I HAVE REDEEMED MYSELF! - Halloweekend

If you've been reading my blog for awhile, you might recall this post about when I freaked out on SexyFace as he drove me through Rock Creek Park...

What you don't know is that there's more to the story.

While he did take me back to my place it was not prior to him taking me back to his place for some hard-core making out.

So there we are - in this well appointed one bedroom apartment making out on the couch when....

The kamikazes started to avenge their quick demise into my digestive system and return... with a vengeance. I literally stopped kissing him, put one finger in front of my mouth and said, "where's your bathroom?" He pointed. I ran.

5 milliseconds later I'm puking in his toilet. For the next 2 hours our hard-core make out session turned into him sitting on the floor with me while I puked into the toilet every 30 minutes while bleeding on his bath mat, because somewhere in between making out and the bathroom I had cut my leg.

Oh. Yeah.

I killed my bar.
I not only could not return to my favorite alcoholic establishment for a YEAR. The sheer embarrassment from everything that happened literally paralyzed me whenever someone suggested we go to his bar.

The following summer when I finally returned to the bar, I went up to him praying that the faces would have blended together with all the other girls he's been with, and he wouldn't remember me.

Nope.

I order my drink, hand him the cash, and he turns around (here I am thinking, "HALLELUJAH He doesn't remember me!").

He stops. Cash still in hand, he slowly turns back to look at me, smirks, and while shaking his head says, "Lo-fucking-Ro. How have you been? How was Texas? What's it been... seriously like a year since I saw you last."

So not only did he remember who I was and where I was from. He remembered when he last saw me.

Every moment in that bar since then, I have felt a little embarrassed. If it hadn't have been so fun, and my friends didn't love it, I wouldn't go there. So I fought my shame and bit the bullet. I refused to get my drinks from him after that. I couldn't. I just felt blind sided with shame, but as the months went by, he'd stop me when I'd walk by his bar to make sure I was o.k. and if I needed anything or if anyone was bothering me.

Cut to this weekend.

Friday night in honor of the holiday weekend my friends and I dressed up and hit the Page, because Sign of the Whale can just be too overwhelming (or underwhelming) when you're not plastered.

Somewhere in between my free drinks, a horrible accident to my uncle which I found out about on my way out the door, and the lack of enthusiasm of the night in general because it was so cold, and people weren't really out I started to feel sad. Then my ex, Can-Can Boy texted me at midnight (what kind of guy with a fiance texts a girl he used to love at midnight on a weekend?) The constant rejection of the guys at the Page then hit me full force. On top of that my Bartender disappeared and everyone knows what that means (back alley - sexytime) and I just couldn't handle it anymore.

The waterworks exploded. I stood in the hallway with my phone texting until Hoss came by and let me sit in the dining room in a far corner to gain my composure. I never did. Every new text from him reaffirmed my fears that I will never have another man love me again. It reaffirmed my fear of being abandoned and replaced. And it just hit home the fact that since I've gained weight post college, my body is not where I want it to be and my lack-luster approach to exercise doesn't cut it.

New Text.
Cry.

New Text.
Sob.

New Text.
Cry.

New Text.
Sob.

I was that girl. The girl no one wants to be around at parties, because the pity party she throws herself is more epic than the one around her. I knew it was bad when not only did a bartender I did not know come over to make sure I was ok, but when the barback kicked out a few other groups of people sitting in the dining area, he looked at my tear soaked face and walked away - letting me stay (side note - Make Up for Ever's Aqua collection, didn't smudge or run at all, during this. literally stayed perfect around my eyes.)

Sam and Zoya managed to calm me down, and I went home with Sam to a world full of pizza and girl talk.

The next night I knew that if I started throwing a pity party it was going to be one long downhill spiral of regret and disallusionment. And I knew that if I started bawling at the bars for two nights in a row, my girls - probably would have been a little pissed off that I messed up their night..... again.

So when we went to Nightmare on M St. the next day - I knew I had to get my party on, and I had to get my party on HARD.



The night was a resounding success on all accounts, starting with (1) No Pity Party - (2) No Puking - (3) I set a goal for myself and achieved it.


It's been nearly 2 1/2 years since the let-me-puke-for-2-hours-when-we-should-be-making-out incident occurred, and I have always harbored these still horribly intense feelings of "OMYGODHE'SSOFRIGGIN'HOT" for SexyFace. Seriously, he's Adonis. If you follow my twitter you might recall a tweet from Thursday, where I mentioned something about just wanting to grab him and tell him how attractive I find him.

My girls Sam and Norma have constantly insisted that I need to just stomp up to him and say "HEY I'm Sexy! You're Sexy! Let's be Sexy together!" (or something like that - Norma would never say something like that - Sam might, but you get the drift).

But inside all this bravado and social butterfly nature, I'm a horribly shy individual. Doing that would just completely turn me into Pity Party Pat if he rejected me. So I didn't.

BUT... Here's where it get's good.

Enter Halloween. The one night of the year where the spirits (alcoholic ones) converge to make mischief happen...

After bouncing around his bar all night getting drinks from all the bartenders aside from him, he pointed it out.

"Why don't you ever ask me for a drink?"
"Because I dont like bothering you."
"Ask me."
"Can I have a rum and coke?"
"No, go away kid ya bother me!"

My face said it all, so...

We started talking... and

As it turns out... he's noticed me, every single time I've been in his bar since I first returned last July... He noticed which bartenders I like more than him because I always give them kisses on the cheek (of which he is actually jealous...) and because I bought my alcoholic beverages from them. And he noticed who I came with. How often I came there. And every outfit I'd worn to the bar since (seriously he started listing them from my hot blue halter to the recent rash of wearing ties as belts - his favorite is anytime I pull out my cognac leather jacket).

He finally made my rum and coke, and since I had a few drops (gallons) of liquid encouragement (and because he admitted he was jealous of Murph and Ali) I kissed him on the cheek after he handed it to me.

His face turned bright red.

It was at this point in time that I announced to Sam, "I am going to redeem myself tonight. I am going to make out with SexyFace and it's going to be epic." She of course smiled & nodded appropriately, but I believe some part of her didn't believe me, because after my recent rash of calling out DIBS and then never capitalizing on my desires - my goal to finish ratio is very low.

After awhile the bar hit its plateau, and I was grabbing a drink from Ali - when SexyFace stopped to talk briefly, before walking away to make an actual paying customer his drink. I called him back over, kissed him on the other cheek and smiled - He blushed, and I darted off into the crowd.

As the night wore on, the DJ announced last call so I found my friends by his bar taking a round of tequila, I had long since switched over to water, because my buzz was getting more saucy and less buzzy (and remember I did NOT want to be puking). I looked-on as they did the shot, and Sexyface called out, "You can't have any."
"Not that I wanted one, but why not?"
"It's not for you."

I crossed the floor to his corner and looked at him under my eyelashes with a sly smirk, while he shook his shaker thingy with all his might.

"Why not?"
He set out two shot glasses in front of me and smiled while pouring the liquid from that shaker thingy into the plastic cups.
"Because you're too classy for tequila. You, LoRo, are a top shelf vodka-kamikaze kind of girl."

He then handed me one of the cups and took one for himself before downing it and kissing me on the cheek.
"Say what, why don't you wait here, and we'll go talk for a few."

Match. Set. Point.

I sent my friends away (I think... I'm tipsy at this point in time, so everything after involving texting and anything really that was not SexyFace is kind of pushed out of my mind - However the next morning Sam did show me a series of text which began with if I die, SexyFace did it).

He pulled me back into the depths of the ober secret conference room, and we started to talk, which digressed into me. (1) NOT PUKING. (2) Redeeming myself, which then digressed into me actually sleeping in the conference room until 5 a.m, which is when he closed out all his tabs, counted tips, dealt with work drama-llama. He came back upstairs and awoke me with a kiss, a-la Sleeping Beauty. He slid onto the conference table with me and wrapped me in his arms, his big, pale, burly-man arms.

As he pulled away from a kiss, he eyed me, "What do you think of my beard? Does it bother you? Do you like it?"

I slid my hand across his face and looked at his beard and then up into his eyes...

"It looks great on you," (Oh-wow, honey you have no idea how good it looks on you).

We had a great chat. We had a great night.

Sometimes the luck of the night is all in the luck of the draw.

Between sobbing the night before in the Page and my year and a half long stint of constant embarrassment, I have officially redeemed myself, and fuck if I'm not proud!

When it rains men, you might want to take cover...

For the longest time, whenever there's karaoke to be had, I sing one song. This song.



Unless someone else has in the last 20 minutes, and then I sing Shania Twain, but that's not the point...

The point is that I have always heard the following two phrases, "when it rains it pours" & "when one door closes another one opens."

And yeah, when life is chunking lemons at you, it gets overwhelming. And when one part of your life comes to an end, you realize that there's another chapter ahead of you, but never have I realized how true these statements are when it comes to my dating life.

A few weeks ago, I got swept up in the whirlwind romance of Goal.

Oh, god. I was head over heels madly and truly, but after he invited me mistakenly to go camping with him instead of the guy he really wanted to ask.. and then never actually apologized for not responding/never texting me afterwards - I wiped my hands of the whole affair and resounded myself to the singularity to which I am accustomed.

Don't get me wrong... I like being single - I can flirt. I can kiss, and I can date whoever I want, but I was actually really kind of bummed. So here is when I was thinking, "WHY GOD - WHYYYYY!?"

But my life does not leave ample time for heartache. So I jumped back into the pool.

The following Saturday, I put on my big-girl-britches and made my way down to Dupont and Rumors with my girl Ro. To be honest, the last time we had gone with just the two of us, we met the Marines, so I was a little skeptical of going with just us, but I bucked up, stopped whining, and we started drinking.

We had been scouting out the bar for a while, standing, chatting with each other when this tall light-skinned FBM came by. He had just walked in with an enormous group of men who looked like they should be on the cover of GorgeousBuiltMen Weekly mainly because they were part of a rather well known sports team in the area. Since, I know my girl's love of FBMs, and because she winged for me the last time, I instigated a conversation with him, and before you know it, Ro and him are chit-chatting, while I'm pushing off the advances of his exceedingly drunk friend Bob.... but where there is a will, there's a way and Bob had a very attractive "babysitter" in a very silly hat, whom I had been eyeing for awhile, and he knew it. So he swooped in to save the day.

FunkyHatGuy and I hit it off, OMG, did we hit it off.

He was snarky. He was intelligent. He was a grade-A-quality-flirter. He was exactly what I needed to get my mind off of being obsessed with Goal. We played paper-rock-scissors to see who would buy each round, and between his snark and Bob's horribly drunken advances, ie I got ass-patted, hand-kissed, and real-slobbery-kissed, FunkyHatGuy decided to claim his territory and threw his funky hat on my head. Claimed!

I'm a traditional southern girl, and it is straight class procedure to allow the girl your digging to wear your hat. So as the good southern girl I am, I dealt with looking slightly ridiculous and accepted my fate. (Very, Very Happily. You should have seen this man's arms).

When it was time for FunkyHatGuy and I to part ways due to him having to attend Mass in the morning (OMG I can bring him home to mother!!! - joke), he asked for my phone number - reasonably after Goal only used mine because he thought I was a man - I told FunkyHatGuy it wasn't happening. He insisted that he would use it, so I put it in his phone and didn't think twice about it. Aside from Goal (and remember he thought I was one of his guy friends when he texted me), I can't remember the last time a guy used my phone number after meeting me at a bar.

So enter the next week.

Fresh back on the dating scene, I agreed to a 2nd date with a guy from OkC, we'll call him Lars (think from the movie - the Thing). Lars and I were two-peas-in-the-dorkiest-pod-on-the-face-of-the-planet, so we hit it off pretty well. And I like him - he's a good guy, and we had a nice low-key movie date.

After watching the movie, we stood outside and talked for a while until he asked me to see another movie with him on Friday. The movie I wasn't too killer about - so I told him I'd let him know, not that I didn't want to spend time with him, but that I didn't really want to see the movie.

Enter later that night.

(I promise all these micro stories have a point.)

Kryptonite and I had been talking back and forth via the texts for a while, demanding each other that it was the other's turn to play in our 50 games of Words with Friends. When he mentioned how he hadn't seen me in forever because he moved far away, I asked, "so when am I going to see you?" "I'm coming into town this weekend, howabout this Friday?"

Now in my head I think o.k. I can tell Lars that we need to move our date to Sunday because I have an old college buddy coming to town, but on the other hand, Lars and I didn't have set plans.

So I decide I'll eat myself some dinner and think about it later.

Enter the next day...

It's around 8 pm, and as standard - minding my own business eating a delectable dinner and catching up on TV shows I'd missed for the past week because I have a very hectic life, when I hear my phone ding.

I grab, check message - it's FunkyHatGuy - WHAAAT?! He actually texted me?

I honestly metaphorically shit a brick, because I wasn't expecting it at ALL. I'm so used to guys asking for phone numbers to toss in their "little black books" and never use.

AND (SIDENOTE) What is the point of having a "little black book," IF YOU NEVER USE IT!!!! I am all about utilizing the LBB, and I am ALL about hooking up. Seriously... Life is frickin' short - it makes no sense to wander about and be miserable, when there's a quick, fun, and awesome way to create endorphins in the chilly fall months. Endorphins = happy people.

If more people were running around making out with the people they wanted to make out with... we'd have a whole lot less stress. And...AND! We'd have a whole lot less assholes flicking me off because they don't like the way I put on my blinker 50-yards before I dive infront of them during rush hour. Seriously?!?! Howabout you use your stupid ass middle finger for something good!

Anyway... FunkyHatGuy and I have this great series of snarky texts back and forth and before I know it, he wants to know what I'm doing Friday and if he can take me out.

Like I said when it rains... it pours.

I haven't really decided who I'm taking up on their offer... All I know is Kryptonite would be traveling in from out of town, so I need to make up my mind quickly, because I'm talking this Friday...

While my instinct says Kryptonite... My friends all beg to differ and have all reminded me about the boucoups of times he has fucked me over doing x-y or z, and that Long-Distance is Wrong-Distance and that while I may think he's the most beautiful man to walk the earth - he's at best a 6 in a suit. (I think he's at least a 9).

SOOOO Readers...

I'm actually horribly conflicted, because then I have two other great guys to think about... FunkyHatGuy or Lars, and on the one hand I know what Lars is looking for - a relationship, and grown-up-me should be jumping in, with both feet into that basket of happiness, but if I was so willing to push him aside for Goal, then clearly I'm not fully invested in him, and I don't know if it's because I don't know him well enough yet, or whether I'm not 100% into him, but shouldn't I be more concerned?

And then FunkyHatGuy is this snarky-sexy individual who put himself out there when normally no one else does, and he's smart. He's local, and seriously, he texted when he said he would text! That's madness! So I just... I just don't know...

And to be real, these guys are just the tip of their icebergs. Seriously, guys are popping out from every fucking nook and cranny... Idk if God is chunking them at me to get my mind off Goal, or if he's trying to test me to see if I'm ready for a relationship, but I'm standing here getting PELTED with men.

Seriously you should see the bruises.

My grandpa, paw-paw, grammy, and mia all use to say, "honey when you get older you're gonna have to bat them away with sticks, they'll be lining up..." and I'm not sure if that's true or if that's just something you say to your granddaughter to build up her self-confidence, but right now, I really need to invest in a sturdier umbrella or a giant stick.

Going from Internet to IRL

Recently a friend of mine, Jo, asked me via the twitter, which dating sites her roommate should look into.

After giving her my opinions, she convinced him to join OkCupid, "OkC."

Now, having never experienced the magic that is online dating, Jo's roommate is having a little trouble going from Internet to In Real Life, "IRL."



So I'm going to offer up my advice on how to make the jump, but I know there's a lot of other dating bloggers out there who have also made the jump - so I know that Jo and her roomie would appreciate your advice as well!

We've come a long way from the first couple of internet dates in chatrooms, which started with the ever so creepy A/S/L. I see that and my skin literally starts to crawl. Internet dating is getting popular, but since it is a newish frontier (consider it the 21st century gold rush, but instead of gold there's dating up in 'dem dere hills!') people need to know how to actually do internet dating...

In my opinion, there are various steps to going from talking with someone on the interwebs and transitioning into that first meeting.

1. You don't want to appear too intense - suggesting you meet each other on the first couple of messages back and forth is a little intense. If you're a guy it could come off as pushy and agressive, which will push the potential away and if you're a girl it comes off as you doing the chasing.

After devouring more blogs than food in the last 72 hours trying to figure out if I should break OssumOctober and make the first-ish move, I've learned that guys like chasing (granted I knew this before hand, but the blogs Ive read confirmed). Let the guy ask about meeting IRL first. Guys - PICK UP ON HINTS. If you mention something about going to the Baltimore Aquarium and the girl says, "oh that sounds really cool, I've never been." <---- that's an opportunity to say, "Hey well would you want to go with me."

2. You don't want to appear like you're avoiding meeting - if a guy has offered a round of hot chocolates at the starbucks, a plate full of delicious at the eatery, or a couple of drinks at a bar, and you keep turning him down for this reason or the next (and it's not within the first few messages). You're being kind of a biatch. Granted yes, maybe you're new to the whole dating thing, but here's my thought - If you're on a dating website to date people/meet people, then you should be getting out there and doing it. Hovering around on the interwebs and just sitting there developing online relationships without meeting isn't healthy. They have chatroulette.com for that of interaction - if you're willing to get past all the penises.

3a. How long till you ask/meet - My guideline is 2-3 weeks depending on how intense the messages are. If the two of you are exchanging 500/1000 word messages every day, then you probably know more about each other than you would get to know someone at a bar. Those kind of messages exchanged everyday/every other day shows that you're both interested in getting to know each other better, especially if the messages are riddled with questions and genuine excitement in learning about the other person. If the messages are essentially running from about 50-200 words mark then more than likely I'd wait a little while, allowing you to get to know them a bit better before you jump into the real world together.

If you wait longer than say a month - you've essentially become pen pals, and it will become difficult to make that transition from messaging to talking in person. Take it from me and my own pen pal internet friend. If he wasn't so cute I'd cut it off, but at this point in time (see 5 months of emails back and forth) I can't make myself break on the investment... I seriously doubt I'll ever meet him, but I never know when I might need to know someone with a hobby farm out in the backwoods of Virginia. Probably never, but meh. Maybe one day he will get some horses, which I can bribe him to let me ride - I seriously would give someone my kidney to let me ride horses.

3b. What kind of meeting should you make - probably something light and easy. I'd go for drinks or coffee, that allows you to make the transition 1. cheap and 2. breezy. and 3. casual. These kinds of meetings allow you to get another drink if it's going well or let's you back out if they're two shades away from creeperville.

4. Where should you meet? - PUBLIC PUBLIC PUBLIC. I cannot reiterate this enough. If you are meeting someone for the first time via the interwebs, ALWAYS meet in public and NEVER give out your home address. NEVER. This isn't about not trusting a person - it's about covering your bases and protecting yourself. Always let a friend know the name of the person you're going to meet, where you're meeting, and their phone number for safety (especially if you're a girl). While internet dating is becoming mainstream and we've all seen that comercial where one in five relationships start online, there are still people out there that are psychopaths, and you NEED to make sure that you protect yourself. The craigslist killer seemed like a nice normal man too, until they found out he was murdering the women he was meeting.

I recently read an awesome post by DateMeD.C. - her blogging has stopped but you can catch her over on the twitter. The post essentially goes through all the thoughts of someone who believes that the person she's meeting could murder her, luckily they did not, but you shouldn't have to go through those emotions. If you play it safe and keep your wits about you. You wont put yourself into that awkward and stressful position.

5. BE ON TIME - This is just first date etiquette from the get go. You never know if the person you're meeting has carved out an hour to meet you or 20 minutes. If they've carved out a brief time to meet and you're 10 minutes late, that's a big deal. You wouldn't show up to a job interview late, don't show up to a first date late. However, there are some circumstances where it will happen, THANK YOU WMATA - I love how efficiently you run the metro. So if you are going to be late, and you know it in advance, text them to let them know.

6. Have fun and be yourself - Remember dating is supposed to be fun. Just because you met someone off then internet instead of in college, doesn't mean that you shouldn't treat them the same way. On that note a lot of times people will change their persona when they hit internet dating because they want to stick their best foot forward, but you really miss out on letting someone know who you are if you refuse to be yourself, because you're only offering up a 2-dimensional characature of you versus the 3-dimensional person that you are. For example, no one wants to watch TV with shallow uninteresting characters. So, why would they want to date one?

My Ultimate Crush

It was a night like any other night in DC. I didn't want to be out at all, to be honest. My life was in shambles - nothing was going my way. To top it off, the air was humid from a heavy rain storm, and fancy people were milling in the streets outside of clubs and bars - not the normal slumming it group that I like to hang out with, but you win some - you lose some, and I had a party to attend.

I was out for JG's Birthday with Sam and some other friends at the ____. Sam and I were trolling for sexy men around the bar and failing to find the ones we wanted, when out of the corner of my eye - there he is.

My heart stopped. My breath caught. My mouth gaping wide open - fly's zooming in for the kill.

There was Goal.

Goal went to my college. Goal is exactly my type, which makes him so dangerous. Goal is the one that one guy... that one guy that actually got away.

I grabbed Sam's arm quicker than a frog latching onto a fly, pulling her towards me at the speed of light - the guys immediately around us laughing at Sam's shocked demeanor.

"There he is! There he is! There he is!"
"Who?"
"That guy! That guy right there! Omigod! Omigod! The man I've had a crush on for 5 years! Seriously have been crushing on him FOR.EV.ER"
"eh, he's with that girl."

Wrong. He was not. The girl wanted nothing to do with his piercing eyes and beautiful smile, and she walked away. Dumb Biddie - doesn't know what she's missing.

Right then a big smiling lug of handsome walked up, aka Hoss, and we turned our attention to him, giving him a hug, showing our love of him and all things Hoss, but when I look up Goal has disappeared.

Mental thought -"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO."

I tap Sam on the shoulder and let her know, "I'm going to the bathroom" aka 'finding Goal.' She nods and makes to follow me..

As we slide through the crowded floor I feel someone grab me and shout over the pulsing music, "Hey, did you go to AU?"

When I turned around, I am standing face to face with a grinning Goal.
Then I almost died.
Then I almost fainted.
Then all I wanted to do was give him a hug and congratulate him on taking the one step I never could - talking to each other.

We started talking, and God, it flowed so easily. It was perfect, and he was trying to impress me - puffing up his peacock feathers, touching my arm, blocking other guys from talking to me with his body language, buying my friends drinks, laughing at my horrible jokes, and playing every card right in the let-me-show-you-that-I-can-take-care-of-you-game (Seriously some guy slammed into me, and by having Goal just glare at the guy - he came back and apologized).

The phrase "in heaven" doesn't even begin to describe how excited I was to talk to the one guy in college I never got the nerve up to talk to aside from the very frequent conversation of - "can I see your ID? Oh it's you, you're fine..." (in more ways than one).

Then my friends went to the dance floor, and I looked longingly after them - wanting to get my funk on.

"Wanna go dance with your friends?"
"Yeah I kind of do."
"Lead the way."

MELT. Readers - I melted into a puddle of happy goo. (Gross description - seriously how I was feeling).

As the beat guided our awkward dance movements, he pulled me close, "you're the one girl in college that I have always regretted not talking to."
"No way."
"Seriously, I used to go through the wrong dorm to see you. I had 20 bottles of coke in my fridge at any given time from visiting the vending machines next to the desk to see if you were working."



Yes. Destino on the Dance floor.

Cut to - 5 a.m.
Cut to - laughing our asses off over the fact we both have these massive crushes on each other and never capitalized.
Cut to - breakfast.
Cut to - unknown.

What happens now?

I honestly don't know, but after picking up a clearly very. lucky. penny. outside of the W 30-minutes before I saw him at _____, you can't even imagine how excited I am to see where this goes, but if it doesn't go anywhere I wont be heartbroken, because just wow - five years to find out my crush was everything I expected him to be and more - it's really all a girl could ask for.... And now, I'm thrilled to officially say I have no regrets in my life, because not talking to him has always been the one thing I regretted about college.

He's Gone....

While I sit at my desk, the sunlight teases the edge of my arm as I click through actor's voices at work, trying to find someone who's a perfect mix of Benjamin Netanyahu and William Shakespeare.

My phone buzzes. Nope. Not words with friends, I have a text, from MrStateDepartment. (You didn't even know this guy existed did you? - For the record... he does, but according the government he doesn't. It's bizarre aka he probably works at McDonalds)

"Wanna meet up for drinks?"
"No I have plans tonight with a homie, maybe tomorrow?"
"I leave tomorrow."
"What?"
"Yeah, I leave tomorrow, and I wanted to see you before I left."

As the floor beneath my desk peeled back, I watched my heart tumble from my chest, pitching down into the solemn depths below.

I knew it had been coming. I knew that I was going to get this text, but so soon. So quickly. He had just passed the greek language test 5 days ago.

Earlier that morning I had watched the most emotional movie I've ever worked on, listening to the sniffles of men holding back their tears and the rustling of kleenex as the women dried their eyes in the audience. But I had sat there like a stone. Enjoying criticizing the bad audio, so that in the next cut - it would be perfect. That's what you get when your mentor is an Audio guy, you're ober critical of the smallest hiccups.

But nary a tear.

As I tried to focus on my work after the texts, I actually couldn't breathe.

The man I had been using as a crutch; The man who gave me more dating advice in a 7-month time than I had experienced in my entire lifetime; The man I had been telling all my hopes and dreams to in attempts to ward off emotional vulnerability with the men I had actually been dating had less than 24 hours in the area, and I couldn't see the sun through my tears.

I rushed to the office bathroom as quickly as I could, because I have a rep to protect (I show no emotion) at my office, and I couldn't bear to let something else come crumbling around my ears.

I stood in the bathroom, leaning against the wall. Staring at the mirror, forcing myself to pull it together.

"Who ARE you right now? What are you DOING? It's not worth it. These tears aren't going to make the moon land in your hand."

From the first 'whatever' I knew he was leaving. There was no strings, no attachments. It was supposed to be easy. It was supposed to be fun.

And it was. Every laugh. Every joke. Every movie reference over my head. It was so good.

My longest relationship with a boyfriend was 9 months. To put this into perspective. My 'whatever it was' with this guy was 7 months long. To me. That's an eternity. I can hear his voice. I can see his eyes, his teeth, his fingers, every detail is etched in my mind at that moment. The moment in the bathroom.

I've always believed that the end of a relationship/friendship is like having someone you love die. Except you're constantly reminded about them when they sign onto skype or facebook. And when those relationships end, especially when one party moves across the country due to a work commitment it's doubly hard, because it's not like you both decided, OK this is ending.

It had to end. Knowing about it ending makes it that much harder, not easier. Slowly watching days peel back on a calendar pushing closer and closer to Departure Day doesn't make that day any easier.

And because 7 months to me is an eternity. In my messed up little world, weeks are like years. In a week or two I'll forget the crinkle of his eyes. The way he stares at a television as soon as it's turned on like a puppy watching you toss a ball. I'll forget the sounds he makes, and the way he walks.



Photo by Matt Weber

But the impression made will still be the same. Though the 'whatever it was' is severed by 3000 miles and separate dreams and goals.

Do I regret the times, the tears, the laughter?

No.

Do I want to still have what we had?

No. It's time to move on. It's time to find someone with whom I can start something - real.

Did I learn something about myself?

Yes. Apparently I have emotions other than judgement and happiness. How Crazy!

And to tell you the truth, that's my favorite part about dating. I love learning about myself through other people, through friendships and relationships and family, through different situations, through trials and triumphs. I love every imprint from every person I've ever met, because to be honest, without those imprints, I wouldn't be who I am today.

And while who I am today, isn't perfect, nor will it ever be. I like who I am today, but tomorrow, my friends, is a new discovery waiting for me to stumble upon it.

Me-Like-You Basics

I've never really been very good at the Me-like-You basics, in fact I pretty much suck at them, personally I think if I bat my eyelashes at you and then give you my ACTUAL phone number you should understand that Me-like-You.

Pretty much if I invite you into my apartment with just the two of us, it means, Me-like-You. If I text to ask you how your trip was, or if I invite you on my weekend plans to re-meet my friends, or if I tell you that 10 pm is a totally kosher time to come over and watch the Saints game. I'm not inviting you because I feel sorry for you...

I'm inviting you over, because Me-like-You.

I really don't think I should have to look into your (insert eye color here) eyes and say all high pitchedly that oh, I really like spending time with you...

Is there this large collective of women inviting guys to places to hang out one-on-one, because they feel sorry for them? If there is, you really need to stop, because it's getting around to the guys I'd like to date, and making me trying to express my emotions, very difficult.

Granted yes, I could just walk up to guys I'm dating and say, yo, I friggin' like you, but then I'll scare them away, so then I have to do the stupid game of I like you but not too much because I don't want to scare you away bullshit.

If people were more upfront we wouldn't have all these bizarrely difficult situations where I stop texting you because I dont realize that "yo" texts mean you like me. Or how my bizarre texts about bunnies and feather earrings mean I totally dig you.

BUT NO. Someone. Somewhere. Decided that in order to establish the true bond of togetherness I have to lie about my feelings and either 1. Be a Bitch, 2. Ignore You, or 3. Wait like a simpering Rapunzel, praying someone will rescue me.

Well you know what? I'm no freakin' Rapunzel (unless we're talking Tangled).

Here are the cold. hard. facts.

1. If I embrace you with a kiss on the cheek - I like you.
2. If I do that whole running, jumping hug thing - I like you.
3. If I text you without any cause - I like you.
4. If you find yourself wondering how my number mysteriously appeared in your phone or hand - I like you.
5. If I eye fuck you - I like you.
6. If you find yourself in possession of my parking pass (and you're not B or S or Norma or Blair) - I like you (I like them too but 3 are girls and the other is like my brother, and I don't swing either one of those ways).
7. If I drive 30-minutes away from my apartment between the hours of 9pm-2am, either you're dying or - I like you.
8. If I run through my apartment hallways at midnight screaming I want to have your babies... it's safe to say (one) you need to stop giving me alcohol and (two) I like you.
9. If I actually kiss you, like actual heat of the moment lip-lock-kiss, please determine first if I'm sober, then if I have a nervous look on my face. If I am (A) Sober and (B) don't have a nervous look on my face but instead one of shock or bliss - I like you.
10. If I answer your texts/phone calls every night for a week or two weeks or three weeks, consistently, I like you.

Now I'm not saying I like you means I'm absolutely madly in love with you. It means that I want to get to know you better, explore a new burgeoning friendship, and potentially cuddle for extended periods of time on the couch... or other places.

FOR EXAMPLE:
A month or so ago, I thought I had found the perfect replacement for my peacing out FWB. NotBen seemed perfect for such a replacement. He was fun, cute, blah blah blah. And I wasn't looking to hitch up with anyone on a permanent - LOVE ME basis.

Let's get this out of the way. Me-like-Not Ben, but I did not want to get a proposal from the guy. (Commitment problems)

But Not Ben, who assumes that every straight girl in the world wants him to be her boyfriend/fiance/husband, freaked out, sent me a text, telling me about a future break up email (which never arrived), then horribly unintelligently left my ($90) parking pass on my windshield (I'm not rich, but I'm not poor either, and I need that pass)... outside my car... at midnight:30.... in a parking lot... where I may or may not have experienced being chased down by crazy people a little under a year ago. (Saying it's the safest place on earth would be like saying Disney world is the saddest place on earth - It's not Anacostia, but it's No Navy Observatory Circle in NW, if you catch my drift).

So while Me-like-you, means I like you, it doesn't mean me want to marry you. It's a stepping stone. It's the basics.

And I just really wish that people would be more upfront about their Me-Like-You basics, because I'm getting VERY CONFUSED over here. Don't show me the Me-Like-You signs if you don't like me.

And pushing me aside, taking me out of the equation. People need to stop showing the Me-Like-You signs when you don't actually like them. It's just messing up dating for the rest of us! Because then people expect everyone to plays the games you play. Then my dating life is in an interminable run to catch up trying the figure out all the signs, and GOD there are so many signs.........



I don't know if you all know this or not, but I don't like running, so this really doesn't work for me.


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Unavailable? I'm Done!

You have a girlfriend? I love you.
You have a fiance? I want you.
You're too busy to date? Shit, let's do it.
You're leaving in a month? Why are we not dating!?
You don't live in DC? How fast can you be on skype?
You don't want to settle down? Well, shit I do. You'll change! Let's get married. No?

I have a problem, scratch that. Problems can be fixed. I have an ISSUE.

I like, no. I love, no. I'm absolutely head over heels for unavailable men.

The chase. The unending, never going to win chase is what I live for every moment. For me, the chase is better than the success. It's this continuous high, this rush of adrenaline wondering whether or not he actually likes me or whether he's going to respond. Some people choose to do coke, I do unavailable men. Neither one is really good for you, but eh. Whatchya gonna do.



But there's the rub...

As I'm chasing after everyone NOT worth having, the quality men that are chasing me are getting kicked to the curb like sad puppies.

Hence, I am a horrible human being.

But here's the thing... it's not that I don't appreciate the quality men who are fighting their way into my affections. I see them. I recognize quality when I see it, but they don't want to participate in my favorite part of the courting ritual... competitive flirting. They want romance. They want to dote me with flowers and chocolates and romantic comedies, while I -reeeeally - want to be doted on with witty one liners that make me blush as I rush to come back with a retort.

Hence why I'm still running around like a single chicken with my head cut off.

But readers. I am making a pledge.

And some of you should probably make this pledge with me, but I'm not going to force anyone.

For the month of OssumOctober, I - LoRo will go on no dates with, hang out with, or text, or call, or message, or tweet, or email, or snail mail any man who does not initiate the contact first. If I have to chase them, then they're more than likely 100% unavailable, emotionally or otherwise.

I just felt a little piece of my soul die while making that pledge, but I must stay strong.

Because it is a well established FACT that when I chase after a man one of four things happen.
1. FWB, not saying it's bad, just not what I want.
2. Date for a few months then they disappear into the ether or Singapore.
3. They either just got out of being engaged or married and are emotionally unavailable, and they're just looking for a rebound (and me thinking I can change them latch on like those little fish that clean the side of aquariums).
4. They move to a different state within a month.

And since I want NONE of that for the time being, I'm going to stop doing what I do best and instead wait, which is not going to be pretty. To be perfectly honest OssumOctober is going to be very, very brutal.

I'm going to go through serious withdrawals, severe anxiety, and have to face my fears of loneliness and abandonment head-on.

It's about my wavering standards. It's about finding and dating quality. And it's about trying something out of my comfort zone, because what I've been doing for the last few years clearly is not working.

So raise a glass (because I'm going to need a shit ton of drinks to get through this) and salut to OssumOctober.


Also, found this interesting post regarding chasing men while looking for pictures to accompany this blog post, check it out!