Matt was my ex boyfriend of 3.5 years whom I met through one of my best friends in college James. They are brothers. The way our relationship ended wasn’t really as fiery are the rest. While we had lived together for about 2 out of the 3 years, I had moved back down to South Florida and he was still finishing up his Undergraduate degree. Although the distance is to blame for a lot of our aggravation, we knew that it wasn’t right and it ended wayyyyy before we were really “done.” I should probably also mention that our fight leading to the end started with us hanging up on each other and ending our almost four year relationship via text. At this point I figured…we’re angry, there’s no maturity left in this situation AND…if it were “right” I’d hear from him again and he’d try to make it right. Long story short, we did not speak again…about a month later I began talk to my (now ex) boyfriend and we started a relationship pretty quickly. He became an afterthought…clearly, something better was sent my way and Matt was not coming up anywhere trying to fight to win me back.  One more note on Matt…. although his brother did not always appreciate that we were dating, Matt always stood up and said this is who I love, I don’t care, get over it. His family is amazing and never made me feel any other way besides accepted and loved.

Nine months go by and my whirlwind romance came to an abrupt end. Although (let’s call him Brad) he was someone whom I never would have considered dating for multiple reasons, we just clicked. It was undeniable that there was chemistry and he seemed to be everything I had been looking for. Things moved quickly and he asked me to move in with him and his sister and another roommate, making it four people and my dog in a small space. He had never lived with someone before, so I’m not sure he entirely knew what he was in for except that maybe it would decrease his need to travel back and forth to my house. Whether or not he really ever wanted me there based on what I know now, who knows. In any case, I’ll spare you the details…this relationship ended in a fury of flames as is traditional with my breakups. With me screaming “don’t you care?” and him turning his back and pretending like it never happened.  I think my big thing with that response is that I cannot really figure out HOW people like that do it. My mom, who’s a psychologist, seems to suggest that people often shove their feelings down in order to rationalize their decision or turn that person into a villain (like in this case telling people he broke up with me and that it was because of a reason that could not be further from the truth). In this case, it seems about right…I’ve had his childhood friends and friends from now alike be like….”dude he made such a mistake, he’ll never find someone like her again.” So basically…by your interesting version of the truth, you’ve now managed to make yourself look more like an ass. My motto when it comes to him is literally…. just when you think he can’t do or say or act more asinine…he does. So far all my predictions about what he’s doing, etc has been freakishly accurate.

All of this being said, I haven’t really spoken about it much because I’m still relatively unsure what to say.  In addition, he seems to think I’m sitting around waiting for him and crying nightly about the fact we’re no longer together. Anyone who reads these blogs….knows differently. Clearly I’m not sitting around, but being proactive about “getting back out there.” To me, I’m mostly angry at myself. I feel duped. Like how silly was I to believe all of the nonsense he was spewing? I lapped it up like a hungry kitten near a warm dish of milk. Pathetic but true, but I trusted him.  In no way, shape, or form am I waiting around to hear from him.   While I’m NOT going to lie and say that I would not be receptive to it, I think he’s too full of pride to admit he’s made a mistake or to come back and beg for forgiveness…or even just talk.

I’ve told you that to now tell you this….

So in tying in with an old post entitled “Nostalgia,” oftentimes I feel like the Universe and Spaghetti Monster in the sky are giving me “signs.”  That is often done through playing certain songs that I haven’t heard in a while or having something happen that sparks a memory. So around Christmas time, Matt popped into my head a bit. From there I hadn’t really entertained the thought of seeing or speaking to him until I saw his mom’s post on Facebook…Matt joined the army. Upon seeing this, I freak out. He’s going to go overseas, something will happen and he’ll be lost forever. I had an uncontrollable urge to speak with him and asked his mom if I could have his email address…”Sure,” she replied, “ but he never checks his email.”   “Thanks,” I say, “ I’ll take my chances.”

It all comes pouring out in the email, in a flood of words as tears stream down my face. Apologizing for the way things ended, telling him he’s a wonderful guy and wishing him all the best. At the bottom I say….if you want to talk, give me a call.

About 20 minutes later, I see a Tallahassee area code phone number pop up and immediately realize…it’s Matt. I let it go to voicemail because I’m not sure what to say, and if I can say it without crying. His voicemail he leaves sounds nervous, telling me he knows it’s been a while but he’d love to chat and to call him. I’m wondering why he sounds nervous when I asked him to call. Weird. So I say to him…”I’m surprised you got your email that quickly, usually you never check it.” To which he replies, “What email?”

I’m floored. He’s called on his own. We chat for 2 hours and catch the other person up, with the exception of course of telling him about my ex-boyfriend “Brad.” From there I got to see him before he ships out and really valued and appreciated the closure that seeing and speaking to him brought me. I wish him nothing but the best and can now put that part of my life behind me.

Upon coming back to South Florida, I had a friend come in town who absolutely loves a bar in Coconut Grove that I also happen to love: Sand Bar. When I lived in Coral Gables I used to go there a lot, and have only been back one time since Brad and I broke up because it’s really close to our old house. Also, his sister loves going there, so why make an awkward situation when you don’t have to? My friend decides that she HAS to go to Sand Bar and I reluctantly decide to go. After all, my ex does not own Coral Gables, nor does he own that bar AND he rarely if ever goes out.

The whole day prior to us going to Sand Bar I have a weird pit in my stomach. All of the songs that remind me of Brad are looping on iPod and even some playing on the radio, including the oldie but goodie…Set It Off by Strafe. I call my friends and tell them I feel weird….I feel like I’m going to see him out tonight and what do they say? “Ohhhh you’re crazy, you’re crazy! Who cares? You won’t!”  A few times I’ve seen his car while I’ve been down there, but had yet to come face to face with him after everything happened.

Two of my best friends were with me as I meticulously picked out my outfit, did my hair and makeup just right and kept repeating, “ I have a bad feeling guys, I just do!” They did not really care and we continued on down to Coral Gables. Now, two friends of mine that LIVE in Coral Gables were also coming too. Actually, one used to be friends with him until my ex decided that as long as this kid was “friends” with me, he could not be ( yet I’m the one pining over him…interesting…). As we’re walking in I am mentally preparing myself….all of a sudden, I hear my friend start going Jerry Springer…

“Really? REALLY? In the first five minutes??” I turn to her and go, “ WHAT are you screaming about?” She nods her head to the left and as I look over, I see….Brad. Staring at me with a shit-eating grin. It’s 10pm, he’s alone and leaving the very bar we’re headed to! This indicates to me that his sister is inside…because he’s clearly alone otherwise…most likely, he dropped her off with her friends and decided he was done for the evening and went home. Of course my first thought is…it’s going to take a lot of pot to burn that image of me out of his brain later! But as we walk on by….I start laughing uncontrollably. My friend turns to me and says, “ WOW, guess you were right….guess you also don’t have to worry about what it’s going to be like when you run into him!” We head inside and decide to sit outside, not looking for his sister. My friends are ready to go Jerry Springer on her, but I tell them to stay away from her at all costs. We don’t need an issue.

The entire night goes by and I’m laughing, drinking, dancing and enjoying my friends. At one point I see his sister go into the bathroom but stay away from there at all costs. No sense in creating more drama upon drama. At the end of the night, we walk right by her laughing and enjoying ourselves WITH Brad’s friend and my friends. Shazam.

About a week later I meet up with my friend Amber for a movie and afterwards we’re talking about my experience with Matt in Tallahassee. I explain how grateful I am that he allowed me some closure, as I know Brad will never…ever….ever….E….V…E…R give me that.  Amber looks at me and goes….”No one ever told you that he was in the bar that entire evening…did they?”

Apparently after we thought he left, he came back into the bar and was there the whole night. From what Amber said, everyone, including his old friend decided that it was better to not tell me since I was having such a great time. They wanted to show him that despite the fact he was in there, he was not a factor in determining how my evening was going to go. They were amazing and I love each of them!

After that, I had to pick up my friends son last week from school and guess where it is…Coral Gables. The whole day, same icky feeling but now I think I’m really being nuts.  On the way down I passed our old place and sigh in relief, thinking…yes…I did it! I passed it and I’m SAFE. All of a sudden, out of the corner of my eye I see his car…he’s in tandem with me but most likely doesn’t realize it. Part of me felt like rolling down the window and shouting… “Are you ready to have a conversation like an adult!?” Then I realized, holy crap…. if he didn’t think I was following him before, he’d surely think so now. So, I pulled back the crazy and drove off…wondering if there will ever be a day when we can sit and talk. I feel like it’s not about blame, or anger, or any of that…just the immense feeling of relief you get when you can finally close the door on a confusing chapter in your life.

M&M seemed awesome “on paper.” With eloquent communication laced with humor and ingenuity, not to mention a weird love for Will Ferrell that not everyone can always appreciate, M&M appeared to be my kind of guy.

When we talked for a bit, his emails were full of wit and flattery, even titling some (after finding out that I’m getting my Masters) Allyson, Master of Kickassery…which anyone who knows me knows that I ate that up…with a spoon… a big ladle actually.

He’s cute, with great teeth and curly hair, which I go gaga for. Perhaps I’m biased, who knows. Regardless, he is precious in a baby-faced kind of way that you start to think wow, you can’t be 31! But then you get closer and realize oh yeah…it’s possible. Now anyone that knows me, also knows that I never choose boyfriends through what they look like. My type is often referred to as lagoon creatures and as my one friend put it recently…swamp monkeys.  It’s always about the connection. Usually the quickest way to speak to my heart is laugh at my jokes. Laugh hard and seem sincere. I love that.

M&M is talking about Nirvana and The Toadies…we’re having this fabulous night. Out of nowhere this older man with way to many Backstreet Boy highlights steps over to chat with us. He explains he’s here with his ex-wife, who’s “ hot, right?” But she’s having problems with her 21 year old boyfriend…mainly because she’s 45.  On the other hand, this guys  girlfriend works at the fire station with him (clearly by now you’ve realized they’re fire…people?). Raul is his name, and he and his 22-year-old girlfriend are in love. They make porno together and discuss all things fire.  M&M is a government worker, so Raul becomes an automatic “bro”, engaging him in conversation laughing, making jokes and crank calling government officials. He keeps looking over at me, going “ M&M…bro this girl….is a cool chick. I can just tell. A badass, cute, cool chick.” I’m like…thank you Raul, so nice of you to say, etc… Pretty soon M&M leaves to go to the bathroom and I’m left alone with Raul who leans over to me and says…”You going home with him tonight?”

“No,” I reply, trying to avert my eyes and give him the hint I’m not interested in pursuing this conversation any longer. “Oh C’mon…go home with him…ride him a little. What would it hurt?”

All I’m thinking is…of course this would happen. Why not? If I didn’t have bad luck with dating, I wouldn’t date at all.

At that moment, Raul leans over and says…”You know, if you weren’t going home with M&M tonight, you’d be going home with me.” I whipped around, looked him dead in the eye and said…”You know Raul…I think I’m a bit too old for you.  I’m 25 after-all…Plus, I can’t film any porno’s… anymore. Sorry.” M&M sauntered back into the bar and at this point I’m ready to go.

Long story short, we leave and head somewhere else….it’s at this point he divulges he had 8 cats at one time, now he has 3. If that’s not weird enough at 31 to have 8 cats…I could keep going. While at the bar, he mentions to me…you know, your last name doesn’t sound very Jewish. I mention that it’s actually my middle name that is my “family” name with the Romanian/Jewish background. Upon hearing my middle name he pauses for a second…like something clicked with him….which I would never have thought twice about…..until this moment…..

After our date I decided I wasn’t into it. So I started ignoring phone calls and trying not to get too involved. A week or so later, I get a text…he’s had a hard day and needs to talk to someone. Being an idiot, I cave and say alright, tell me what happened and lets see if we can find a solution. He thanks me, tells me he feels much better and while he’s in a sharing mood….he has something to tell me.

“Do you want to know a secret?”

“Uhm….sure?”

“No really, do you want to know?”

I’m getting irritated.

“YES…just tell me!”

“ (name protected) Jody Finkle knows a lot about me”

At this point some things are starting to come together…Jodie Finkle is my Aunt,  who is a psychologist.

“JODIE FINKLE? I don’t remember telling you my aunts name…”

“You didn’t.”

Turns out, he was one of my Aunt’s clients…fabulous.

Anyone ready to start that monastery? Just sayin’….

Jim:  “Yeah I used to leave the dog outside but bro, it wasn’t intentional. This one time though it was hailing and I forgot about it and my cousin got upset. So I was like…is it okay? Then I remembered like…whatever, the dog has nine lives.” And also… Jim: “BRO all this work is stressing me out. It’s raising my calories bro!”

This same dude is really infamous for making super questionable comments under his breath such as, “I’ll lick your neck” to other co-workers then screaming, “it’s not gay bro! I didn’t say that! He’s lying!” then denying it vehemently right after (wouldn’t you?). It goes without saying we laugh a lot back here, but nothing compared to this story of his first (and only) time calling  Live Links.

For those of you who don’t know what Live Links is, it’s essentially like online dating except via phone. Also, you don’t get a picture of the person, you just get to talk to them on the phone and connect to singles in your area. Ever see those commercials where it’s like 3 busty blondes laying on a rug in full makeup and lingerie saying, “Oooh…I didn’t feel like going out tonight, so I just stayed in and called Live Links.” Then it shows them chatting and laughing coyly, like they made the best…decision…ever… Jim learned the power of advertising the hard way…pun intended… At 3am one boring night, Jim saw a Live Links commercial. With nothing else going on, he decided to go ahead and give it a try. After all, it’s 3am, nothing to do…why not? Jim decides to call several numbers to browse profiles deciding on what girl to “pick out.” Four phone calls later, after not finding anyone attractive…he found someone… Jim claims she sounded attractive via phone and they spoke for two days, exchanging MySpace profile’s as seeing pictures of each other was necessary before meeting up. From what Jim could tell, she was “bangin’” so they set up a date to hook up.

The night that his mystery girl was headed down from Tampa to Fort Lauderdale to meet up with him, Jim started to have second thoughts. Thinking that he could back out gracefully, he mentions that maybe its best they don’t’ meet up. The problem here was that she was already half way to Fort Lauderdale and was not interested in turning back without meeting him! Feeling like there was no other option, Jim agrees that she should still come over and waits to meet his Live Link Princess at the door.

Jim hears a knock at the door and is SHOCKED to find out his princess is closer to Shrek then Fiona. At a startling 300lbs, his mystery lady stood before him tattooed from the neck down, wearing top and bottom gold grills and a wig. At this juncture, he’s wondering where his busty blonde is…oh and hating himself for relying on MySpace pictures where angle was clearly a factor! But what to do? She was there, standing in front of him and not taking “go away” as an option. He had to go through with it…

They head towards his room, where the lights are still on and Jim is very able to see…the situation…she slams him onto his bed, and he starts fumbling with her girdle unable to un-hook it. She slaps his hand away annoyed and reaches back, unleashing the fury beneath… He’s ready to get down to business, to just get it over with and forget this experience entirely. As he starts to “get going,” she stops him saying….” Wait. I want you to take of my panties.” Jim is panicked and confused and looks up at her asking, “What panties?” “The ones I wore here,” she replied. He searched for them, eventually unveiled them and they got down to business.

When he ends his story, as we’re all rolling on the office floor, he turns to us and says… “Bro, you guys don’t even know bro…I turned off the light, and it all made sense.”

Maybe it’s because I’m looking back on 2009 and thinking “WOAH, where the hell did that time go?” This year feels like it’s been “extra long,” but I’ve also made so many changes that even I myself can barely keep up. I’m 30 lbs lighter, I’ve moved THREE times this year, ended two relationships, gone through three ( I’m on my fourth) job, taken my first trip to Canada, ridden into the blustery “waves” of Niagara on a tiny boat, fulfilled middle school fantasies, been on stage again for the first time since high school, performed standup comedy, started my blog, met Mark Paul Gosslar and Justin Kirk ( from Weeds!), ended friendships and started new ones and so much more. It’s amazing how much has happened and with such force! I’d do a monthly play by play but I swear that we’d be here through NEXT December. Often times I have an overwhelming urge to contact those I shouldn’t. Ever get that? I think its part of my nature. Whenever I feel like there is “unfinished business,” I get an urge to be like…hey…it’s been a while, but….

I’d like to blame it on my i-i-i-i-i-i-iPod this time, for re-hashing many old things at one time. For me, nostalgia can be triggered through anything, but hits me the hardest through song. What’s funny, is one of the relationships that ended last year was a three and a half year relationship with my college boyfriend.  He hated three songs with a passion, as he was more into punk (as was I at the time) and my lifelong musical passion (anyone who knows me knows this!) is rap. Usher’s song, “Up in the club,” was a song he hated more than anything. Worse than that, however, was “London Bridge” by Fergie, which I was absolutely obsessed with when it came out and forced him to make it my ring tone…that’s how serious it was. Finally, “Sexual Seduction” by Snoop Dogg made him go absolutely banana sandwich. Over time, he grew to not hate “Sexual Seduction” after I made that HIS ring tone and “London Bridge” eventually went away. The song that always stuck was that stupid “Up in the Club,” and when I moved away from him to move home a little over a year ago, I remember driving in the car and listening to a mix he made me, relatively stone faced. As soon as I changed the CD and put on my iPod and Usher’s voice rang through my speakers, I began hysterically crying. Amazing….Boyz II Men’s “Hard to say goodbye”…nothing! Usher’s “Up in the Club,” hysterics! I thought about all we’d endured over three and a half years and all I’d miss as the song thumped on. For me, it’s always the memory associated with the song.

So you understand this is no “fluke” occurrence, I’ll tell you THIS. In middle school, seventh grade, my first “boyfriend,” and I went to our dance and our song became “Butterfly Kisses.” Pretty sure it was also the first “slow dance” we danced to…at my bat mitzvah. Clearly, this is not on my iPod. Just an example to show that I remember over the years! It’s like certain songs get ruined, because the instant they hit your ears it’s like you’re right back there in that moment. Other’s from middle school include the booty drop song, where it instantly also takes me back to dances with me and my closest friends dropping it low ( for 13 year olds) and thinking we were the hottest thing ( “Free willy, free willy, fat load oooh ohh ohhhhhhh”).

My first serious boyfriend was in high school, and we were also together for about three and a half years. What did we know? Incubus was both of our favorite bands at the time, and 311 was right there on the backburner with New Found Glory.  He actually wound up expanding my musical collection, but two big songs will always be “him,” most likely forever. “Drive,” by Incubus was a big one for us. He is a year older and went to college first, and it just was supposed to signify that no matter what, we’d be there. Also after the breakup, the lyrics I believe were “helping explain” some things to me. I was young and dumb, what do you want from me? In addition, “Do You Right” from 311, as it was the first time I’d heard it when he put it on a CD for me. The CD also included (I cannot believe I remember this, it’s been like…5, 6…8 years?!) “Patience” by Guns N’ Roses and “He loves me, he loves you not,” but that’s a whole other story not appropriate for “everyone.” Forever those songs will take me back to sitting in a black grand prix at the beach, to hooking up car stereos in his garage, Disney trips and nights where nothing mattered but each other. Ahhh , young, puppy love. Is there anything better?!

There are songs that take me back to my first two years in college, like “Shake It like a Salt Shaker,” which if anyone who reads this worked at QDOBA with me, you have SEEN me do this! HAHA! In addition, you’ve seen “Love is a Battlefield” re-enacted damn near perfectly! I hear those songs and I’m back with Ms. Bobayna and Brandy, shaking my booty at work, laughing all the way. It takes me back to hanging out with co-workers until all hours of the morning, getting into trouble with silly Starbucks AND CompUSA employees and trying not to throw up the next morning from being out all night and not sleeping.

Other songs like, “Grillz,” by Nelly and Paul Wall transport me to Lower Lounge in Tallahassee, and the year I was so fortunate to meet three of my best friends. “Holler Back Girl,” takes me to another best friend of mine saying, “my mom thinks she’s saying…I aint no Harlem fat girl…yikes.” That song was also heard as I arrived in the dorm parking lot several evenings my sophomore year, where I was also fortunate enough to meet the best friends I could have ever asked for. College rocked. Nothing more to it than that

More recently, as I struggle still to bounce back fully from this more recent break up, I find myself affected much more by songs. As you can assume by now, they’re not normal songs like “Love Drunk,” by Boys Like Girls or anything pop oriented or bitter girl music. Ironic enough, I’m affected by songs like “Set It off” by Strafe, “Luccini (this is it)” by Camp Lo, “Hood N***a,”  “Body Rock,” and almost any other Gucci Mane song. They bring back laughter, the bring back tiny moments that I know that I’d prefer to hang onto rather than the ones that were sad. On one of the first mornings I was at his house, I asked where I should place something and he turned to me and said, “ to the left…I suggest…” and then proceeded to do the “Set It Off” song to the dance of Carlton Banks from Fresh Prince. It was unexpected and funny, as I coincidently found him to be for quite some time. Once everything ended, my friend Ash suggested I listen to a song called “Wishes,” by Superchick. It’s really like…sad angsty music, but I found the lyrics to eerily coincide with how I was feeling. That’s probably the one and only time that I’ve felt some sort of connection to a song that was mildly appropriate for the situation. I dislike bringing him, or his name, or our situation up on here as it’s still too new and despite how I feel, I can’t bring myself to truly talk about it at length for various reasons. But I bring this all up for a reason…

I’ve been on a really good streak of good luck. I hate to jinx myself, but its happening! My friend “K” has been affectionately referring to me as a P.I.M.P, which is not my style, until recently. My previous two relationships were interesting…tumultuous, serious, and at the end of it…a great disappointment. Not so much because of the relationship itself, but because of several other factors. Mainly, the way it ends always seems to disappoint. Actually, all of my “serious” relationships have ended in bizarre/dramatic ways. The first two were probably the worst (Valentine’s Day and through text), but this most recent one stung a bit more because of the magnitude of feelings involved. With the other two, I sort of always expected them to fail on some level. This recent one was the biggest disappointment, as it made me feel angry at myself, gullible and questioned what had really been real those past nine months which I’m pretty sure is the worst feeling in the entire world. By comparison, I was with the other two much longer, but have never been as connected or invested as I was previously.

To revert back to the “signs,” portion of everything, I’ve had a lot of those recently. Well, continued signs I suppose that don’t particularly pertain to one specific person and or situation. I always feel like when I’m in a certain mood and my iPod plays certain songs that pump me up or play with my emotions that it’s “someone’s way of telling me something.” Does that ever happen to anyone else?? I’m pretty sure I’ve heard other people say that! (Note the “pretty sure.”)

I had ended a relationship about a year ago in conjunction with my relationship, but have remained close with a different family member. I woke up about a week ago, to a notification from Facebook that the family member to which I speak of had wrote on my wall. In addition, Facebook sent me a notification that my ex (who we are no longer friends on Facebook), wanted me to confirm him as a relative on family link. Now, I know it wasn’t him, that it was Facebook, but it struck me as odd. None of my family is friends with him; we’ve all removed him from family link, etc. How did Facebook have the intuition to do that? Why was this old family member from a previous relationship on my wall and in my email? It was a double whammy for me. My biggest problem is that I lack the ability to ever fully “let go.” I let go to a degree, but always want MORE, whether it is an explanation, apology, what have you. As I’ve mentioned previously, who doesn’t want to know that the person has finally had that “come to Jesus moment,” as we say in literature, where they run after you down an airport as you board a plane to anywhere ( thanks Disney and Hollywood) screaming, “ don’t go! I’m sorry! My life is exponentially worse without you in it!”

In any case, speaking with that old family member and having it be around the Holiday time, her favorite time of year, sparked memories by a lake with a thousand Santa’s, one of my best friends from college and someone whom I shared a lot with. It gave me this lump in my throat, this undeniable feeling of nostalgia. It helped facilitate my desire to reach out to two of those people, only to find that one had also removed themselves from Facebook entirely. While I haven’t spoke to them in well over a year, I do hope they know that they’ve been a crucial part of my life. When I hear your songs, I will honor those memories in the best light possible, as they deserve. Wakeboarding, Fires on the beach and what I cherish more than anything, especially now…being treated like one of your family.

As for the other situation, who can say? People say drop it, let it go, you can do much better and I always respond the same. After what’s transpired, why on earth would I NOT want to drop it? Its little moments, like random iPod songs, that make me remember the good stuff and seem to twist their way into the cracks in my mind and heart that infiltrate and take over my rational side. I’m in no way bitter, nor do I feel sorry for myself or what have you. At this juncture, I’m just looking to be done with it and cannot understand why the past cannot stay where it belongs. People say he is regretful, look at what he does, etc (which I refuse to go into more detail about). I say, if he was, I’d know…he’d build a bridge and get over himself. Realize that pride isn’t worth all of this and that it’s okay to be “wrong”; instead of allowing himself to talk himself in and out of what he wants, as he often does. He thinks I’m trying to “get to him,” when in reality, I truly wish I never met him at all…Here I am dating, going out and living my life and you think I’m at home, still trying to “get to you?”

Yet, there is a birthday coming up…and despite the fact he couldn’t muster a happy birthday for me, I feel compelled to reach out (but won’t). Again, it’s like habit. When I go to events I think he’d like, or restaurants we’ve been too or even when I was in Disney for my birthday, all I kept thinking was…here I am, on this perfect day, with my friends and family and the only thing that I’m sitting here thinking, is that the only thing that would’ve made this day more perfect, was having you here. Those feelings have subsided, and I force myself to date and continue to suppress the residual emotions of confusion, anger, hurt and more scarily, whatever love remains.

Again I’m off track, I apologize….A.D.D. Yesterday, my iPod legitimately played any and every song that could have brought up something from the past. As I sat at work, wondering what the odds were that it was purely coincidental, I tried thinking about what I should take from that. Maybe nothing. Maybe it really is no more than my iPod on shuffle, coincidently picking up songs of significance…but if I believed that, then this post wouldn’t be here, would it? I’m still trying to learn…who I am, what I’m supposed to do and who I WANT to be.

The iPod, like my family and friends reads me impeccably. It knows when I need to hear a good Postal Service Song or Jacks Mannequin Song, as opposed to a Rise Against or Streetlight Manifesto. Sometimes a silly song like Miley Cirus, “Nobody’s Perfect,” or some Nick Swardson standup comedy. Other times it’s Gucci Mane, Ludacris, or Purple Ribbon All-stars. But mainly, it knows when to remind me to “Always look on the Brightside of life,” like Monty Python says and to never forget where I’ve been. Because, as is the case with most things in life, where I’ve been and what has happened has helped me become the person I am today. And I’ve got to tell you, I’m enjoying her more and more everyday! So take a minute today and see what your iPod shows you…it may just surprise you

I swear that I continue to date so that I have a continuous stream of free material. Terrible? Maybe. Worse for me to immerse myself in these awkward situations then for you to read them? Let’s hope! I wish I could say I’m dating because I’m interested in starting something again, but anyone who’s been around me these past few months knows that although I’ve recently ended a relationship…a serious one…I’m not particularly ready to eh…date again. Whole different blog entirely, one that I do not wish to share (although it’s not as if he’s reading this). In short, I’m having a hard time pretending to be over it, when I’m not. So instead I’ve been occupying my time with others, in the hopes that one of these will not just be a fluke, and I’ll wind up really liking someone and realizing that someone who tears out your heart to place on display doesn’t deserve a second thought.

ANYWAY!

Recently I wound up chatting with someone who I have had a little bit of genuine interest in. Not only is he educated, in a great place job and life wise, but he looks a lot like an old crush of mine from middle school. This is about to get disturbing…but I loved that he spoke another language (H-O-T) and that he literally looked like this other guy almost EXACTLY. Perfect fantasy to reality love story right there! (Don’t worry; I’ll Yikes myself for that one!) So he happens to call me on Sunday, and asks for a last minute date and I’m super excited, as he’s again…one of the only people I’ve even had any remote interest in for some time. “Sure, I’d love to meet up! Where and when?” He’s not from South Florida originally, but he happens to pick this classy wine bar that’s on the beach in Fort Lauderdale. Great start.

I head in to find him and wow does he look like my middle school love. Now I’m really excited, as he’s not a lagoon creature (my term for highly unattractive and misshapen) and he’s turning out to be rather well put together. As we finish our bottle of wine, he continues to tell me a little bit more about him, and we’re hitting it off! We begin talking about traveling, and he’s impressed that I’ve seem most of the U.S. by car. “Wow, that’s great! When I was driving down from Canada to move here, I passed through a few places but nowhere for long enough to explore. My favorite trip was to Spain and France, where my friends stopped off at this nude beach.”

Suddenly I’m thrown off. MEN…listen carefully…MAJOR turn off…talking about sexual things via phone prior to first date, or ON the first date.

“So did you…enjoy the nude beach…?” “Well, I wasn’t going to do it, but all my friends were doing it! SO I just took my pants off and voile (the other language he speaks fluently is French…just saying….hot).” “Wow…pretty adventurous. How was that?” At this point I’m not really willing to be affected by this. He seems about 90% normal, why care that he is confident enough to drop it in public? If he’s willing to do that…his eh…confidence must be pretty…together. Next question was in regards to the South Beach nude beach, to which I reply that I know it exists but would not go to that sort of thing.

Not my bag.

Then I quickly recovered by explaining it’s pretty normal for that type of thing in South Beach, as the mentality down there makes it seem like the Europe of FL. I can’t believe how normal that night appeared to be. A whole date without any MAJOR sense of weirdness to you? You don’t seem to be unusually attached or afflicted, uneducated or unmotivated…what’s wrong with you?! As is normally the case, it was allllllllll a matter of time. I should have realized little signs indicating his love for nudity, the act of being nude and general overall hatred for clothing. “Want to take a walk on the beach? Or we could have another bottle of wine? Or didn’t you say that you lived close to here?” I text my friend and tell her that everything is fine, as we have a code that she’ll ask if my mom called…if she did, I’m ok and enjoying myself. If I say no, it means my dog is sick; she is my roommate and needs me to come home NOW. I also tell her that I think he’s trying to trick me a bit into going back to my house…she says if I’m not carrying Mase, or a knife…do none of the above.

I decide she’s being paranoid and agree to the walk on the beach. Sadly, as mentioned above, due to my residual feelings and ridiculous desire for what I once had…I compare everything (subconsciously) to what once “was,” including connection. I’m on the fence about how I’m feeling with this one, but the walk on the beach goes seamlessly and I’m stunned by his normalcy and down to earth attitude. Now it’s time to walk back to the car. I’m parked in a dark lit place, but a place I’m familiar with so I’m not nervous. He walks me back to the car and I agree to drive him back to his.

At first, it seems harmless…until he grabs my face and kisses me like he is attacking me. Many quick HARD kisses while saying things in French in-between…”C’est Bon.” I’m officially turned off and am ready to drop him off. I HATE forward acts on a first date. Suddenly, he asks…can you take my shirt off? I’m a little itchy and want to make sure it’s not a rash or spreading… WHAT? “Eh…no, I’m sorry. I’ll take you back to your car and you can check it out. Best of luck with that.”

I am not kidding, as you should all know by now…He literally gets out of the car, stands up and RIPS his clothing off. “Remember when I said that I had never been to the nude beach down here?” “Uh…uh…yes…” I’m insanely nervous at this point. WTF just happened Dr. Jekyll!? “Well…I lied. You see, I love being nude. Can’t get enough of it as a matter of fact! Had a really nice time, I WILL call you…” Before I could say don’t bother, my façade of a decent man took off running with his clothes down a back alley…nude. I’m sure he composed himself (one can hope!) before returning to his car or out in the busy Fort Lauderdale Beach scene…but HOLY COW.

I’ve got an amazing family, a loving mother, two ridiculous brothers and extended family up the wazoo. My friends are several different kinds of awesome; I’m finishing up this (useless) Master’s program, I have a bright future to look forward too. What am I complaining about? I was just pardoned, so to speak, from something before it had the potential to explode and get worse (vague intentionally), so I ask…are we greedy? For my Thanksgiving section, I could totally talk about the absurd stories from last night…but I’ll summarize those and then tell a few stories about the friends I’m so thankful for. I’m sorry if this doesn’t cover everyone, but I’ll try to get some good “YIKES” highlights from as many as I can J

FROM LAST NIGHT:

My Uncle is the King of Gross, full of yikes-tastic moments such as slurping spilled Jello off the kitchen countertop when it tilted over prior to being chilled, or eating old McDonald French fries out of the car, that had been sitting on the car mats for several…days. This Holiday he outdid himself by taking one of the shrimp cocktail and dipping it into the cake batter that was getting ready to be turned into cupcakes. Yikes Uncle…big time yikes. Once again, you will hold your title as King of Gross!

I’ve got two younger cousins, one being seventeen and one being twenty four. You’d never know she was twenty four, as she has the ability to act like a seven year old. “D” has the ability to transform from an uppity New Yorker into a bratty, whiny, seven year old (my brother affectionately refers to her as ‘Bitch Bot,’ as her Transformer name). We’re in the kitchen making those aforementioned cupcakes when my cousin decides to spray Pam on my brother’s face, turning him into a glistening, greasy mess. She is laughing, assuming there will be no retaliation. My brother comes from behind her, spraying a good deal of it in her hair and then running towards the bathroom. Now, he’s made only one thing clear…if you’re going to spray me, do not spray my Romanian soccer jersey (as he could only get it over there and spent quite a deal of money on it, since it’s the one our grandfather played for!). “D” decided to one up herself, dipping into the cake batter and running after him and (you guessed it!) getting it on the back of his neck and back of the jersey. My brother began to protest “WHAT DID I TELL YOU!?!” as “D” ran away smirking. “Relax T, it will wash out. GOD.” He was waiting, calculating the exact moment to get her in a vulnerable state. That’s right, don’t do anything for a few minutes and THEN come with it! All of a sudden, while talking to “D,” I see a hand come around and here comes “T!” He had cake batter on his finger and gave her the nastiest wet Willy I’ve ever seen…ever. Cake batter spilled from her ear and into her hair and she whined, “TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT…uuuugggh it’s in my hair! I just washed it!” Without missing a beat, my brother turned right around and said… “Relax “D,” It’ll wash out….GOOOOOOD.” Priceless.

In regards to my friends…

I’m thankful for my lifelong friends, who have stuck through the good times and bad, with too many to actually name here. I’m thankful for the friends I made in middle and high school and am lucky that so many of them still play such a large role in my life. I’d have to say from that group, one of the best stories of all time was the Hershey Park band trip, where we almost got struck by lightning after not listening to our group leader (typical) and getting stuck in a humongous downpour. When we got back to the hotel, we made the biggest to do out of it, screaming “WE ALMOST DIED!” Let me tell you how many people thought we were legit. I remember a house party, with a crazy girl screaming outside “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!? WHYYYYYYYY,” because a friend of mine had denied ever dating her. I also remember imitating that same friend in the choir room with several others and having him angry at me forever. I remember dances, coming home after, talking about our “boyfriends,” or who we really wanted to go with. All the notes, the cards, the weird high school drama that went into our ridiculous teenage angst years! College was amazing, and I’m so thankful for those friends I’ve been able to remain close with. I’ll forever be thankful for those nights, whether it be sitting on grates outside of our dorm chatting until the morning, having hurricane parties, watching Will Ferrell movies until our eyes bleed, being saved from disgusting frat houses at all hours of the morning, driving me around in a green cavalier crying to some Yellowcard song, B-A-N-A-N-A-S, “ARE JOU OKAY?,” having people to come home to that I absolutely adored, who took me in as their own (they were already good friends) ba-ra-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pum. For my twenty fifth birthday, five people came together to make my day extraordinary, showing me that at a point in time when I felt extremely alone, I was so far from it.

My point is, we’re lucky…truly all very lucky. Yesterday showed me that no matter how down we can feel, or how rough things can seem…life is quite good. We have friends and family, a roof over our head, an education, and a budding life. For some reason it seems cheesy, but it is really so true. So, today, I just wanted to thank my friends and family for rolling with me through this journey and of course, to my readers for taking time out of your day to listen to my nonsense! I’m lucky to have each and every one of you!

So a couple of years ago, a jackass “writer” by the name of Greg Behrendt came out with a piece of drivel entitled, “ He’s Just Not That Into You,” which I’m sure 99% of you have heard of and/or read. Why so bitter at Greg? Because I felt as though it was the “idiot girl’s guide to relationships,” and wondered WHAT woman would really need this mega dose of common sense. Then I snapped back to reality, noticing that most women DO in fact need this book. Some of my closest friends suffer from the same afflictions that the women portrayed do, unable to let things go, stalking, making excuses for their boyfriends/hookups/husbands. My personal favorite is holding on to a relationship that is more fitting of the same mentality you take with a dead limb…cut it off, before the yuck spreads any further.

While the book was awful, I DID see the movie and will confess right here and now…that I did enjoy it and found I could relate to it a twinge more  then the book (which with me is rarely ever the case). It’s a dose of reality for those who would rather deny, deny, deny then own up to what’s really going on. For me, I identify with (I’m sure many of you?) one line in particular, where Justin Long’s character says, “Everyone wants to be the exception to the rule.” It’s true. That’s why we date, why we sit near the phone months and years after a relationship (figuratively, not literally) waiting to have that person who pulverized your heart like hamburger meat come back and stand bravely in your face, proclaiming, “Leaving you was the biggest mistake of my life and without you, I’m not whole.” Doesn’t everyone want that validation? That knowledge that without you these past few weeks, months, years, their lives have been full of suck? The point is, that it’s clearly a very rare situation…trust me…in all three of my “serious” relationships, I’m guilty of being that person and in ALL these years, I’ve never once heard anything even remotely resembling those words slip from one of their mouths.

But this post is not about that. Today I want to examine the reverse side of “He’s Just Not That Into You,” as men rarely get labeled as crazy as women or even in the near realm. It’s not a talked about subject and it should be. Just because you come after me and I turn you down does not make me a bitch. Similarly, how you would believe you’re not a jerk, just for the same reason. I’m going to give some of my own experiences and examine what I’ve come in contact with over the years. Can any of you think of other examples, or do any of these ring true for you??

“The Incessant”

Because we cannot possibly make this a 20 page blog, I’ll condense all the obsessions into one massive category. First, let’s talk about the technology obsession and what it means when I do not call you back for longer than a week. If you called me on Monday, sent me two texts on Tuesday and an e-mail Wednesday, my skin is most likely crawling with the thought of seeing anything with your name on it come through any facet of communication devices. Men aren’t like that, you say? False. Again, I like to be equal opportunity when I “bash,” and can tell you that men are just as bad as women, sometimes worse.  EXAMPLE! (We’ll call him Paul).

BACKGROUND:

Paul is a nice guy, who for all intensive purposes tends to be super normal. He emails expressing interest and you think, not half bad. Seems to be relatively attractive with a well put together email (also rare) so you decide to write back and find out what he’s all about. He writes back immediately, telling his story…went to college for half a year, worked for a major cell phone company for four years and was terminated because he’s a “victim of the economy.” Lost his job, lost his apartment and moved in with his family to get on his feet. Two weeks later, he’s in a major accident and his car is totaled. Paul has gone on multiple interviews and hasn’t been able to find a job, hanging out mostly with his seven year old niece and mom. He’s a yes man and a pleaser, which is easy to tell from the get go, replying to everything I say with a “me too!” or a “that’s so great to hear, I’ve been looking for that for so long!” His idea of using a big word was pedantic, and says he’s often told he’s a champion when it comes to vocab. So  talking continued for a few more times, as to not appear rude until finally, it was time to make it clear that we were ultimately not a match.

He would IM 25 times a day, no exaggeration. When I’d respond, I’d be short or wouldn’t respond at all, causing him to text me asking, “Are you online right now? Because it says you are.” From there he’d call, explaining he’s bored, just wanted to say hi, etc. Then finally after explaining that I’m not in a good place, not ready for anything and also not particularly interested, I feel as though he’d got the message. After dodging him for two weeks (felt no need to block him), he IM’s me, asking how I am, if things have slowed down and if I’ll go out with him now. I say no, I’m sorry, and he should move on…following the IM was an email, asking me to clarify my decision and a text and phone call telling me he sent me an email. Now, as some of you may know, I’m super open when it comes to dating people and will often times give those a chance that others wouldn’t.  I say that, to explain that while he was in a bad place in his life, I may still have stopped to see what he was all about, had he not of blown up my media mediums, even after I expressed NO interest. If you have to call me to tell me you texted me, text me to tell me you emailed me and email me to get me to respond to your IM’s or bizarre line of questioning…SHE IS JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU.

Desperation is an ugly stink…and he was bathing in it.

“The Misleader”

This type of delightful gentleman actually gets bundled into another kind of guy whom I’m having trouble naming. I suppose it’s misleading in two ways: one, they portray themselves to be something different in their pictures or actions. Second, they themselves are mislead to believe that they are more fantastic then they really are, which is typically spoon fed early on. These types are both equally annoying, and oftentimes feel justified seeking perfection (which newsflash, does NOT exist) as they themselves feel that they’ve already achieved it. We have to tackle these two different examples of misconception independently.

Type A: I look and act like this, I swear

Something that tends to happen frequently is when people decide to be someone else to please someone else. Or, they just don’t photograph particularly well, so there are several types of pictures of them to which you’re unsure what they truly look like. OR…OR! You’re fully aware of what you look like, but find pictures that subtly cover what you’re insecure about. EXAMPLE: (We’ll call him Joe).

Joe seems like a good guy as well, interested in health and fitness to the extent he recently switched careers to “health promotion,” from what I have no idea as he’s not willing to disclose. He sends me an email, that I’m beautiful and interesting and he would be “honored” (I am not putting words in here, just literally regurgitating it) to chat with me. Honored? Alright…trying too hard…but what the hell, I’ll see what he looks like and what he’s into. There are two pictures of Joe, that are actually the same picture up twice, showcasing Joe sitting at a bar with a hat and sunglasses on drinking a beer. He starts talking to me about how he switched into his new field because “the world is old and fat.” Hmm…so you must be pretty fit? Pretty active? Health nut? But how am I to be sure? So I ask for another picture, one that does not involve the hat or sunglasses and he obliges, telling me that his hair is really short and that he’s not bald. “Okay,” I reply and wait for the message. I’ve got mail…and boy am I shocked to find he is in fact bald in the front and a little heavy. NOW I HAVE NO QUALMS with him being heavy, as I mentioned above (and anyone who knows my dating track record can attest to) I never decide who to date based on looks, as long as there ends up being some sort of a physical attraction. Most of the time, I prefer a very tall guy and I could never date a guy who is supermodel thin (it’s just not for me). BUT, when you profess to be a trainer and you profess to be health obsessed and say things like “the world is old and fat,” you better be in perfect shape. Fail. Then he proceeds to say, “I bet you don’t want to talk to me anymore…” to which I answer, “Why is that?” although what I’m thinking is, no, I don’t like people who sort of…lie from the get go, no…and he replies, “I’m no Brad Pitt.” Lack of confidence is so sexy, topped off by your general demeanor and outlookon life as well as your…photos that were a little off…we’re done before it begins. If you are negative, lie or create a little “fib,” or lack confidence, OR do not practice what you preach…what happened to “PAUL” above can happen to you.

Which it did…but unfortunately, Joe also violated another no-no…do NOT write things when you do not know someone like… “Hey you!” or “hey sexy.” It’s revolting, it’s a turn off and it’s yikes worthy. It’s also a sure fire way for us to not respond, leaving you scratching your bald head wondering why we don’t reply…because, my dear offender…SHE IS JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU.

Type B: I’m awesome, because I say so

There’s probably been at least one occasion in our dating lives that people have stopped you and been like…what are you thinking? Why date a lagoon create? Why date a heinous bitch? So on, so forth. But for some of us, we give people chances because we believe that they’re unique and special and all that barf worthy stuff. Have you ever encountered someone who you may have known years ago, who liked you, things happen and then suddenly, YOU’RE obsessed? And I don’t mean “you,” but I mean they begin to believe that you’re obsessed with them. Part of you at the time is like, wow, they liked me so long ago and they’re interested and maybe I missed out. So you go out on a limb, because just as you want to be the exception, you figure everyone else does too. Things happen, you think…”great! I’ve made a good decision to explore past feelings in a mature, adult setting.” False. FALSE, FALSE, FALSE. First of all, on a tangent, I’m not sure any mature people even exist and secondly…you can never be too careful. You just can’t. Thinking is a highly dangerous exercise, and acting on your thoughts can be lethal.

There was a friend of mine who knew of someone from middle school who was interested in her, and while they hadn’t spoken in many years, he found her and contacted her through some form of social media. “Wow, you are still so beautiful. How are you?!” She apparently had noticed time had been kind to him and he blossomed into a pretty good looking dude. “You don’t look so bad yourself!” They chatted, he begged her to come visit him and voila! Guess what happened? I trust my readers to be smart, so eh…you know what that means. From there it was a cute and cuddly morning and lots of appreciation for her coming to see him and being with him, etc. When she returned she tried chatting with him as normal, and (shockingly enough!) he became squeamish, stating that he wasn’t really ready for a relationship. From what I understand, that’s not what he was saying prior to their hookup, but he’s becoming a singer and couldn’t risk the chances of “blossoming further” and not being able to spread his seed to many more…lucky girls. Her reaction was more of a “get over yourself” attitude, as she was apparently just trying to keep it friendly. What I don’t get is, where someone like that gets off turning it around. She wasn’t sitting there begging him for a ring, or even a title as boyfriend girlfriend, just wanted to chat every now and then. She says that it was misconstrued, and being the hilarious woman she is, saved and shared the conversations with me. In the beginning, highly interested and then after the “incident,” fell off back into lagoon creature land thinking he’ll make it big as a Hollywood singer and will no longer need her. I suggested, that perhaps it’s because he wanted her so bad in middle school, then got her, then felt it right to be like…”PSYCHE! Gotcha bitch!” Who knows…but frankly, this kid isn’t going to find an Angelina Jolie or Megan Fox…not that he should’ve settled with her ( if he wasn’t happy!) but as crazy as men deem women to be, isn’t it just as crazy to ASSUME that she wanted anything more? It wasn’t like she was acting like the above men, just trying to be friendly. Where’s the line of crazy drawn? What’s the crazy to friendly ratio and what’s “okay” to contact after a situation and what’s not? AND, who makes these rules?!?!?

I’m sure you guys are kind of like, well, that was a slutty thing for her to do. However, did she do anything different then a man would have? She put herself out there thinking that she may have missed a big connection and went for it. I’m proud of her for doing so. If we don’t take risks how do we know? Commendable move, “D.” If we’re trying to be friendly with you and you misconstrue it, finding yourself there going, “WOAH she wasn’t into me a few years ago, but she SO IS now,” and yet we’re not arguing when you say you don’t want a relationship, but are actually repulsed and irritated on the other end…SHE IS JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU. Deflate your egos and stop “worrying,” about new obsessive “fans,” who are sincerely trying to keep the friends lane wide open. It’s lame. Seriously.  What’s better is she ran into him while out in LA on a trip, they met up, and he made out with a friend of hers right in front of her. Did she freak out? No. Did she drink too much and disclose intimate details about him to his friends…yeah maybe…so an element of crazy still lurks there, but that’s another story for another time.

“Sexual Seduction”

This one in particular is both my favorite, and grosses me out. I’ve been really good, because I’ve been sitting on a few really good stories for weeks now, afraid that the same men who threaten me when they see I’m going to post this to my blog, would actually check up on it at the exact moment I upload “our” stories. Sadly, for this one in particular, I do not care. He’s sufficiently freaked me out for YEARS now and I’m pretty sure it’s time to release our lovely banter out into cyber space.  We’ll call him…Jonah.

Things that are not sexy…For starters, how about when after many years of not speaking, you feel some sort of delight in contact someone to talk dirty. We all know by now how I feel about “badgering” and this is no exception. He’s actually the original badger, believe it or not. Jonah and I go way back…to middle school, where his brother and I were in the same grade and he was a few years older. Luckily for my friends and I, Jonah taught us all we’d need to know about “pleasing” men by describing play by plays in great detail. At the time, we were young and dumb and soaked it all in, keeping his brother our good friend and having to see him every time we went over to hang out. After he graduated, we didn’t keep in touch. It wasn’t until years later that Facebook played a huge role in reconnecting us. I was still in Tallahassee at the time, and his name popped up on Facebook chat as I was sitting next to my boyfriend at the time. My boyfriend said, “Who’s that?” I said, “Oh, just some guy from high school.” How do you explain any further when he’s really not important? In any case, he wound up getting very sexually explicit with me, so I removed him from my friends and blocked him from my AIM.

Recently, he resurfaced and I thought…it’s been years, what’s the worst that could happen? I should really ban that phrase from my vocabulary, along with other phrases like “it is what it is,” and “prrrrr-etty good.” Jonah and I reconnect and he instantly pops up on my Facebook chat: “Wow, you turned out to be one sexy Jew!” To which I respond, “Oh hello there Mr. Linkman, so nice to hear from you. How are you?” We carry on a normal conversation for a while, but he proceeds to ask me some highly offensive, sexual questions. When I ask how his brother is, he scoots right over it, more interested in what landscaping techniques are, etc. Gross stuff, especially when you’ve not spoke in so long.  Somehow, he reversed blocked me on AIM so that I could not block him back, I’d love to tell you what his screen name was, but that’d be highly inappropriate. I’ll not give the story away because it’ll be a whollllllllllllllle blog next week and if I give the good parts away, why come back? Regardless, his sexual forwardness as many others have been before is not ok. Particularly when you’re just starting to talk to someone again who already has this whacked view of you.

So as I said, he reversed blocked, and so when I’d have statuses up like… “Getting ready for a date!” He’d reply like… “Ooh where am I meeting you,” or “wear something that accentuates your…” etc. I never responded and this is actually still continuing on a small level, despite the fact he literally said, “If this is making you uncomfortable or if you don’t want to talk to me anymore, just tell me.” SO I did…and where do you think that’s gotten me? If you’re being explicit, you should maybe take a hint when the person says she’s not only not interested but is not responsive to your unique advances.  If you’re a freak and she’s not, if you’re explicit and inappropriate causing her to feel like screaming every time you contact her and you’re wondering why you get no response? It’s as simple as this, SHE IS JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU!

There are all different kinds of people, and everyone has their individual quirks. I suppose when it’s in regards to a typically gender specific topic it just gets me going. There’s no real difference between women and men. They both want what they want: to find the best partner, to be successful, to be loved on whatever level they’re capable of giving and receiving. Men don’t believe me when I tell them I’m relatively drama free, that I abhor conflict and that I’m pretty laid back. Perhaps that’s just my perception, and not reality, as it’s easier for me to be subjective rather than objective but I know I’m definitely at fault most times too. No one is innocent, because relationships (friendships included) are (at least) two player games. But the next time you’re wondering why we don’t call, or why we don’t respond to what you say, etc…re-think what your actions may have been to get to that point, and realize…we’re just not that into you.

When the day finally came to move, I was totally relieved. As much as I love my family, sharing a bed with your mother at 25 is eh…rather disturbing and yikes-worthy all on its own. Throw that and a grumpy brother who works 72 hour works days and self-medicates so as to not burn down his workplace and we have a PAR-TAY! Also, you know my doggie (but don’t tell him that, he thinks he’s a human) couldn’t be there, as I’d mentioned before. WITH that said, I was happy to move. There were some other feelings associated with the move that were kind of keeping me in a fog. For some reason, I was focusing on the wrong aspects that day and began feeling like I had the onslaught of Multiple Personality Disorder.

Ever had something really traumatic or shocking happen to you, and it’s like you have different pieces of your psyche acting out how you feel in an all out “crazy competition?” Yes, I know that sounds nuts, but it’s really not supposed to! It’s like when you rationalize a situation. A small piece of you is like, “well, this happened because I didn’t fold the quilt right and then it really hurt its feelings and I…” Then, your rational side kicks in and is like, “listen psycho that could NOT have been the case, it’s because…” Somewhere in there, the “STRONG” piece of you emerges for a little fun, potentially saying, “listen girl, you don’t need that shit. You did everything to make that quilt happy and you deserve a quilt who will REALLY keep you warm.” For ten seconds you feel better, until your lame, overly sensitive, spineless side kicks in with a wimpy, “ I just wish, I could hold that quilt one more time…twirl it’s tattered corners in between my fingers and let it know…it keeps my heart warm.” Barf.

THIS is what I mean. I swear if you tell me this has never happened to anyone else, I’ll get help, I promise. But it happens in all situations! I had something happen at work TODAY that made my psyche freak out and split into the seven schizophrenics!

However, on the day I’m writing about, it was in regards to another topic that was keeping me (let’s call it) “blissfully unaware.” This is important. Before I finish moving, my mom offers to iron everything for me as my new roommate and I have nothing in the house to iron with. “Okay, thanks mom,” I say. “No problem honey, do you think you can hand me the starch? I’m not sure if we have any, but if we do it’s in the cabinet in the bathroom.” I’m not really paying attention, as my mind is somewhere between the “STRONG” psyche and wimpy one. Listlessly, I traipse over to the cabinet and glance quickly at three bottles. “There’s plenty of starch mom, “I reply and grab a bottle. The entire time she’s ironing, she keeps complaining. “I’m not sure why this isn’t working as well today! The starch might be bad?” “I don’t know mom, sorry.” As she finishes the last pant leg on my white pants, she turns to me and in that angry mom voice says,    “OH, ALLYSON!” “WHAT!?” I reply, snapping me out of my sappy mindset. “You know, I was wondering why the ‘starch’ was coming out ORANGE on the clothes! You didn’t give me starch, you handed me SCRUBBING BUBBLES!”

From there, we laughed for a good twenty minutes, both of us just about rolling on the floor. Had I of paid more attention to the bottles below (which all turned out to be Scrubbing Bubbles) and had my mom of even glanced slightly at the can, perhaps we could’ve avoided the mishap! However, you’ll be glad to know, nothing happen to my clothes and they are now soap scum and grime free!

As of yesterday, I am officially part of the “grown and sexy” club. Twenty five…where does the time go? I swear to God I was a college freshman last year, moving into Southgate Dorms and crying every night about how much I hated Tallahassee. All of a sudden, I wake up and I have a job, I’m getting my Masters, I take care of a living being (Mr. Fozzie Bear!) and…what’s that you say? What are other people doing?

For some reason, I had it in my head that certain things should be accomplished before I reached 25. Now it’s like, well, 30 for sure.  It’s almost synonymous with making a bucket list, except it would have to be called (on your way to creating your ACTUAL) bucket list, or something clearly much more clever than that. One of my pet peeves on my journey to grown and sexy “ville” was when people older than I would say, “it’s really not a big deal.”  I was not actually thinking the world would end, or it would rain blood or anything bizarre, but it’s still a big deal to me because…well, I’ve never been twenty five before. These other people I’m speaking of have all experienced it, but not I! This is the age that marketers have said is the time to start using anti-wrinkle cream, that our car insurance goes down because now we’re deemed a twinge more responsible than 24, the year more and more of our friends continue to marry off and produce little demon spawns. It’s unnerving. Truly! Yet, I’d never want to be one of them right now in a million years (no offense).  Let’s dissect this a bit…

I’ve now officially turned twenty five and do not feel a lick of difference. I’m still me, I’m not wrinkled and life is just starting to get good.  There’s some kind of weird stipulation (and I’m not sure whether or not any of you have felt this) about what is supposed to be accomplished by twenty five. The general checklist:

1. Elementary level schooling ending in a High School Diploma (Check!)
2. Undergraduate degree from a respectable…ehrm…a University (Check!)
3. Settled into a city where you’re going to start your budding career (eh…ok, moving on!)
4. Starting a career that is spawned by you freakishly falling into the job of your life (Ok, maybe the next one is for me?)
5. Going back to college for a Graduate degree in…anything (YES! Score one for ME!)
6. Married and/or in a committed relationship (Fail)
7. Babies…everyone wants babies… ( Absolutely not)

Of course, not everyone thinks that. This is more along the lines of what I considered to be MY “general” brainwashing, but regardless, it all played a factor in my pre-25 “freak-out.”  While I’m educated, and continuing my education through this pointless eh…I mean important and meaningful program I’m in, that’s the one off that list I can stake any claim in.

It’s depressing what some are able to do by the time they’re twenty five! I was watching a thing on Seth McFarland and do you know when he aired his first episode of Family Guy? It was picked up by FOX when he was twenty…FOUR. He’s made a multi-million dollar dream come true. I suppose this may seem whiny, right? “Well if you’re so passionate about XYZ, go be a Seth McFarland and do it! Stop flapping your gums and whining!”  I just don’t know how that entire situation played out! How do you walk into FOX and just say…hey, I wrote this…check it out? Oh you love it? Sweet! YOU PAY ME NOW AND MAKE ME A STAR.

As for the marriage, relationship, babies section, this is a no brainer. To be married right now would be a huge mistake, as I have no idea where my career will take me. You know, once it gets going in six months. It would up root another person, cause issues and possibly even a resentment that I wanted to move for my job, so now you’ll need to quit yours.

Relationship? I’d be lying if I told you that I wasn’t completely turned off to the idea of a relationship. Its “great” trying to forge two lives together for the sake of passion and enjoyment, but we come across a fundamental problem…people are full of shit. Really, legitimately, full of it. Every time you give an inch they take a mile. While they’re running that mile, they turn around and spit in your face, trip you and kick the dust about you as they just blow on by like nothing happened.  And this happens both ways! Women are in no way, shape, or form excluded from this. I just happen to be a woman, so it’s slightly more challenging for me to be sympathetic to the other side. But I DO know this…women are just as nuts as men. There. It’s out there, and we can deal with the big pink elephant in the room!

Am I saying happily ever after doesn’t exist? I’m sure it does. However, the pressure put on women our age to be settled in and happy with “the one,” is a little out of control. This road to “the one,” appears to be long and winding, full of sharp stones and shards of glass. Oh and did I mention shoes are not allowed? No, no shoes… you walk barefoot! You trust, you forgive, you wait…you walk. Men do it too, I know, but we’re just programmed differently guys (like it or not).  And by the way…right when you think you stumbled upon “the one,” what I just described above will happen and life will send you right back to the beginning again. Kind of like the game “Sorry,” except they never are and you don’t really get a cool prize in the end.

The issue HERE is that no one is perfect, yet everyone seeks perfection. The flawed want those who aren’t flawed. You see 300lb dudes walking around with t-shirts that say “NO FAT CHICKS.” For real? So no…time for me, for my job and when I find someone who is truly looking to be my companion, friend, and all the fun stuff too…we’ll talk. But no more bitch assnes. That’s right…I said it.  As far as babies go…well, anyone who knows me already knows my stance on this, so I’ll not waste time. Babies are not personalized accessories like specially bred tea cup dogs, or a Louie purse. I’m sick of seeing shots of newborns at the pool, on yachts, and casinos. Yikes.

It took me a few months to get used to the idea of the big 2-5 closing in on me for fear I’d not live up to my OWN expectations and those I’ve been programmed to fear. Yet, now that I’m there, I feel as though I’ve had the power all along to break the cycle. While the future freaks me out, I’m confident that I’ll enjoy the next twenty five years as much as those that have passed. I’m a twenty five year old broke, homeless (until Friday), dog loving, loan having, Master’s degree pursuing, hopeless hopeful, writer with a dream, fabulous…woman.

I’m the only one from headquarters. The rest of the people are training to be dispersed to several varying stores throughout Broward/Dade County. A blond lady around the age of 40 takes a seat to my left, looking fidgety and as if she’s been around the block once or twice. To my right, are a girl who will be working at the call center and gentleman who speaks NO English. Legitimately not one word, and the girl from the call center is helping him write and understand his forms, translating the important things he needs to know to work in the warehouse. Most of the people in there are from the warehouse and it’s evident that most have had a hard life, and/or are not playing with a deck.

“Wish this thing would get started already,” the blond lady says.

“I know, right? Like we don’t have better things to do?” I reply, trying to seem cool and tough.

She nods, indicating the agrees and makes a “PSSH” sound before throwing her head back in sarcastic laughter.

This is going to be a long day.

The lady who will be leading orientation is short and Hispanic, with long blond hair and dark highlights, tight pants, too much makeup and long fingernails. As she takes the floor, I figure this can go one of two ways: really good (informative and quick) or really bad (waste of time and aggravating). My money is on the latter…should’ve bet the farm.

“Hey everyone, I’m Shannon, and I’ll be leading orientation today. Can everyone take their top folder and move it to the bottom of the stack? Also, can someone tell me anything about the company?”

What followed was a barrage of idiotic questioning, supplemented by thoughtless idiotic answers. Some were irritated that the questions were as simple as, “What does this company sell? Can anyone tell me?” or “What are the company colors?” While others were rolling their eyes as I was, wondering if anyone really needed to take a minute to ask those aforementioned questions.

Lunch break! Sweet!

The blond lady follows me down to the cafeteria before uttering, “mind if I sit with you?”

“Sure,” I said.

The conversation went on to discuss her father’s profession as a strip club owner, and how she got tired of working there. She used to have a wealthy boyfriend but he left her and while she loves photography and would work in the field, there’s just not enough money. Also, she hoped they wouldn’t make her cover up her BACK length Jaguar tattoo (not the car, the animal).

When we get back, the woman in charge is ready to discuss the company benefits. As I’d be working part time, none of the benefits truly applied to me, so I began to doodle and let my mind wander.

“After three months of work with this company, you become illegible for your benefits.”

Wha-…did she just? No, she couldn’t have said illegible, I’m hearing things!

“If you are part time, you are not illegible for benefits.”

Twice? Okay, this is not a mistake. Can it really be, that someone this misguided is in a position to teach others? Ah, yikes.

I lean over to the blond lady and ask, “Did she just say…illegible instead of eligible?”

“Fuck yeah she did,” she said.

“That’s what I thought.”

In the process of the next two hours, this woman used that term several times, forcing me to wonder…am I not eligible for benefits, or do I not know how to read? Once I began working at headquarters, I told the story of what had happened and sadly enough, I was not the only one. It appears many others “illegibility,” was called into question.

YIKES.

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