Leaving... by Giselle

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...

Sensitive Boys ... by Island Girl

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?

If there's a second thing I've learned...

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?)

ah, JMU...

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.

And Once Again I Prove That Awkward = My Life

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.

Boys as Roommates Part 2

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

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.

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?

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.