Wednesday, April 25, 2012

I Would Say "Delta Bravo"... But Douchebag Really Is One Of My Favorite Words

I hate getting blown off. I don’t mind if someone gives me a reason or an explanation why they either can’t make a date that we arranged or that they are no longer interested in seeing me. That, I can handle. I’m a big girl and, for the most part, take honesty well. But to simply not say anything and slowly phase me out. That’s just gross. 

Okay, so maybe I got too excited about the idea that the redhead was different. It appears that perhaps we are too different. At least, that’s what I have to assume since I can’t coax the actual reason of the instant distance out of him. 

I thought Sunday went well. We spent the afternoon at his house, I met his family (that was pretty overwhelming in itself, but I think I handled it well), we sat on the couch and talked for hours and then he made me dinner (he made me dinner!) and we watched a movie. I mean, sounds like the perfect date right? 

But I did something wrong. I would share it with you if I knew what it was. Unfortunately, I can only speculate since, like most people, he doesn’t want to take a trip down the road of open and honest communication. But I knew something was up when I got home Sunday evening. There was instantly a different energy to his texts. Then, he didn’t text me at all the next day until I sent one to him first. I got a few short responses so I let it go. I gave him the entire next day to initiate conversation and again, got nothing. I finally asked him what was up and he gave me the “long, crazy day” line. 

Really? You think I haven’t used THAT one before? 

We had plans tonight. Given, they were tentative... but plans nevertheless. I decided to let him text me this time. I knew he wouldn’t. And I was right. 

Sometimes, I hate being right. 

If I had to guess, I would suggest that he is not impressed with my level of education or the fact that I’m not incredibly motivated when it comes to my career. We discussed these things quite a bit on Sunday. He just got a job for a company he loves and is planning to go back to school to be radiologist. I have a job I can tolerate that I try to go to as little as possible and have no real plan to go out and do anything different right now. I can understand how this might be cause for concern. 

So tell me this. I can take it. 

It might be something else. Maybe he thinks I’m a slut. He did read my last blog and knows about me sleeping with Guy #1 on the first date. He may have even clicked on past blog links to discover what he may think is a sordid sexual past. I can understand how this would also be something that raises eyebrows. It’s a lot to process. 

Tell me about it. No, seriously. TELL ME ABOUT IT. 

I’m having a major case of “Pissed the fuck off”, as you can tell. 

And then there’s the issue of Guy #1. 

I think a sign of a good - or at least fairly decent - writer is the ability to manipulate your readers into giving you the kind of feedback you are seeking in moments of confusion. For example, I wanted my friends to comment on that last post and tell me what a douchebag Guy #1 was. I wanted validation that the decision I was making to pursue Guy #3 was justified. So, I painted a picture of a douchey game player that anyone could see was messing with my head. Did a pretty good job too. The few comments I received on Facebook were from people telling me that regardless of whether or not there was any kind of chance with the redhead, I needed to drop Guy #1 because of his douchebag tendencies. I was told it would only end in destruction. 

Unfortunately, one of these comments was left by someone who married the biggest douchebag I ever dated. So, yeah... grain of salt. 

At least with Guy #1, there was authentic communication. There was an instant connection and a spark that I am still have trouble getting over. When I first met him, my heart literally jumped into my stomach because of how attracted I was to him. I think the last time that happened, it was with my high school sweetheart. We’ve been honest with each other ever since, even when it gets uncomfortable. Douchey or not, isn’t this the kind of communication with someone else that I so desperately seek? That’s the thing with douchebags - they usually have a pretty big set of balls. 

So, is that what it becomes? What level of douchebaggery am I willing to put up with in order to have an authentic, pure, honest and open relationship? Obviously, my friend has found that in her marriage. I guess they can’t all be nice guys. 

I have also realized that I have been putting way too much pressure on myself to find someone. And, once again, I gave up so quickly after just meeting a few guys. If Guy #1 makes me happy, I’m gonna take some more time to check it out. There is a guy at work that I kind of dig as well... so why not keep myself open to that? And my online profile? Reactivated. Why not? 

Like anything else, moderation is key. What I did a few weeks ago was “power date” and it really didn’t work for me. I do think there is absolutely nothing wrong with taking my time and truly finding the pace of dating that works for me. And I think as long as I remain open and honest about my intentions (which is impossible NOT to do, given this blog), I can’t really be faulted for how things turn out. 

Patience. They say something about that being a virtue... I struggle with it, for sure. I admit, I want to get to that stage of being so in love with someone that I can’t stand to be away from them as quickly as possible. But then I try to force it and end up with this right here. Me, my cat and a laptop. 

So, yes... I’m going to keep talking to Guy #1. And everyone will be entitled to say I told you so if it doesn’t work out. However, said people will NOT be invited to the wedding if it DOES work out. 

And I’ll stay open for other opportunities. Because even with my lack of motivation in the career department, my measly Associate of Arts degree at a fashion school and my very active sexual past, I’m still a really awesome person, dammit. 

I mean, at the very least, I deserve my own douchebag.

Thursday, April 19, 2012

The Road Not Taken

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;        
 
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,        
 
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.        
 
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.



Okay, perhaps jumping right back into dating was a tad premature. I was bored, feeling lonely and my ego was damaged. Not exactly the best recipe for going out with a bunch of new guys. But I figured, what the hell - could be fun, right? Just like I mentioned in my previous post, no harm in dating around, meeting a bunch of people and having a good time, right? 

Right... 

So, it hasn’t exactly been a good time. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had some fun dates... but I am just not the person I used to be. Three different dates with three different guys over the course of three different days is, apparently, not my idea of having a blast. Throw in a night with an old friend who kisses me and asks me to give him a chance and an email from an old friend asking me to drop everything and give HIM a shot, and all of a sudden I’m wondering why I didn’t get braces before. 

Okay, in all seriousness, this sounds like a good problem to have. But my issue with it stems from the fact that none of these men know me like I know myself. And while they all see me in the “single and awesome” category right now, they don’t know my shit or are choosing not to look at it. I’m complicated, confusing, analytical, noncommittal, withholding, withdrawn at times and have a fairly hefty list of past references (i.e. ex-boyfriends) that could give many reasons why I’m not worth the chase. 

Don’t get me wrong. I’m definitely worth it. With the right man by my side, I’ve got Superwoman potential. Problem is, I haven’t chosen wisely and have hurt more people than I ever intended. 

Guy #2 fell out of the running on the second date. I kinda knew on the first date that the spark wasn’t going to be there. However, the first time I watched A Clockwork Orange, I couldn’t see what the big deal was. Now, it’s one of my all time faves. So, I figured a second date would hurt. 

Unfortunately, I was wrong about him mostly enjoying his job and being good relationship material - at least for me. He hates his job, kinda seems like he hates his life and almost everything that came out of his mouth was negative. Obviously, no space in my world for that kind of personality. 

My woodwork friends are not contenders. The way my brain works, if there was nothing there before, chances are, I’m not going to find what I’m looking for now. It is flattering to hear that someone has feelings for me, but I can’t help think that they have been in the friend zone for a reason. It’s hard for me to get over this when I’m not so secretly looking for someone to come in and sweep me off my feet.  

So, that left me with Guy #1 and Guy #3. Here is the story of how that dance went... 

There was an instant attraction when Guy #1 met me at the bar on our first date. He looked exactly as he did in his handsome online pictures. He hugged me like he knew me, sat down, ordered a good beer and we spent the rest of the night immersed in flirty, witty and fun conversation. I had worn my most sexy dress and felt like a million bucks. He had ridden in on his motorcycle and was looking rugged and tough. We were straight out of a movie, laughing and gazing at each other throughout the evening. 

It was all familiar... the jokes, the pop culture references, the sexual banter, the hand on my thigh... I’ve been down this road many, many times. I knew what was going to happen that night before he even walked into the bar. Sure enough, we finished our drinks, paid the tab and he followed me home. 

The sex was incredible. This was not a first date, awkward, getting to know you kind of encounter. Every movement was right, every decision a bad one that felt so good and before I knew it, it was eight hours into the following day and he was still in my bed. In retrospect, I can’t help but wonder if I wouldn’t have had to work, if I ever would’ve asked him to leave. 

A few nights later, this happened again, only without the actual date. It was straight out of a dating 101 “booty call” chapter as he showed up close to midnight and we danced again until the following afternoon. All of my relationships that have started this way (and yes, there have been quite a few), have not ended well. I thought about this a lot during that second period of time together. But, then I reminded myself that things were casual, I had no one to answer to and although there was clearly a connection, it also didn’t seem, by his words and behavior, that he was interested in setting a wedding date anytime soon. Harmless fun is what we were having. No big deal, right? 

I was pretty hooked. Again, this was not unfamiliar territory to me. And who knows? Maybe this time, it would actually work. Forget the nagging in the back of my mind that his personal stability wasn’t exactly what I was looking for or the fact that he had only been in Las Vegas for a short period of time, not knowing what he was going to do with himself or what his next step was. Forget that his primary mode of transportation was a motorcycle, he lived with his mom and step-dad and worked as a nightclub promoter. I can overlook these things that I would rather not have in my significant other. 

Here I go again... making it work. Geez, Tina - have you learned ANYTHING from all the guys you’ve fucked over in the past? 

And then, Sunday happened. 

We made plans to go to the Scottish Festival together that day. I had friends participating in some events there and was able to weasel my way out of an on-call shift at work to spend the day drinking Guinness, soaking in the sun and showing off my new potential mate in public. I was very excited about this. 

Towards the end of my shift Saturday night, I got a text from him saying that he had forgotten about an interview he had in Boulder City at 2:00pm on Sunday and that he wasn’t going to be able to make it to the Festival after all, since I was planning on being there at noon. However, he still planned on coming over after I got off work and staying with me until I left the following day. Well... of course he did. Hmm... 

Just when I started to feel good and frustrated about the idea of being another late night snack, nature helped me out and it rained just long enough to prevent him from making the trip to my side of town safely on his bike. We would have to try again next week. 

However, I was still going to the Festival. No way I was missing it this year! 

Guy #3 and I had a hiking date set up for the following weekend and had also been texting me throughout the night. So, I thought to myself, maybe I’d see if we could move it up and I invited him to the Festival with me. In fact, the way things were going with Guy #1, it might not be a bad idea to eliminate future prospects anyway. Not that I assumed it was going to happen, but I was already emotionally invested and feeling a bit exhausted from the multiple dating already. This dating lots of people thing is for the birds. 

#3 and I met out at the park the next afternoon. I recognized him and his beautiful red hair instantly. I couldn’t help but think to myself with a smile, what was I thinking NOT bringing a red head to a Scottish Fest? With his laid back personality and fun, positive texts, I knew we were in for, at the very least, a pleasant afternoon. 

He was interesting from the start. We began the “basics of dating” conversations and his responses were... refreshing. He had a house, two dogs, good friends, is close to his family, about to start a new job he was really looking forward to, has plans to go back to school and, to my delight, was kind of a nerd. Nerds are quite nice for me because it prevents us from getting into aggressive arguments about why Denver shouldn’t have beaten Pittsburgh even if the Steelers were running a stubborn defense that couldn’t seem to catch Tim Tebow. Sometimes, it’s nice to save those arguments for my buddies, not my boyfriends. 

But alas, I digress... 

We spent the whole afternoon together. He met some of my friends and was comfortable and easy going around them. He held his own in every conversation and I was able to quickly tell how multi-faceted his personality was. I thought he was just going to be another fun, West Coast minded party boy. I couldn’t have been more wrong in my original judgement. 

We parted ways after the Festival but then met up later for dinner and some bowling. I wasn’t quite ready to be done with my analysis on this intriguing new element to my already confusing game. And sure enough, he kept it intriguing. 

There was something so different about our interaction. The way he looked at me... the way he spoke to me... the words and the subjects that he chose... his perfect teeth, his incredible red beard, his shy smile... shit, son, we share the same birthday!! That’s gotta count for something, right? 

We stayed out late and then he walked me to my car. He hugged me sweetly and with no expectations. I couldn’t help but smile as he got into his black Prius and pulled away. A Prius, huh? 

Now this was unexpected. 

To make an already long story a little shorter, I found myself staring down two different roads. The first was one I was very familiar with and had been down a hundred times before. Of course there is never really knowing where it will lead... but the terrain I knew well and the warning signs were in plain sight. I could easily go down that road again based on its familiarity alone. 

The second road is completely unknown. It has an intrigue to it I couldn’t ignore if I wanted to. The path is welcoming and actually seems to exude a feeling of hope and change. It promises to be different... and asks that I give it a chance. After all, the worst thing that could happen is a beautiful stroll down an unfamiliar trail. This is what I feel when I look this direction. 

Guy #1 hasn’t made it easy for me. I haven’t seen him since Sunday and have been very open about the decision I am facing. His text messages started saying things like he’s not going to compete with someone else and that he’ll help to make the decision easy for me by backing off... only to be followed up with another message about desperately wanting to see me again and brushing back my hair or stroking my cheek. He will then accuse me of fucking with his head and follow it up with wishing he could see me because of how much he misses me. He tells me I have created an internal struggle for him that he doesn’t know how to handle. 

All of these reactions... I’m just too familiar with. 

It’s been an emotionally trying week, to say the least. All I wanted to do was have a little bit of fun. I seem to forget that analyzers like me have fun playing with board games and cards, not people. 

So, I hid my online dating profile as I certainly don’t need any other distractions at the moment. I’ve decided to slowly venture into the unknown because I’ve asked the Universe to bring me something different and it did. To ignore it now and follow only what I know sure seems like a quick way to get what I’ve always had. Of course I might be wrong, but the idea that I could be right outweighs any kind of doubt about my choice. 

Perhaps one of my recent blog commenters was right. Perhaps I should’ve waited to start dating again. It’s never too late to change my mind and spend some time by myself. Then again, there is no need to rush into anything either. A leisurely stroll down a new path, taking in the scenery and patiently awaiting the surprises around each turn doesn’t change the fact that the trail still leads somewhere. There is certainly no hurry to reach its destination as it’s going to be there regardless of how quickly I walk. 

And besides, redheads are going extinct. Gotta soak up the time with them while we can.

Saturday, April 14, 2012

An Update On The Beautiful People...

I’ve been going to the same Starbucks near my apartment for a few years now. I’ve become well acquainted with John, one of the baristas. When I walked in earlier this week, he greeted me with “So, what, is anorexia the cool thing now?” 

Believe it or not, we have the kind of relationship where this comment is not offensive. 

Okay, so I’m a little underweight. Well, at least in the opinion of those who see me the most frequently. Personally, I love being skinny. Loving food and beer as much as I do, I have to enjoy the super thin times when I have them because I don’t usually maintain it for that long. But, the concerned looks from people who haven’t seen me in a while or the “are you okay?” comments do get a little annoying. Geez, lose a few extra pounds and suddenly everyone thinks I’m on drugs. 

Starting picture - 145.5 pounds
I’ve taken Family Fit Club very seriously and since the first of the year, I’ve been working out, eating healthier and encouraging my friends and family to do the same. My brother is down fifty pounds since Christmas, my dad is down forty and my mom is down thirty-three pounds AND fifteen inches. My good looking family continues to get better looking every week. 

My goal was to lose eighteen pounds, putting me at 128. It was hard work losing those first fifteen pounds. But I was plugging along nicely, exercising daily, drinking a LOT less (nothing there for a while, as you know) and cooking healthy meals regularly. 

Right as I approached my goal weight, however, a few significant things happened. I got braces and Tim and I broke up. Breaking up with Tim altered my daily routine. I was no longer taking time to cook healthy meals or waking up early to work out. I was upset, out late, sleeping all day and unmotivated. And not eating nearly as much as I normally would. 

Then there was my teeth. I didn’t anticipate the effect braces would have on me. The first few days after having them put on, my teeth and gums were in so much pain, I was living off of juice and ibuprofen. Just when they started to feel better, I went back in for two extractions. If you’ve ever had to have perfectly healthy teeth yanked from your mouth, you’ll know that it can be a little traumatic. I bled all night and was in pain for a week. Once THAT pain subsided, I was already back at the dentist for my first adjustment, getting more brackets put on as well as a spreader that affects my speech because of the restrictions it has on my tongue (basically, I sound hearing impaired at times. Awesome). 

And finally, earlier this week, I was hugging my new friend, Rob (see Guy #1) and we had our first awkward moment together as one of my brackets got caught on his shirt and I had to pull it off, removing it from my tooth and pulling the top wire out of it’s brackets. I couldn’t get it fixed until the next day and had to rig it up with a bunch of wax to make it through work that evening. 

With all of these complications, it was no surprise that I weighed in at a very light 121 last Saturday morning. 



I’m trying so hard not to sound like a pussy when it comes to my braces but geez, what a pain in the ass they’ve been. I knew if I lost any more weight, my mom would start to get nervous. Plus, anything under 120 and I begin losing my T and my A which I do try to avoid. So I was very thankful on Tuesday of this week that my teeth finally stopped hurting enough to where I could actually chew on solid food comfortably. Wednesday was even better and by Thursday, I was chowing down. This morning, I weighed in at a more comfortable 123.4 pounds. 

I haven’t been able to work out since I haven’t been able to eat so I’m looking forward to getting back into a nice exercise and diet routine. After all, bikini season is coming up and I’m in the mood to look awesome this summer. 

So, other than these complications, Family Fit Club has been going really well for everyone. My brother just hit his second weight goal of 192 pounds and looks great. My mom is fitting into all kinds of clothes she wasn’t able to and Dad’s looking younger and younger every week. We are seeing all kinds of benefits outside of just the weight loss as well. For example, this past week was “Sacrifice Week” and the challenge was no caffeine. This isn’t really a big deal for me or my brother, but Mom and Dad struggled so bad that they have decided to drastically reduce their caffeine intake from now on, not realizing how much they had been consuming on a daily basis. 

This week is Date Night, where everyone is supposed to do something special with their significant other. Since I no longer have that person, my mom proposed that I do something special for myself sometime this week. So, I’ve decided to spend Wednesday loving and appreciating who I am. I am going to start with an outdoor walk in the morning followed by a little modeling session to help a friend sell a dress, an afternoon pedicure with her as well, lunch on my own with a good book and a trip to Victoria’s Secret for some new and very needed bras and panties. I bowl that night but if I can work it in, I am taking myself to a movie as well. Maybe even a chick flick just for good measure. 

This Saturday is our monthly Family Play All. It was my turn to plan it so I decided to put together a picnic and Field Day. We will be spending the day at the park, playing football, baseball, frisbee and any other fun sport we can get our hands on. Being active together has been so good for us and I love that we can be such a wonderful influence for my nephew and new little niece. 

I absolutely love the commitment the family has with our “club”. As soon as my sister-in-law gets cleared from her doctor, she plans on joining in as well. Season two of Family Fit Club starts in July where we will revamp the game a bit and set new goals. Ready to make big changes in your life? Feel free to come along! 

I know I got some questioning looks with my weight loss and perhaps dropped a little quicker than I wanted to... but I’ll tell you what - buying those size 2 skinny jeans sure made me feel like hot shit. And now that I’m back on track and finding balance in my life again, I’m ready to turn up the weights and get some lean muscle going. Summertime won’t know what hit it! 

It feels good to feel good about myself. I’m not perfect and have been through my ups and downs, over the last month for sure. But when I get through my breakdowns, I look at myself and am reminded of who I really am. 

And no, it’s not anorexic. Thanks anyway, John.

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Get Your Tickets Now, Should Be A Good Show


Everyone moves on differently. A very good friend reminded me about the importance of moving on this week. There is an illusion some have that if you are the one that ends the relationship, you are immediately “over it” and instantly happy. Well, take it from me - it doesn’t work that way. 

However, after my last post, I did feel much better. Verbal purging always has that affect on me... so I decided to shake off the self pity and get moving on with moving on. I unfriended the necessary people, reached out to others, spent some time with the family and picked up extra shifts at work. Money always helps me smile. 

I also hopped back online and created my new dating profile. I’ve talked about online dating before and have even posted a few self-help blogs on a website I have written for in the past. I’m a fan of the online dating scene, if done properly. I do like how choosy I can be. And I’m not going to lie, the attention I get helps my self esteem when I’m feeling a little bad about myself. Never hurts to get a message telling me how pretty I am. I will always be a sucker for a compliment. 

I like Plenty of Fish. It’s a free site but still very nicely put together. I met Jeremy on POF. In fact, his name on my phone has the same letters next to it as Rob here. There are creepers, sure... but the filtering options are thorough and I feel safe using the site as its designed to be used. Shit, there were creepers at the bar last night... you can’t get away from them, but you can keep them from getting any of your attention. 

I give up a little easy with online dating. My friend Nancy did it right - she went on a LOT of dates before finally finding the right one. I meet one guy one time, think he’s the one and delete the profile I just spent three hours putting together. No wonder I find myself returning time and time again... 

So this time, I have decided to really make a run at it and do some dating. This week alone, I’ve had a date and met three other guys that I’m actively “talking” to. Kinda feels like a reality show... three different men with three very differently personalities. 

Guy #1: Sexy, smart, funny. I initiated contact because I liked his pictures a lot and thought his profile was unique. We began texting a few days ago and are planning to meet later today. The conversation has a lot of sexual overtones with some hilariousness and moments of vulnerability snuck in periodically. Feels very familiar... a relationship that I would really like to have work, but sort of feels like sex is a priority. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not opposed to sex with a hot guy... but long term, I have my doubts here... 

Guy #2: Sweet, cute, stable. He initiated contact with me. I responded because he seemed very normal and down to earth. He has a good, stable career that he mostly enjoys, home life seems really similar to mine (apartment life, my side of town, etc.). We also began texting a few days ago. It’s been fun and casual, not overly aggressive in any way and he’s enormously friendly. My gut is that he is great relationship material. I do want to make sure, however, that I’m not falling back in with someone that might be more sensitive than me. Definitely date worthy, however and we are planning on meeting later this week. 

Guy #3: Silly, laid-back, fun. FLAMING red hair - couldn’t resist checking him out when I saw his first picture. He is very clearly West Coast, looks like having fun and chilling out are very important, but at the same time he seems to have his shit together and stability is something I really thirst for these days. We haven’t started texting yet, but we’ve online chatted once and have exchanged quite a few informational emails. Sounds dangerously close to being “friend” material, but I would still like to meet him in person and see what his story is. 

There are a few others I’ve been going back and forth with and I do plan on going on pursuing some other options. After each break up, I talk about how much I don’t want to go through that anymore. So, I’m working on taking a different approach and really seeing what options are available to me. I’m hoping to see a difference in the caliber of men that come into my life by changing my perspective on who I am and what I deserve. 

There is the downside, of course... but this is something I’m not going to be able to avoid... the guy I went out with earlier this week? Nice guy... funny, cute, great voice. New York met Nashville and then moved to Vegas to play poker. Not my ideal stable career, but I certainly don’t turn my nose up it as I might have before I met Jeremy

So we met for drinks, hit it off, lots of laughing. Pop culture commonalities were missing, but for a first date, things were going swimmingly. As the night went on and we became more comfortable, the conversation started going in the direction of sex. He had already moved in for a kiss (I CAN kiss with braces!!) and while I usually wait to have the “sex-talk”, since we were already moving in that direction, I opened my closet and exposed my skeleton. 

I told him about my HPV and the scare I had with Herpes. Now, I always expect a bit of kickback and/or hesitation when I tell people this. But honestly, all the men I’ve interacted with since I’ve had to have this conversation have been really understanding and, thankfully, educated on HPV itself. So, normally it just deepens the conversation and things move along. 

Yeah... not this time. 

Freaked out and ran out of the door screaming like a girl isn’t EXACTLY what happened. But it’s how it plays out in my mind when I recall it. He physically backed away and started asking if he could contract anything by kissing me. The third time he asked this same question, I could see him slowly going into a panic and thought it would be better if he just left. I wasn’t sure my previously inflated ego could handle watching him melt down in front of me, as if he were Jack Nicholson in The Shining. 


So... there’s that. My mom is right, so much better to find out as early as possible. While I completely agree with that, it’s still sucks to go through. But, this is my bed so sleep I shall. 

Perhaps I should just have that particular blog linked to my profile... make things easier and keep the ones trolling for sex at a distance. (Although I just reread that blog... haven't in ages and wow, I have come a long way, especially with my family. Amazing, this verbal purging...) No, it’s cool... having to have that conversation in person a hundred times builds character, right? 

My confidence is in tact. I know there is someone out there who will love and accept me despite my flaws. I’ve met enough men that are supportive that I can’t let one uneducated guy hurt my feelings too bad. Besides, he didn’t know who Talking Heads were. I should’ve been the one who got up and left. 

Regardless of the outcome, it should be an interesting journey. Wanna come along?

Monday, April 2, 2012

"Live a Boy's Life and You'll Be Happy!" - Linda Marshall

For just a few seconds after I was born, the doctor thought I was a boy. 

My parents had wanted a boy and a girl but were happy with a healthy baby. As the story goes, due to the swelling and mess that occurs during birth, it looked for a minute as if my parents were going to have two boys instead. Once the doctor realized I was female, he quickly corrected himself and announced to my parents that they were proud parents of a baby girl. My dad started to cry. 

I wonder, quite frequently, if things would’ve been better had I been a boy instead. Would life have been easier? Would I be less emotional? Would I live out loud, more carefree than I do now? Would I be better at relationships? Would I want a family of my own? Would I be sitting here, alone, wondering how in the world everything got so messed up? 

I think of my Dad. Would it have been easier for him to have raised two boys? He did a very good job of instilling in me a passion for football, but that’s hardly a replacement for having an actual son. I think of how much easier it might be if he didn’t have to see his little girl go through relationships like they were clothes that continually fall out of fashion, not knowing exactly what to do or what to say when she crumbles in front of him. I have to think of how much easier he would have it if he didn’t have to talk me off a ledge so often... convince me not to hate myself... we could just watch the game in peace. I wish that were the case for him. 

My mom hates that I am dating again. She worries about the guys I’ll meet. She hates the idea of me trying to meet guys in bars or online. She doesn’t like not knowing what I’m up to when I get off of work. I wonder... would she worry about me less if I were a boy? Would she feel more secure in what I do and who I choose to spend my time with? What if, instead of telling her that I brought a guy home last night to watch A Clockwork Orange because we mentioned it in a conversation over drinks, I told her that I met some chick who crashed on my couch because she drank too much... would that be better? Would it not bother her quite so much? Would it be more... normal? 

Would my brother and I have had a more substantial relationship? If I were a boy, we could’ve played sports together and bonded over talks about the girls that broke our hearts. We could’ve sat together, drinking Coors Light and shouting at the television during bad plays. Maybe we could’ve had kids around the same time and argued about who was going to do the grilling that weekend. We could’ve hashed out our differences in a fist fight on the front lawn instead of not speaking to each other for years at a time. 

Some asshole I work with suggested that I learn everything I can about football as a way to impress guys and get them to like me. Like I use it as a secret weapon to be different from the competition. If I were a boy, I could simply like football. 

I fucking hate being single. I hate it so much that I do anything to avoid it. Including getting into relationship after relationship that I’m not committed to. Even now, I know that I need to take time to myself and not rush into anything. Yet here I am, with a new online dating profile set up. I know I need to come straight home from work because it’s the best decision for me. But the thought of sitting in this empty apartment makes me so upset that I continue driving to the bar, because it’s the only place I can be around people and be alone all at the same time. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll meet someone who likes A Clockwork Orange... 

I’m so sad about my breakup with Tim and the dry and cracked way we speak to each other now when speaking is necessary. I want to unfriend him on Facebook because it hurts to see him hanging out with his ex-girlfriend again, knowing she makes him happier than I do... and to see all his posts about “moving on” and “discovering a person was not who he thought they were”. I told him how stupid still being friends on Facebook can be. Like standing in the same room with someone but pretending that they aren’t there, looking right back at you. But instead of unfriending him, I stalk his page, wondering what he’s up to and waiting for the next post that will break my heart just a little bit more. 

If I were a boy, couldn’t I just say “Fuck it” and move on? 

Such a shame that the doctor was mistaken. Something tells me that I would’ve had a better shot at happiness had it not been for my girly parts. Then again, if I were a boy, I’d have to deal with bullshit from girls like me. 

Hmmm... guess I was pretty much doomed from the start.