if it’s because my iPod is full of shaggy haired boys playing slow acoustic guitar and singing about unrequited love or if it’s because I had just left a certain shaggy haired, guitar playing boy behind...but I could not find a single song on my long drive home from Harrisonburg tonight that made me happy.

Who am I kidding, the latter is most definitely the reason for that.

For my fellow fans of The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, you might recall Lena and Kostos’ meeting in Greece at the end of the final book, Forever in Blue. Kostos is Lena’s ‘person’. You know, the someone you can’t get past despite anyone else…

…Sound familiar to anyone? Anyone?

Sorry, I digress.

Life had separated the two for months, and when they finally chance meet again, it’s the day before Kostos has to leave the country. They spend the night in their special place- an orchard at the top of the village- and when the sun starts to rise in the morning and they hold each other for the last time, he whispers to her a word in Greek that she doesn’t understand.

“κάποια”.

Lena seaches every English/Greek dictionary she can find, she asks her grandparents, her cousins, her aunts and uncles, but no one seems to know the word that she means.

Finally, on her last day in Greece she finds it in an old dictionary.

“Someday”.

Did I expect anything like that? Oh no.

But I can’t decide what I DID expect.

Experience and reason should leave me without expectation when it comes to this boy. But experience and reason should have taught me a LOT about him, and without fail, despite experience…and reason…something always brings me back to him.

Today was full of packing and loading and hauling and moving…so needless to say, by 7:00 tonight I was physically exhausted. And then there was the packing and loading and hauling and moving help that I received from shaggy haired, guitar playing boy- the very same shaggy haired, guitar playing boy who left my bed earlier that morning with a kiss goodbye- but when everything was packed and loaded and hauled and moved, and it came down to the ACTUAL goodbye, the REAL ending, I got a one armed hug and a “see you when you visit the beach this summer”. Now, I didn’t expect much, but I expected more that that.

… needless to say, by 7:00 tonight I was emotionally exhausted.

I sat across from my mom at Applebees, picked at my salad and tried not to cry. And after a while of staring at my pathetic-ness she said, “When did you become such a wimp? What in this 2-year-long friendship, or relationship or whatever makes it impossible for you to say how you really feel? That’s not you.” And of course, she’s right.

With Chicago Boy last summer, I promised myself I wouldn’t get attached.

Sound familiar?

I promised to let it be a physical thing only.

Sound familiar?

I promised to not expect anything and go with the flow and let what happened happen.

Sound familiar?

And then came the end of the summer, and the anxiety of leaving him behind, and knowing I didn’t want to be without him and having the conversation I knew I had to have and the resulting relationship and that was me. That was me telling him how I felt and getting what I wanted and being real.

But for some reason I cant say those things to Shaggy Boy. I can’t even ask him to say those things or prompt him to say anything at all. I never say anything I want to say or anything I mean. And I don’t know if it’s because I never know where I stand, or because I think I know where I stand and it’s not where I want to be standing, or because I think I’m more invested than he is or what, but I didn’t say anything. I drove away from JMU for the summer and from him for who knows how long and I pretended to be content with that one armed hug, and despite attempts to drown my sorrows in a Sheetz milkshake and cheese fries, I cried all the way up 81.

So here it goes- what I might have said if I had any courage or any faith or any hope:

“Maybe, κάποια?”

I obviously think this guy is lame. You should too...

One of the weird things about being in love

2008-06-06T13:11:00.002-05:00

Is that all those really crappy Top 40 songs that you used to roll your eyes at or made you turn away and shutter ... now you love. And turn the volume knob clockwise to "blast." Only when you're alone, of course, because if your lover knew you felt that way (about the song, not him) it would just be awkward. And your friends would think you're just bragging.

But really, you're just enjoying the endorphins of being in love.

Sensitive Boys ... by Island Girl

2008-04-23T10:32:00.004-05:00

Island Girl is one of my best friends from high school and we've been lucky enough to remain close and at the same college. I love her! You should love her too:

Call it a tragedy, but I always fall for sensitive boys. They tell me their feelings and we frolic in the land of emotion together. Eww. It's disgusting, and sadly I think I've subconsciously programmed myself to hone in on these boys.

It makes sense though. Women were created to be nurturers; we are loving and caring creatures. Attentive to the problems of the weary and the sad in spirit. Call me a Suzie Sunshine, but I love making people happy, cheering up their day, and putting a smile on their face.

Sensitive nice guys love this about women like myself and whether or not they know it, they enjoy it selfishly. I can't generalize, but most sensitive guys I've come across are only concerned about one thing- using you as an outlet to express their problems and feelings.

Obviously they can't express their feelings to their bros because that'd be emasculating, so they come running to the Suzie Sunshine in their life, pull up a chair, bring the tissues and dish.

I asked one of my good girl friends why she thought I was attracted to these kind of guys and why they were to me.
"You're a problem solver. You like to fix things. Guys come to you with their problems, you listen and offer advice."

ah-ha! So, those sensitive guys fill my need to be needed and I fill their need to be listened to. It seems so simple and black and white, but feelings always get involved and mix things up.

Prime example:

I had developed a friendship/relationship with this guy and we became pretty close. Our friendship developed during a time when he was having a hard time with his emotionally void girlfriend and I provided an outlet for his emotional needs.

This was the perfect situation for a Suzie Sunshine like me: This boy needed me! I loved being able to be there for him. Needless to say, I fell hard for this boy.

This went on for three months; then, nothing.
He broke up with his girlfriend, which I coached him through (ugh, so pathetic, I know), and all of a sudden, he didn't need me anymore.

humph.

Being the emotionally eager individual I am, I didn't realize his selfish demeanor until he IM'ed me last night

emotionally needy boy: we never talk anymore :(

(a month and a half since we've talked)

We talked about HIS day, how HE was doing, how stressful school was going for Him, etc. Common theme: All we talked about was him. Honestly, not once in an hour and a half did he ask a single question about me.

I'm not mad at him, or the situation. I just think its funny and maybe a little eye opening. Don't get me wrong, I don't think he was intentionally being selfish, but I certainly don't want to play these games anymore, it's too emotionally frustrating.

I love forming emotional connections with the opposite sex, but it comes with dangerous territory.
My problem now is this: how do I emotionally connect with a guy in a way that doesn't drag me down or better yet, how do I stop emotionally investing in someone who won't invest back?

Guest Bloggers...

2008-04-23T10:23:00.002-05:00

...Seem to be the perfect solution until I graduate and don't have homework any more and can actually be a good, consistent blogger.

Plus I'm trying to figure out how I actually want to write about my new man, or if I want to, and he knows I write one and I challenged him to find it. So, he's probably reading it like right....now.

Maybe by reading how crazy my friends are about boys you'll understand how we all fuel each other.

Act Like a Man

2008-04-21T00:40:00.002-05:00

I love stumbling across blogs, written by people as nerdy and excited about one topic as I am.

Edward Keenan's Act Like a Man blog is an interesting read. Basically, his goal is to get "guys" to well...do the title.

Why do so many "guys" prefer not to be called "men," and shirk their responsibilities and be less romantic and miscommunicate with the girls they crush on? I always blamed it on the rise of feminism, but Ed (we're so totally on a first-name basis) thinks that's a totally lame excuse.

Recently, a cute boy asked me, "Are you a feminist?"

I said no. I think partially because I wanted him to like me. But also because I would have no problem staying home, cooking delicious food, and raising beautiful babies.

However, both the cute boy and good ol' Ed made me realize my wrong ways.

The definition of feminism is simply advocating equal political (and social) rights between men and women. Why yes! I DO want to be treated equally!

Well...almost. I want to be treated special. Because I get to have babies.

Not yet, obviously, and I would probably even like the chance at a career before that happens. And I want someone to help me make and make a home for those babies.

So, can I have a career and have some babies AND not emasculate my baby-making partner? Ed thinks so. Ed also thinks that partner should step it up.

I think I found a cute boy who is stepping it up. Oh no, am I actually dating a MAN!? Not a "guy?" Not simply a cute boy?

Best date idea ever....

2008-04-12T00:35:00.003-05:00

And by "idea," I mean, this actually happened. His idea.

We wrote a song and then recorded it.

It's the perfect date - active, creative, CHEAP (well, if you already have a guitar and/or recording software I suppose), and still plenty of opportunity for flirting and/or chemistry and/or double-entendres in the lyrics.

Holla. Why do I have to graduate now that I may or may not have found a decent JMU guy?

An interesting follow-up

2008-03-24T22:49:00.003-05:00

I'm currently researching the effects of new media (the internet? blogs? i'm not sure how specific to get yet) on politics (partisanship? bias? again...the specifics have as yet alluded me).

While reading this article, based on a speech from a democracy conference in 2000, I came across this paragraph:

Now, the new technology allows us to talk to people all across the world. But as far as I can make out, our problem is, we don’t know how to talk to our neighbors. We look to Bosnia, we look to Africa, yet we can’t talk to each other. People can’t talk to their wives and husbands and children. Yet we are celebrating that we can now talk to strangers across the world. The democracies we have in small nations are not working very well yet wse hope to have a global democracy because of the new technology?

Generally, I've learned how to talk to my roommates, am working on my friends and family, and am in the middle of changing how I talk to potential dates.

And here I am, naively blogging, I think opening my audience to the whole world. Who am I kidding?

Communication

2008-03-24T01:32:00.003-05:00

I think being a communicator has messed up my dating life a little bit.

My roommate met a cute boy this weekend, and got him to ask her out by being elusive.

"When can I see you again?" he asked, that first night.

"When do you want to see me again?" she coyly responded.

After some back and forth, they finally had their first pseudo-date tonight. When she came home and told us all about it (as girls so often over-analyze and digest and celebrate and get jealous), one thing she said she asked him is how he feels about piercings.

"Why, do you have one?" he asked, quite logically after her question.

She shrugged, so coyly, then asked, "How do you feel about tattoos?"

"Well, it depends! You've got to have one if you're asking, right?"

She shrugged, ever so coyly.

I have tried my hardest, especially in the past year, to be a clear communicator. Boldness comes with this territory, and I've had to take a deep breath and make myself tell a boy I like him before. Why not be honest? Why not tell him what he wants to hear? Why not make everything easier in the long run by establishing trust and sincerity upfront?

Well, I have dated about four guys in the past three months of this year. Every single one of them I've considered myself a decently honest person. And they all seemed to appreciate it at the time.

I know it's soon, but my roommate already has a second date lined up and cutesy texts like, "tonight was perfect."

I don't really talk to any of those guys I was trying to communicate clearly with anymore. Maybe I should stop communicating and start teasing/intriguing, like my hott roommate. Separate my professional goals from my personal.

Jalisco, Mexico

2008-03-14T20:42:00.003-05:00

Our airplane shrank above the ground, a rainbow

Blessing our tropical journey with the flock

Of students bobbing sleepy heads to balk

At napping. I turned my eyes down below,

Where I imagined Mexican farmers sow

Their fields of patchwork quilts and ticking clocks,

Nested in pop-up mountains being mocked

By an American vacation’s shadow.

At the hotel, bare chests distract me by day

While it’s tequila squared that gets me at night.

Add to the list green waves and smiling faces

And I’m a camera-happy tourist who pays

No mind to local salesmen dressed in white,

Like saviors to our money and Spanish phrases.

Rescue by Eve 6

2008-03-12T23:02:00.006-05:00

Though I'm in a poetry-writing class now and have come to appreciate the art form much more than I did back in high school, I still generally enjoy song lyrics as my favorite form of "poetry." Lyrics can be just as witty and visual as poetry (especially Eve 6's), but most poets would probably argue lyrics are too cliche. But cliches just give us something to understand and relate to!

(My dad is an avid musician who goes to a lot of open mic nights. Noticing the "emo" trend, he often comes home and says "Someone needs to tell these kids that not every page in their diary can be song lyrics! Give me a cliche, give me something to hold onto!" I am probably biased by his classic rock bias.)

Listening to Eve 6 while writing a brief homework assignment - but my poem about spring break in Mexico up behind that - these lyrics hit me. It's almost exactly what happened to me last week in a bar in Puerto Vallarta filled with multinational non-JMU (yay!) attractive men (and of course two of my amazing sexy, but spoken-for roommates):

Well I kind of sort of knew what was going to happen
When she put her number down on a restaurant napkin
She said goodbye I think the words were when you're back in
Town lets have each other again I'll come around and see you again

Long story short, I had a more-innocent-than-normal (for spring break standards anyway) rendez-vous with a beautiful Canadian (could he be any more geographically unavailable?). When we met, trying not to rely on expensive roaming cellphones, Eve 6 explains exactly what I did - wrote all my information on a napkin for him.

The boys of Eve 6 wrote this song 8 years ago, so of course now we can rely on cell phones and email more and there's always facebook to socialize long-distance. Or so I hope.

"I definitely want to keep in touch with you. There have been facebook marriage proposals before, right?" he half-joked with me on the second-to-last night of our vacation.

After a long goodnight, we made plans to meet the next day. Here the napkin plan hiccuped - he only had my information. So when I didn't hear from him, I had no other option but to wait. And go home. And not know his last name. And not be able to stalk him on facebook (uh, I mean friend! Friend him on facebook!).

Here's the chorus of Rescue:

Like Jessica Rabbit she collects bad habits gets her drinks for free
Animated vixen stole cupids arrow and came to rescue me
In the blink of an eyelid my lid opened up and I could see
That she'd come to rescue me

First of all, I'd always thought the "drinks" in the first line was really "trix." Rabbit, you know? Yeah yeah... I can be naive. On the other hand, I know I have a tendency to want to rescue boys, so am I turning into Jessica Rabbit? Developing the bad habit of only dating geographically unavailable men? I don't like how these lyrics sound...

A bumpersticker I saw today said

2008-02-17T22:39:00.003-05:00

"Smile. It's the second-best thing you can do with your lips."

I smiled (it convinced me I guess), and giggled (out loud, then looked around with concern that anyone walking around in the parking lot who probably thought I was crazy), and then my thoughts automatically turned to what would be the first best thing to do with your lips.

Kissing came to my mind obviously. Then slightly dirtier things (hey, I'm just glad those thoughts didn't come first).

Of course I would think about the dating things you do with your mouth. But what about eating, talking (okay I guess you do this while dating too), singing, or making funny faces or something?

What is the best thing to do with your lips?

Size Matters

2008-02-03T22:55:00.001-05:00

DearSugar had a poll the other day asking its readers if they preferred bulky boys or the skinny type, while today I read a New York Times article about the trend facing the fashion industry: increasingly thinning male models.

Coming from a girl who has dated on either extreme of the spectrum, I prefer something right in between (totally cliche, I know) too muscular and emo-boy skinny.

Looking at some of the weight-lifters in the gym even creep me out. Really? I'm glad they would be able to rescue their woman of choice, but I doubt a thousand-pound gorilla will be attacking their fair maiden any time soon. And the most muscular guy I've dated (and/or cared the most about how his muscles looked) was the most boring too.

This year I found myself in a weird trend of dating cross-country runners. Two weren't really that skinny (and had fantastic toned muscles), but the other was. And all I could think of when I was with him (and another skinny rockstar cigarette-smoking coffee-drinking "this is good for my image" type of guy I dated a few years back) was "Am I squishing him? Does he even find me feminine and attractive?"

When I polled some friends, of course the response was mixed:

"Really? I think it's gross. I prefer my boyfriend NOT to weigh less than me."

"I've never dated muscular guys. I prefer the skinny nerdy type."

"Well my boyfriend has a large frame, and he used to be obnoxiously skinny so it just looked WEIRD. Now he fits his frame better bug has some pudge. He says he's trying to work out more and I'm like GOOD. But I'm glad he's bigger than me."

It's like when I see a 5'1'' girl dating a 6'6'' guy - I get really angry and personally offended somehow. Leave the tall guys for the tall gals! - you can kind of just tell when a couple fits physically together. Maybe unfortunately the stereotype is that the men should be big enough to save us. So why is the fashion industry focusing on the measly male?

Alcohol

2008-02-03T13:34:00.000-05:00

I'm starting to worry about myself.

The last three guys I've dated kissed me just fine sober(ish) for our first kiss(es). But then, for the second or third date/kissing opportunity, every single one of them got drunk before they became affectionate.

Am I that bad of a kisser? (I've been told the opposite.) Am I that unattractive? (I've been told the opposite.) Okay...Am I that intimidating?

Clearly it's not because I'm too humble! ha..ha..eesh. I hate boys.

"It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him." --Genesis 3:12

This is sincerely all I want to be.

Pheromones

2008-01-26T03:02:00.000-05:00

I think they're stronger than we assume.

I read this fantastic article that my friend drew my attention to (Oh she knows my interests so well!). It had a lot to say about how science, genetics, carnal instinct, and dating culture all inter-relate.

Why do we like kissing? Because saliva helps us sense the best DNA to mingle our own with.

How do men become subconsciously more attracted to fertile, ovulating women? It's in our scent.

There must be some hormone I released once I was more single than usual lately (it's a long story about stupid boys who are stupidly far away and me being smart and sticking up for myself). After this bit of heartache, I wanted to take a break from boys, I really did. One of my informal New Year's resolutions was to put less emphasis on boys (including just flirting for flirting's sake and especially ESPECIALLY to not date another boy at JMU. They're just too lame).

But like I predicted, that resolution lasted for oh, about fifteen seconds. Not my fault!! Out of nowhere, boys - both old and new - came to bug me. (Who am I kidding? I love it.)

A guy I met at a bar over winter break invited me to come back up to DC for his birthday party.

Another (mmm...military) guy I met at a club like nine months ago IM-ed me out of nowhere. For some reason I have a special place in my heart for boys in Maryland.

One of my former hall mates, who I've always had an attraction to, revved up the flirting last week. (But apparently he's been revving with several girls recently.)

Last weekend I ran into a guy I dated sophomore year for a bit. He looked seriously good. And he said all the right things. And I questioned why I didn't hold onto him a little bit tighter back in the day.

And then tonight, I heard from some boy I met on the metro a couple summers ago. Random, not too flirty, but then he never was too obviously flirty. He invited me to do a stop-by visit if I was ever in DC.

Did they smell my pheromones - even though most of them are at least 100 miles away? Could they subconsciously tell I was trying to give up on them? Are they a distraction from my goal; a temptation to give it all up? Or are they a reminder that it's futile to stop caring about having a boy in my vicinity? It's our evolutionary goal in life, after all, to find a mate whose DNA will mix with ours to create the perfect offspring.

Maryland is calling my name. Not quite sure why. (Well, okay, perhaps it is because he came to visit. Him and some friends drove down to meet some friends and come to my roommate's birthday party. When I invited them, I had no idea they would actually come. But I am extremely glad they did; I had an amazingly fun time thankyouverymuch.) My friends and parents tell me I only like unavailable men. I suppose this includes the geographically unavailable. Of course he would - out of all the long-distance guys I could potentially date - have the strictest visiting schedule. But considering I refuse to date JMU guys the remainder of my time here, what other choice do I have but to travel?

Like I have commented on before, the military just trains good daters anyway. He is legitimately more respectful and attentive from 150 miles away than maybe any other guy has treated me.

Buttttt if I do hang out with the JMU guys who have reappeared, it doesn't count as breaking my resolution right? Since I have already dated them?

Eesh. Maybe I should go back to rejecting all boys.

Ha, yeah right. That time carnal instinct let that thought last only five seconds...

Hookah

2008-01-20T18:34:00.000-05:00

Pursed between flushed lips
like a bulb in its socket
she lengthens her ribs to a triangle.
Its smell climbs
but doesn’t knuckle the nose
until the final ounce
escapes lungs and mouth
without need of a doorknob.
Passed to the chimney
whose lips last left moist residue.

She lifts a shoulder.
Bends a knee.
Undulates through to the hill-like hip.
Catching the highway to her ear,
a giggle produces a sinuous partner.
Then two
(knot-hair).
They lift choreographed ostrich legs.
Then three
(mole-cheek).
They descend to the floor like rodeo ropes,
paunches sucked in.

But the onrush breaks
for the smell alerts, addictive.
Pursed again, the mature call it mango
but memory rouses childhood days of cherry.

Deep Thoughts via AIM

2008-01-05T02:01:00.000-05:00

I've been spending too much time on instant message lately. But it's been good research, and very thought-provoking.

I suppose, like me (let's be honest here) everyone can put a little more thought into what they're writing/typing than just b.s.-ing around.

A former resident: college life is fictional, its not real, nothing like the real world at all, trying to start a relationship in this fictional world doesnt work, it certainly wont last, so i say, wait until ur out of college, have a job in the REAL world, then make your moves

My roommate's boyfriend, when I thought I was talking to my roommate: seriously, you know what you should do? relax, and just have fun with the guy

When I told my match-maker friend about this comment:

My match-maker friend: lets do that
My match-maker friend: i've been a lot better about that recently, actually
My match-maker friend: but boys are way more fun when they do what you want them too

So true! But mean! And then (no joke), she preceeded to send me a facebook link of a picture to see if I thought this guy was cute, because he needs a date. Typical.

The Female Dog

2007-12-19T14:52:00.000-05:00

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...

2007-09-30T22:14:00.001-05:00

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...

2007-09-11T00:08:00.000-05:00

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...

2007-08-09T00:39:00.000-05:00

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

2007-08-01T22:20:00.000-05:00

Genius! And totally crush worthy. Mmm

This is Why I'm Commitment-Phobic

2007-07-19T23:48:00.000-05:00

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

2007-07-15T22:35:00.000-05:00

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:

2007-07-12T10:27:00.000-05:00

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

2007-07-11T11:33:00.000-05:00

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!

2007-06-21T22:38:00.000-05:00

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

2007-06-13T12:09:00.000-05:00

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

2007-06-11T00:52:00.000-05:00

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

2007-06-04T19:57:00.000-05:00

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

2007-06-02T22:54:00.000-05:00

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

2007-06-01T23:36:00.000-05:00

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

2007-05-28T19:15:00.000-05:00

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"

2007-05-21T00:09:00.000-05:00

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...?

2007-05-17T01:29:00.001-05:00

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

2007-04-05T14:43:00.000-05:00

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

2007-03-28T22:31:00.000-05:00

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

2007-02-13T22:16:00.000-05:00

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

2007-02-10T02:43:00.000-05:00

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

2007-01-31T10:15:00.000-05:00

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...

2007-01-04T19:42:00.000-05:00

...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.

The Disease plauging college girls

2006-12-30T16:04:00.000-05:00

...And no, it is not an STD.

(even though supposedly JMU surpassed Radford as the Virginia college with the highest STI - isn't that the new, correct term? - rates and two non-JMU-ers would not stop making fun of two of us proud JMU-ers for that last night)

It is an unnamed Disease, one where girls are reduced to the like of tissues, paper plates, standard red drinking cups...pick your own disposable cliche. Although boys are the cause of an original case of the illness, it is highly contagious among women as well - and we all know how close dorm living is.

It is closely related to Competition, commonly found spread among college-aged women too (which I happen to be highly susceptible to), but it is a little different.

Girls generally get it a lot, but it is especially common among college-aged girls, and especially especially JMU girls. Like most liberal arts schools, we have more girls than guys, and our streotype on both ends is really really pretty girls and really really skeevy guys (who all really really like partying really really hard).

Guys want one thing - this is not news to anyone of any generation. But this generation hosts more girls who are willing to give guys only that one thing without demanding anything else. And the rest of us are left without any vague notion of romance in our lives.

If the boys are getting what they want without any effort on their part, what right do we - as self-respecting and self-hoping for some sort of romance/lust/pretending girls - have to demand that boys actually pretend to like us for anything other than our bodies?

So we catch the disease, since the girl down the hall is "dating" some guy, and we want to too - and to be in any sort of competition, we have to give up any expectations. It's okay if we make out and then he doesn't call/IM/say hi in real life for three or four weeks (searching for other options without being tied down) , and then next time he texts its to suggest another make out session. And we say "okay!" because we want to pretend. Pretending is fun and care-free for a while, as long as you are fully aware that you are pretending.

And this disease spreads like wild fire - or the black plauge, or ebola, or mono, again pick your cliche - among hallmates, suitemates, classmates, and friends.

I have had it. I may have it now, I'm not sure (that's another thing about the disease - sometime it masks itself as sexiness or confidence). Can I cure it? Can I help others with it? Duhn duhn duhhhnnn....

Sparkly and New!

2006-12-20T14:25:00.000-05:00

I figure the eve of a new year and a new semester is as good as time as any to start a new (more mature?) blog .

My affair with Blogspot began this summer as I rode the metro every day to and from my first full-time job (okay, internship, but still - 40 hours a week!) and gobbled up the Washington Post Express and its witty writing and even wittier mentions of blogs so often hosted on Blogspot. It expanded to reading DCblogs on occassion. And now that I get less and less feedback from my xanga (as I push up my nerd glasses, since me and my friends all got one in high school and I'm the only one that still keeps up with it); I noticed that Blogger is now somehow connected to Google (what isn't connected to google now?); and I already went through a huge change getting a gmail account earlier in this year (I don't adapt to change very well) - I decided it must be fate!

I promise I usually don't write in extreme run-on sentences. Actually they're usually quite short. And hopefully witty.

Anyway, it is winter break, and I plan on writing a lot. All while taking dance classes and searching for summer internships so I don't turn into a lazy bum.

Get excited!