Dating and The Single Life

It’s no joke that Andi and I are pretty much polar opposites on many a thing.  She’s nearing the end of her schooling and will have a PhD, I have a Bachelors degree in Fine Coloring.  She’s very into sports while I’m still trying to remember that Hockey doesn’t have quarters or innings.  She also has this thing for certain British bassists that I can’t quite wrap my head around (She has them as wallpaper on her phone… whereas me, if I had wallpaper on my phone of a guy… well, I’d be dating him :))

Anyhow, despite these differences, Andi and I can agree on two things: Who we should marry. Luckily, they both come in pairs, so since she and I are such good friends, we would be keeping them together as a set, just… you know… taking one for ourselves. 

The first lucky set of husbands:

Oh yes… You can just see the love in their eyes, can’t you?  That’s really my elbow next to Harry (I’m short, skinny, and blonde too!) 

And our second husbands will be shown in video form.  Coincidentally enough, her husband is again on the right, while mine is on the left.

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Dear Sinclair,

I miss Sundays. Usually the end of the week is spent finishing up homework and stressing about the coming week. When all I have to do is work, I’m free to enjoy Sunday. Yesterday I lazily made my way through the day, accomplishing not much of anything with that being a feat in itself. It was more pleasant than I remember.

The weekend went exceptionally well. Craziness every day, too much to detail here really. My date went well but I’m more unsure than ever about this boy. It’s weird that he’s older… since he seems it to. I should probably be thinking more about it, but I’m still in my lazy Sunday mode, slowly rolling through the hours…

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“Ignorance is bliss…but it sure as hell isn’t attractive.” - more words of wisdom by my Sugarbaby.  Need I say anything more to explain that statement?

Moving right along….

DJ (did I ever mention she is a freaking PR genius?! Yea. Well, she is) and I have formulated a plot. 

The plot?  Find me a new (gay) partner in crime. 

How are we going to do this?  First, decimate my pride by asking everyone we meet if they know any cute, sane, single (not hung up on their exes) lesbians (preferably the cute butchy/boi/punky type).  If we spot any unkown potentials while we’re out, we have a plan for that too: we’re conducting interviews about the hottest lesbians in Denver, and the hottest places to go.

The why?  Well, DJ’s settling down with her new woman, which leaves me as the single-single lesbian in our group- so, alas, I have to replace her.  At least for the sake of going out and being single.  Of course, there are numerous benefits, including -expanding our social circle and potential looooove connection!!!  Thankfully, I don’t yet have to address this problem with the straight group, although me and Lizzard are the only single ladies left in that social circle.

This dovetails beautifully into my Misson Eye Contact (improving non-verbals)- which yields interesting and promising results!  As a matter of fact, J was the unknowing recipient of much of my practice eye-contact shots this weekend (me being me, I feel like I have to practice things before implementing).  While she was out on the dance floor, or wandering around socializing- her eyes kept wandering back to where I sat.  Perched on a bar stool, wearing an amazingly H.O.T. outfit, with f**k me black heels on.  The more often she caught sight of me and we made eye contact, the more often her eyes sought me out.  These results held true for strangers as well, which resulted in being asked to dance several times, and another drunken kiss from one of DJ’s friends!

So: Mission Eye Contact Weekend 1 Results:

1) Feeling like eye candy

2) Being asked to dance by a stranger

3) Random kiss by drunken friend.

4) Good feelings.

Mission New Partner in Crime: Status will follow shortly

I had a dawning realization today- at least I’m happily single and not in a miserable relationship.

On a side note: Cirque du Soleil’s Corteo- an amazing show- a show with much more humor and levity than some of the other show’s I’ve seen, with a distinctively Circus like appeal. 

That’s all she wrote!

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So I have been cleaning my room out in preparation for moving to Florida, and throwing away all the stuff I don’t want/need. This is a lengthy process, because I have like 20 boxes of old stuff that I can’t help but look through for an hour each and laugh at. Today I found this recipe book my class made in second grade, and I almost fell off my bed laughing at everyone’s spelling. tmado for tomato!? that is comic gold!! then I got to my recipe, but discovered that I had spelled everything correctly, unlike everyone else in my class. I guess it’s cool that I was really smart in second grade, but I kind of wish I had been dumber, so that I could laugh at my spelling instead of just being like “oh, my stuff actually makes sense.” I did however, suggest cooking brownies at 100 degrees for 15 minutes, and then pronounced them ready to eat. There is no word on whether anyone in my class died from salmonella. However, another one of the steps was “pour cake in bowl, then mix” like pour in actual cake, then add chocolate chips. maybe i wasn’t as smart as everyone thought. go stupidity!

Another golden find of mine was my ‘Tristan box’, aka, all the presents Tristan gave me in 9th grade when we were dating (round 1). I haven’t decided what to do with it yet, because I mean really, I do not need those stuffed animals, but it pains me to throw them away. Maybe my mom can do it for me when I’m not looking. There is also a picture of us from the homecoming date(like omg our first date!), I am very much taller than him, although it is debatable whether this is only due to my enormous hair and the fact that straightening irons were not invented yet. On a related note (of old pictures), I for serious cannot believe I was allowed to be out in public before 12th grade. My Bat Mitzvah pictures should probably be hanging in the lobby to the Museum of Awkward (conveniently located in the left wing of Paxon Hollow Middle School).

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I’ve held my silence on the phone call long enough. And I’m still beaming ear to ear!

It was one of those mobile phone calls where you see the number and recognise that it must be so-and-so and you put on your best phone answering voice (likely inadvertently sounding like a phone sex lady or a cheerleader on speed) and then try to sound remotely surprised at who is on the other end (why oh why do we do these things!)- “Ohhhh heyyyyy, how are youuuuuuu???!”

Well, to be honest, it’s over a week later so I can’t rehash the whole dialogue to you (come on- I’m not that pathetic… but the best thing that came out of the conversation was that a) it was almost a half an hour long and he actually talked about himself rather than it being a discussion of what on earth was happening in my jacked up life, b) a hilarious dream was disclosed (to be shared later), and c) the joy of joys. He had decided that a phone call would be more appropriate than replying to my email and I was very thankful. *deep sigh of appreciation and reflexion*

Yeah so during our talk he actually opened up and told me a few “between you and me” things that are going on in his life, and NO I won’t share them here because they wouldn’t be between he and I, now would they?! Sheesh. (And please bear in mind while I’m writing this, that yes it does sound juvenile and girlie and silly that I’d be so excited about such small things as this, and if you’re having a hard time synthesizing this all please skip to my first post and you’ll understand why I have issues with a phone call being so massively important!). Moving onward…

The thing that absolutely swept me off my feet was his “by the way” kind of in passing question of, “Are you going to *£!&£ Festival”? (I’m not telling you what festival, allowing for more anonymity *wink*) My reply was that I was in fact planning on going (acting all cool and collected), “Are you thinking about going?” knowing that it was a long journey for him to make. His reply…….. *I’m like practically strapping myself to the chair here in excitement* “Yeah, if you’re going then I will probably go.” The girlie dancing that ensued after hanging up was of gargantuous proportions and it could happen again at any moment. FOUR DAYS OF CAMPING OUT AND HANGING OUT WITH HIM!!! (with no shower… doh)

GO ON, I know you want to do the dance too! *everyone dances the girlie dance!*

Right, so the plan is now thus: I am going to Edinburgh in about 2 1/2 weeks time to stay for about a week and hope to get some good time in with Mr. TDH. I’m so psyched!!! But I must tinkle so I’ll end with the dream…

(this is the funniest thing I’ve heard in an age)- He was telling me about a couple dreams he had recently that really disturbed him, but they were not the strangest of dreams he’s ever had. He has actually had a dream that ended with credits. That is absolutely brilliant. I can’t top that. Farewell for now. And may love be with you! <3

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So Lychee told me about this dating site the other night - well it is kind of a dating site but you can opt not to date on it too - it’s called Ok Cupid and the idea is that you do all these quizzes about yourself and what you’re looking for in a partner - there are all different kinds of questions on a myriad of topics and through answering these questions, they match you up percentage wise to other users.So I have been doing a lot of the quizzes (there are also silly tests too) and it is a lot of fun - I was doing more tonight and then I thought, well I should really see who my top matches are as I might be missing out on something/someone great here!  So I do… and who should come up as number six on my list of matches??? Pedro… I knew it was him straight away ….Fuuuuuck… I didn’t even know he was on this site - so then it is quite interesting to look at the tests he has done and the results - very insightful indeed.   And then the system matches you up and tells you if you’re compatible - who is hornier (him apparently) who is more compassionate… all these different things. Quite funny to look at really… here are some of the results

• >P is MUCH more adventurous
• >P is more aggressive
• >unknown: who’s more arrogant
• >P is cooler
• >Em is less cruel
• >P is more independent
• >unknown: who’s more introverted
• >unknown: who’s kinkier
• >Em is MUCH more loving
• >unknown: who’s more old-fashioned
• >unknown: who’s more organized
• >unknown: who’s more pure
• >P is WAAAY more scientific
• >unknown: who’s less hesitant
• >unknown: who’s more sex-experienced
• >P is MUCH hornier
• >unknown: who’s sloppier
• >unknown: who’s more spiritual
• >unknown: who’s less methodical
• >P is MUCH more trusting

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There is an unspoken rule among friends, you don’t say you hate their girlfriend or boyfriend.

You cant.

A. The person will not listen to you.
B. The person will be pissed at you… or have some awkward tension.

Rarely does a friend say, “You are right, I am ending this relationship”
It does not happen that way.
Ever.

Most people do not out right say it. Most people do not say “he is a pompous ass, please dont date him” Most people hint at their disgust. They get short at the significant other’s failures/faults. They get angry when that person is hanging out.

And it is worse, when people do not out right say “I hate your significant other.” It is worse because the tension is unspoken. We both know you hate him/her. We both know. But instead of coming to terms with the unspoken agruement, someone gets cut out of the relationship.

Basically friend cannot hang out with boyfriend/girlfriend.
Basically friend gets to spend less and less time with friend.

It sucks all the way around.
Basically your options are to support your friend, regardless of the asshole/bitch. Support your friend without saying a damn thing.

It makes me laugh, after well over a year I am still hearing how friend X, Y, Z hated my Ex Boyfriend. I keep saying I WISH SOMEONE WOULD HAVE TOLD ME. And the thing is, people did tell me. In subtle ways, and in not so subtle ways. Friends who have never expressed their disapproval, expressed disapproval. I did not listen. And even if all my friends gathered together and had an intervention, I still would not listen.
I never listen.

Its just the things I lost that worry me.
An old roommate told me today that he hid in his room because he hated my Ex. I never knew that. Old friends stopped being friends. Partly because the Ex was jealous. Partly because he was a douche. I didnt know that.

And you know, my friends tell me now. New guy X, Y, Z is a douche. But I dont care. I appreciate their honestly, but I am going to do what I want.
Its nice to have it out in the open though.

Its funny.
Nothing helps.

I have a best friend who married an asshole. I cried at her wedding because I hated him. I cried and I was a bridesmaid. She stopped calling me for a year. She stopped answering my phone calls.
That hurt.
But I understood.
Things have gotten better. I do not even hint how I hate him now. We talk on the phone sometimes now.
But the thing is… when or if she ever needs to call me, I will still be there.
I wont be their to celebrate her husband’s birthday. I wont be their sleeping on her couch with that dick head around. But I will be there when she needs me. I will be there when she decides to end it and be herself (if that ever happens).

Thats all you can do.

Be there for your friend.
If you value the friendship, you can wait.
And I will wait forever for her to leave him.

And I expect you, my friend, to let me make my own mistakes…

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I feel mopey. Probably because I’m listening to Travis. And Joni Mitchell. And Norah Jones. And it probably doesn’t help that Norah makes me think of Austin. And that Austin makes me think of the boy who isn’t calling. But anyway, you try to find me music that isn’t about love - or at least romance or relationships, none of which I feel like thinking about right now.

I had a moment earlier this week that was a first for me - and not necessarily a pleasant first. I’ve been technically alone (meaning sans romantic relationship) for pretty much all of my life. But I’ve never felt lonely. Never. Not once. Well, actually, that’s not true. I was kinda lonely living in England, but I was lonely for America and my friends, so that doesn’t count.

But as I was laying in bed Sunday night trying to fall asleep, I felt a sort of unease, an emptiness. And I realized that I finally knew what everyone meant when they talked about sleeping alone. I’ve personally always preferred sleeping alone. But then I’ve really not liked most of the people I’ve had occasion to fall asleep with - at least not in a lasting, meaningful way. But I also think I knew beforehand that each of those relationships were fleeting, that we were essentially not compatible or that the timing was wrong.

Only this time felt different. I actually liked him, was intrigued by him, took chances for him. And I fell asleep with his hands on me (but for the love of all that is holy, why do guys always rest their hands on precisely the parts of my body that I am most insecure about? How do they divine this anyway?) But never mind that. The point is that I fell asleep wrapped up in him. And he felt warm, and strong, and secure. But in the end, I guess, perhaps I was to him what all the guys before him have been to me. I think I’m beginning to see how easy it is to blur the lines of sex and intimacy - and how signals get crossed.

This feels like progress somehow. Progress sucks.

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In honor of the impending doom that is Valentine’s Day, I give you amusing links to the humor of one Ms. Jill Conner Browne, also known as THE Sweet Potato Queen. For those not already acquainted, check out this heavy reading: >http://www.sweetpotatoqueens.com.

I once heard her books described as Southern-fried feminism. I’m down with that. This stuff is pure guilty pleasure, people. PURE. But it entertains me. So there.

>SPQ Marriage License 
>SPQ Divorce Decree

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OK, folks. The whole game of finding wives for farmers has gotten nuts. And you heard it here first.

Tonight I went to my Yahoo home page, and what did I see? The lead story was about Farmers Only.

Ah, ha! The article said the site was started by an advertising executive in Cleveland. Go figure. Those nutty ad types are always trying to hook up with farmers.

See story here. And don’t miss the video.

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