More on Military Men

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How fabulous for the rest of us.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

VD PS

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

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

There is hope in the world for love!

Valentine's Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

LOVE! Happy Valentine's Day :)

The D-Hall Date

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gentlemen...

...Where are they?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe I'll just move south.

The Disease plauging college girls

...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....