Following in the Family Tradition?

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

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!

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!

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

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

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

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

Isn't he great?