My best friend blogged about the sometimes suckiness of dating and I thought it needed to be shared.
A few reasons why you don't have to make exceptions for idiots
Enjoy.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Elephants.
Because life likes to make things awkward, I of course have to see him every week-- at least. We sit next to each other at our weekly board meetings. It's been almost six months sense we were O-V-E-R but we, in my opinion, have adjusted quite well pretending like nothing ever happened. Oh, and I must mention that I am now dating someone new.
The president of our board announced that I had "something really exciting to tell everyone!!" It had all to do with my responsibilities on the board, and nothing at all to do with my personal life.
Someone exclaimed, "Are you engaged?!?!" which then started a ripple effect of gasps, "you're engaged??"'s and other hullabaloo.
And then an elephant walked into the room and sat right next to me and said "ex".
I could feel him squirming in his seat, and I felt similar. He stared down at the table and didn't look up at all while the commotion went on. I could feel the distress radiating off of him. All of my hard work avoiding the subject of "new boyfriend" in front of him just flew out the window in about one minute. I felt so awful trying to imagine how uncomfortable he must have felt at that moment. I never had intentions to rub it in that I now was dating someone who was not him. I quickly tried to defer the subject away from my personal life and back to business matters, telling everyone that I was not engaged.
I was SO close to passing him a note but I was not sure if it was just make things worse, so I didn't. Plus what would I have said?... "Sorry that everyone was asking if I was engaged to someone who is not you because we are not dating anymore and things just got extra awkward because it was not that long ago and we didn't ever have closure with it all and things didn't end as well as they could have with us."
Instead I gave the elephant some peanuts and sent him on his way.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
I feel like loving innocent, giddy love.
He called me on a Sunday night, and told me he was picking me up in 10 minutes. I got in his pick up truck and he started to drive up the mountain. We went to the look out spot that had a panoramic view of the whole valley. This look out was known by everyone in my town as "Make Out Point", but I think in all of high school I had ever only followed those rules once.
Once we arrived to the abandoned parking lot. We parked facing the view, and he kept the keys in the ignition with the lights on. A new burnt CD was playing with songs that we now look back on with fond memories.
"Okay, put the CD to Track 7 and turn up the volume as loud as it can go." He hopped out to the front of the car with a little bounce in his step. He knew that he was about to win some major kudos.
I did as I was told. And THIS song came on:
I sat there for an awestruck second with a smile from ear to ear. We looked at each other and my eyes said, "You didn't just do that. You are too cute" and his said, "Oh, yes I did. Please come out of the car now."
I got out and walked up to him.
Then, as the song commands, we danced in the moonlight. He dipped me. We laughed. I was oblivious to the other few people that were probably watching us-- they were just jealous.
We had so much fun, that we danced for another three songs.
I don't get giddy very often. But that night, I was. He brought it right out of me. And after 3 years we still talk about it. We both brag about it to our friends, too.
That moment goes down in the books.
It's a reminder that it's the little things that matter most, and that get me the most.
It's a reminder that love doesn't have to be extravagant or flashy.
It reminds me to go back to what's important.
Once we arrived to the abandoned parking lot. We parked facing the view, and he kept the keys in the ignition with the lights on. A new burnt CD was playing with songs that we now look back on with fond memories.
"Okay, put the CD to Track 7 and turn up the volume as loud as it can go." He hopped out to the front of the car with a little bounce in his step. He knew that he was about to win some major kudos.
I did as I was told. And THIS song came on:
(Turn up your speakers for full blog post effect)
I sat there for an awestruck second with a smile from ear to ear. We looked at each other and my eyes said, "You didn't just do that. You are too cute" and his said, "Oh, yes I did. Please come out of the car now."
I got out and walked up to him.
Then, as the song commands, we danced in the moonlight. He dipped me. We laughed. I was oblivious to the other few people that were probably watching us-- they were just jealous.
We had so much fun, that we danced for another three songs.
I don't get giddy very often. But that night, I was. He brought it right out of me. And after 3 years we still talk about it. We both brag about it to our friends, too.
That moment goes down in the books.
It's a reminder that it's the little things that matter most, and that get me the most.
It's a reminder that love doesn't have to be extravagant or flashy.
It reminds me to go back to what's important.
Monday, March 4, 2013
Oh, the irony.
It had been a while since I responded to his letter which I had been honest, blunt and upfront in. He said he appreciated the blatant truth, but I think I took a stab at his pride.
Rightfully so.
Things right now in a normal world, should be awkward, a little at least. Especially since we've been broken up for five months.
So, why is he sitting next to me at the library right now?
No, first off... why did he even invite me?
Hopefully I'm being a girl and over thinking it, and all he wanted was some nice company... and he happened to want me be his company.
Right? That's all it is.
Except my brother-in-law would tell me that ex-boyfriends don't just come around to be friends. I'm going to stick with the "nice company" theory.
After not being around someone for a long time, that you normally were around a lot, you remember little quirks they had. You remember the way they would look around the room, you remember their sarcasm and the way they wore v-necks. How he would act so nonchalant about life's misfortunes and laugh with his head rolled back. Then, there's the occasional comment from him to me like, "Is it fine that I'm using words I don't know?"
I should miss him. I should want to go back to how it was.
But, I don't.
I am completely fine sitting here, in different chairs while he writes is 11 page paper on Fat Oxidation, and I write a blog post about him.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Instead of telling our young people to plan ahead, we should tell them to plan to be surprised. -Dan in Real Life
The Dating Game always seems to be a cliche that you hear about, but
never truly experience. Until you do. Then you realize that all of these
"he says, she says" stories can in fact, be fact. At least to some
varying degree. It's a little surprising when this happens.
You were so surprised to hear his voice on the other end of the phone after you thought you'd only see him at one or two group reunions commemorating your month-long study trip you happened to both go on. You had thought he was the only cute one the whole time, but never thought anything would happen when you would hit the homeland. Especially since he had chosen to flirt with some of the "unavailables" the whole time, and you thought that was really weird. He was out of your mind. But then you hear his words come through the other line that say:
"I should have asked you out when I came to pick up my luggage at your house a week ago."
You were surprised, but you said yes.
He picks you up, and you reminisce over Italian pizza. He is much funnier in this setting, and seems more at ease than you had noticed before. He makes comments alluding to "not making a move before" and you are still surprised that he called you five days earlier in the first place. You wanted to know what his intentions were, because you never can assume the obvious.
He walks you to the door, saying on the way, "This didn't feel like a first date at all" and you know why.
You are even more surprised that when you go in for a hug, he goes in for a kiss. Which then results in him kissing your lower left cheek. You thought in your 5 years of dating you had done pretty well to avoid that awkward situation, but then realize it has to happen at least once to everyone. This had just been your time.
You walk inside even more surprised at how the past week has turned out-- never imagining this. You stare blankly at the floor for what felt like 79 seconds wondering if that had just really happened. Then you realize you're going to have to tell your roommates how the date went, ending with, "He kissed me. Well, he first missed my lips, but then I let him do a redo. It takes a lot of guts to kiss a girl."
You're surprised that during the second date, he holds your hand in public. He's charming and you roast mini marshmallows with toothpicks and a tea light. You still have no idea what his intentions are because he lacks the ability to let any form of feelings slip from his lips. The only form of anything coming from his lips that night didn't miss this time.
You're again surprised that he doesn't contact you for a whole week. Then, when you see him at the reunion like you always thought you would, it was awkward. So you decided to be a big girl and go say hi to him, because he wouldn't say hi to you. There was still a white elephant in the room that only you two were aware of, but you feel like you played it out pretty well.
You thought that because you gave the courtesy of honesty to other guys in the past, Karma would makes its rounds to you. But Karma doesn't, so you decide to drop it. It's not worth stressing over someone who doesn't make an effort after stealing a couple of kisses. Even though it's annoying and goes against your code.
Though time has passed, you're surprised that you still wonder of his previous intentions. You wonder if it was something you did or said, or didn't do or didn't say. You wonder if his intentions were to fulfill pressure from the outside expectations. You're then surprised that you've become one of those girls who has insecurities about a boy who stopped talking to you. That makes you disgusted with yourself, because you are exceptionally good at not caring. So then you go back to not caring.
You weren't surprised to find out that the reoccurring theme in your life is indeed becoming more and more of a fact.
You were so surprised to hear his voice on the other end of the phone after you thought you'd only see him at one or two group reunions commemorating your month-long study trip you happened to both go on. You had thought he was the only cute one the whole time, but never thought anything would happen when you would hit the homeland. Especially since he had chosen to flirt with some of the "unavailables" the whole time, and you thought that was really weird. He was out of your mind. But then you hear his words come through the other line that say:
"I should have asked you out when I came to pick up my luggage at your house a week ago."
You were surprised, but you said yes.
He picks you up, and you reminisce over Italian pizza. He is much funnier in this setting, and seems more at ease than you had noticed before. He makes comments alluding to "not making a move before" and you are still surprised that he called you five days earlier in the first place. You wanted to know what his intentions were, because you never can assume the obvious.
He walks you to the door, saying on the way, "This didn't feel like a first date at all" and you know why.
You are even more surprised that when you go in for a hug, he goes in for a kiss. Which then results in him kissing your lower left cheek. You thought in your 5 years of dating you had done pretty well to avoid that awkward situation, but then realize it has to happen at least once to everyone. This had just been your time.
You walk inside even more surprised at how the past week has turned out-- never imagining this. You stare blankly at the floor for what felt like 79 seconds wondering if that had just really happened. Then you realize you're going to have to tell your roommates how the date went, ending with, "He kissed me. Well, he first missed my lips, but then I let him do a redo. It takes a lot of guts to kiss a girl."
You're surprised that during the second date, he holds your hand in public. He's charming and you roast mini marshmallows with toothpicks and a tea light. You still have no idea what his intentions are because he lacks the ability to let any form of feelings slip from his lips. The only form of anything coming from his lips that night didn't miss this time.
You're again surprised that he doesn't contact you for a whole week. Then, when you see him at the reunion like you always thought you would, it was awkward. So you decided to be a big girl and go say hi to him, because he wouldn't say hi to you. There was still a white elephant in the room that only you two were aware of, but you feel like you played it out pretty well.
You thought that because you gave the courtesy of honesty to other guys in the past, Karma would makes its rounds to you. But Karma doesn't, so you decide to drop it. It's not worth stressing over someone who doesn't make an effort after stealing a couple of kisses. Even though it's annoying and goes against your code.
Though time has passed, you're surprised that you still wonder of his previous intentions. You wonder if it was something you did or said, or didn't do or didn't say. You wonder if his intentions were to fulfill pressure from the outside expectations. You're then surprised that you've become one of those girls who has insecurities about a boy who stopped talking to you. That makes you disgusted with yourself, because you are exceptionally good at not caring. So then you go back to not caring.
You weren't surprised to find out that the reoccurring theme in your life is indeed becoming more and more of a fact.
Breaking hearts= not fun.
This song stings a little. Especially because it was dedicated to me by a boy I had broken up with a few months prior.
I still feel like a jerk.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
A Truth Universally Acknowledged
This is a story about a truth universally acknowledged. No, not that truth… this one:
A single man in possession of [honesty, resilience, and tact will find] a wife.
(Or at least in Utah)
It sounds simple enough, right? What makes such a simple statement difficult for a person to understand? When I hear a man utter the statement “I just don’t understand girls” my mind immediately wonders what kind of situations the speaker has been put in… better yet, which ones he’s put himself in. It is amazing to me that even after however many years of males and females coexisting , men constantly try to appear victimized. Why is this? Is it because of the big, bad woman? Is our luscious femininity to blame? Do we automatically make the opposite species fawn over us without even trying? Is it my fault you can’t figure out the proper way to treat a girl? My fault for slipping through your fingers? Should I be held responsible when you label me ‘the one who got away’?
It was a Friday night. It was the day after Thanksgiving, and I had spent my holiday with relatives, out of state. I was on an air mattress, pondering the movie I had just seen. It was a thought-provoking movie, and I always seem to dwell on those a little bit more than the average blockbuster. I thought it might be interesting to send a text to one of my friends—one who I knew would appreciate the conversation. We had been chatting back and forth via text message for an hour or so when I drifted softly into slumber land. I woke the next day to his final text message, one telling me to let him know when I got back into town because he had a question for me. Thinking it was weird that he wouldn’t just ask me there, I forgot about it only minutes later.
When I returned home, I got back in the swing of things. I started school again, which was rough on my immune system. I had developed a nasty cold the following week, figuring it was a result of my multitudinous holiday travels.
As Monday turned to Tuesday and so forth, I braved the freeway that Friday night. I decided that I would nurse my sick, aching body back to health at my parent’s house. As I came into Salt Lake, my cell phone rang. It was the boy I’d texted Friday night. Seeing the name on the screen was rather peculiar, considering we’d never had an actual phone conversation before, but I picked it up, anyway.
“Hello?” My voice was weak and scratchy.
“Hi…” he said.
“Hey, how are you?” I asked.
“I’m well.” It was silent for a few moments. I wondered if he had ever had spoken on the phone before. He seemed not to grasp the concept of engaging in conversation, or at least participating in one that he started.
“Good!” I exclaimed, “Can I help you with something?”
“Yeah. Are you in town tonight?”
“I’m not, actually. I’m pretty unwell, so I’m headed back to my parents’ house as we speak.”
“ARE YOU DRIVING RIGHT NOW?” he inquired.
“Yes…?”
“Oh, I am so sorry. Really, I am. I didn’t mean to call you during a time that you were driving. I will call back on Monday when you get home. I still need to ask you that question that I told you I was going to ask when I spoke with you last week.”
Light bulb.
“Alright, sounds good. Talk to you then.”
Click.
The weekend passed without a hitch. Miraculously, my health returned. Monday night came, and as I was catching up on some homework, my cell phone began its familiar buzz. Seeing his name, I laughed, remembering the peculiar conversation we’d had a few days before, and then, I answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi.” Obviously, my silent judgment taught him nothing about phone call expectations.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Well, I need to ask you that thing I have been trying to ask you,” he swallowed, audibly, “ and I’ve been wondering for a long time why I've never hung out with you before. I’ve tried to kick the thought, but it hasn’t been working, and…” (Probably pay close attention to this part) “I’m not saying that it’s the spirit pushing me to do this, but, Do you think that maybe sometime this week, we could go out?”
With my mouth agape, I tried to look at things from his point of view, and had a pre-answer conversation in my mind.
Tell him that it wasn’t the spirit.
No, don’t.
But… it wasn’t…
Doesn’t matter. Say yes to the poor soul.
“Well, what did you have in mind?”
“I thought we could go see that movie, maybe. Would you want to do that?”
“Sure! I’d love to.”
The phone call continued another ten minutes. He put me on speaker phone, assuring me that no one was in the room to hear me speaking, though the thought of our conversation being so intimate and private had no place in my mind at all. I heard him flip calendar pages, trying to find a place for me in his week, and in all of that silence, couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t made a plan in the first place. Wasn’t that what you did when you asked someone out? Weren’t you supposed to say, “Hey. Movies. Friday night. 7:30. Come.” And then, if the person couldn’t, you just hung up and tried someone else? All of these thoughts interrupted by…
“Would Thursday work? If not, I’m not offended. You don’t have to go with me.”
“Thursday works.”
“No, really, I understand if you’re up to your waist in school work. It is the last week of the semester. I don’t want to step on your toes.” Not really the right use of the phrase, but I let it slide. I was pretty piled up with homework, but decided I should say yes, anyway. I was never the type to turn down anyone.
“Thursday, it is.”
“Really, you don’t have to come.” At this point, I questioned whether or not he wanted to go out at all. “Also, if you want me to make you dinner, let me know. I could do that. I know you don’t cook. So, I could feed you before the movie starts, if you’re hungry.”
Such an awkward question… statement… which part of speech was that, even?
“How about you decide, and let me know.”
“Okay. Sounds good. See you then—Oh, wait! One more thing. The last thing I was going to ask you was whether or not you were feeling better. Can I bring you anything? Medicine? Kleenex? Gatorade?” While it was a very sweet gesture, I was, in fact, feeling much better, and was in no need of his services.
“No, I’m okay. I’m not sick anymore. Thanks, though. That’s very nice of you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Uh…
“Okay, well…”
“I can hear your coughing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Alright. Have a good night!” About an hour later, this Facebook update showed up on my screen. Word to the wise, when the Facebook status bar asks what you’re thinking, telling the entire truth is not required. In fact, I would discourage doing so.
Thursday came, and, even more so than on Monday, I was drowning in homework. I’d said no to dinner before, but was trying to avoid bailing on the date, completely.
Around 3:00, I was running around campus, trying to finish a sketching assignment, but with the dark cloud of three academic papers due by the end of the night looming above me, I knew I couldn’t finish everything I needed to, while still going out that night. My first instinct was to text message him, explaining how sorry I was for canceling on such short notice, but hit myself on the head for not sooner realizing that he deserved a phone call. So, I dialed.
“Hello?”
“Hi. How are you?”
“Good.”
“Good. Listen, I hate myself for doing this, but—“
“You can’t come. I knew that was it when the phone started ringing. I was afraid of this.” The disappointment in his tone was palpable. A lump formed in my throat, and I wanted to take it all back. This is precisely what I’d tried so hard to dodge.
“I know. I feel so dumb. I’m sorry. Seriously. I underestimated how much homework I would have by the end of the week, and there’s just no way I’m going to be able to finish on time. I’m so sorry. Really, I am.” There was silence on the line, “Are you still there?”
“Yeah.”
Intentional silence. I deserved that.
“Okay. Well, anyway. I hope you have a good night, and I’m sure we’ll be able to do something again, sometime. Take care.”
“Alright. Bye.” Feeling like a world-class snob, I ventured home. I felt like the scum of the Earth. A few minutes passed, and as I walked, ashamed, I loaded Facebook. Not even five minutes after our phone call, he updated his status, asking if someone would take his extra movie ticket that he’d already paid for, which was strategically specified in the post. My jaw dropped in horror. I was first upset with myself for not assuming that he’d already purchased tickets, but my guilt turned to anger as I read what he’d written.
I wasn’t mad that he was looking for a replacement for me, but annoyed that he rubbed the ticket he might’ve had to eat in my face. Instead of bowing out like a gentleman, refusing to be offended, like he’d previously promised to do had I wanted to cancel in the first place, he handled the entire ordeal like a wounded puppy. I was livid that he was claiming innocence, trying to show me that he was the victim of it all, clearly forgetting that all this time, he’d refused to let me in on the plan. He couldn’t speak with, let alone think with confidence, I was unsure whether he wanted to go anywhere with me, and let’s not forget that he asked me out using The Spirit. Ah, the way to any girl’s heart… blaming one’s interest on someone else’s persuasion.
All of this to tell you what women want, a simple answer to the eternal question:
And don’t post things on Facebook about a girl you’re trying to win over… because she’ll run the other way faster than your browser can update.
“Yes…?”
“Oh, I am so sorry. Really, I am. I didn’t mean to call you during a time that you were driving. I will call back on Monday when you get home. I still need to ask you that question that I told you I was going to ask when I spoke with you last week.”
Light bulb.
“Alright, sounds good. Talk to you then.”
Click.
The weekend passed without a hitch. Miraculously, my health returned. Monday night came, and as I was catching up on some homework, my cell phone began its familiar buzz. Seeing his name, I laughed, remembering the peculiar conversation we’d had a few days before, and then, I answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi.” Obviously, my silent judgment taught him nothing about phone call expectations.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Well, I need to ask you that thing I have been trying to ask you,” he swallowed, audibly, “ and I’ve been wondering for a long time why I've never hung out with you before. I’ve tried to kick the thought, but it hasn’t been working, and…” (Probably pay close attention to this part) “I’m not saying that it’s the spirit pushing me to do this, but, Do you think that maybe sometime this week, we could go out?”
With my mouth agape, I tried to look at things from his point of view, and had a pre-answer conversation in my mind.
Tell him that it wasn’t the spirit.
No, don’t.
But… it wasn’t…
Doesn’t matter. Say yes to the poor soul.
“Well, what did you have in mind?”
“I thought we could go see that movie, maybe. Would you want to do that?”
“Sure! I’d love to.”
The phone call continued another ten minutes. He put me on speaker phone, assuring me that no one was in the room to hear me speaking, though the thought of our conversation being so intimate and private had no place in my mind at all. I heard him flip calendar pages, trying to find a place for me in his week, and in all of that silence, couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t made a plan in the first place. Wasn’t that what you did when you asked someone out? Weren’t you supposed to say, “Hey. Movies. Friday night. 7:30. Come.” And then, if the person couldn’t, you just hung up and tried someone else? All of these thoughts interrupted by…
“Would Thursday work? If not, I’m not offended. You don’t have to go with me.”
“Thursday works.”
“No, really, I understand if you’re up to your waist in school work. It is the last week of the semester. I don’t want to step on your toes.” Not really the right use of the phrase, but I let it slide. I was pretty piled up with homework, but decided I should say yes, anyway. I was never the type to turn down anyone.
“Thursday, it is.”
“Really, you don’t have to come.” At this point, I questioned whether or not he wanted to go out at all. “Also, if you want me to make you dinner, let me know. I could do that. I know you don’t cook. So, I could feed you before the movie starts, if you’re hungry.”
Such an awkward question… statement… which part of speech was that, even?
“How about you decide, and let me know.”
“Okay. Sounds good. See you then—Oh, wait! One more thing. The last thing I was going to ask you was whether or not you were feeling better. Can I bring you anything? Medicine? Kleenex? Gatorade?” While it was a very sweet gesture, I was, in fact, feeling much better, and was in no need of his services.
“No, I’m okay. I’m not sick anymore. Thanks, though. That’s very nice of you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Uh…
“Okay, well…”
“I can hear your coughing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Alright. Have a good night!” About an hour later, this Facebook update showed up on my screen. Word to the wise, when the Facebook status bar asks what you’re thinking, telling the entire truth is not required. In fact, I would discourage doing so.
Thursday came, and, even more so than on Monday, I was drowning in homework. I’d said no to dinner before, but was trying to avoid bailing on the date, completely.
Around 3:00, I was running around campus, trying to finish a sketching assignment, but with the dark cloud of three academic papers due by the end of the night looming above me, I knew I couldn’t finish everything I needed to, while still going out that night. My first instinct was to text message him, explaining how sorry I was for canceling on such short notice, but hit myself on the head for not sooner realizing that he deserved a phone call. So, I dialed.
“Hello?”
“Hi. How are you?”
“Good.”
“Good. Listen, I hate myself for doing this, but—“
“You can’t come. I knew that was it when the phone started ringing. I was afraid of this.” The disappointment in his tone was palpable. A lump formed in my throat, and I wanted to take it all back. This is precisely what I’d tried so hard to dodge.
“I know. I feel so dumb. I’m sorry. Seriously. I underestimated how much homework I would have by the end of the week, and there’s just no way I’m going to be able to finish on time. I’m so sorry. Really, I am.” There was silence on the line, “Are you still there?”
“Yeah.”
Intentional silence. I deserved that.
“Okay. Well, anyway. I hope you have a good night, and I’m sure we’ll be able to do something again, sometime. Take care.”
“Alright. Bye.” Feeling like a world-class snob, I ventured home. I felt like the scum of the Earth. A few minutes passed, and as I walked, ashamed, I loaded Facebook. Not even five minutes after our phone call, he updated his status, asking if someone would take his extra movie ticket that he’d already paid for, which was strategically specified in the post. My jaw dropped in horror. I was first upset with myself for not assuming that he’d already purchased tickets, but my guilt turned to anger as I read what he’d written.
I wasn’t mad that he was looking for a replacement for me, but annoyed that he rubbed the ticket he might’ve had to eat in my face. Instead of bowing out like a gentleman, refusing to be offended, like he’d previously promised to do had I wanted to cancel in the first place, he handled the entire ordeal like a wounded puppy. I was livid that he was claiming innocence, trying to show me that he was the victim of it all, clearly forgetting that all this time, he’d refused to let me in on the plan. He couldn’t speak with, let alone think with confidence, I was unsure whether he wanted to go anywhere with me, and let’s not forget that he asked me out using The Spirit. Ah, the way to any girl’s heart… blaming one’s interest on someone else’s persuasion.
All of this to tell you what women want, a simple answer to the eternal question:
Know what you want, say what you mean.
And don’t post things on Facebook about a girl you’re trying to win over… because she’ll run the other way faster than your browser can update.
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