Can I getcho' numba girrrrl

I love New York City.

I got asked out twice in one day.

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

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

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

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

Boy-men

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

An excerpt from this New York Times article:

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

Types Part 2

My current (celebrity, totally unrealistic) crushes:

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

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

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

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

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

"That's a shame," one responded.

"Yeah, I know!"

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

Yeah...I know. Thanksssss.

But hey, he's a nice guy.

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

Types

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

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

Ah! And he just called. Awkward blogging karma?

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

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

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

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

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

So, where are the similarities in this list?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Encore...?

D3.

He's back.

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

Well, I saw it!

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

D3: Haha I'll be right over!

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

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

Uhhh....

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

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

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

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

Me: Haha okay yeah! come on over!

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

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

Dad: What's going on?

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

Dad: Oh, okay...

Me: ...

Dad: ...

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

Dad: I knew something was going on!

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

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

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

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

More on Military Men

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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