Far From Fighting Fair (Or At All)

I told Buzz recently about an epic fight I had with an ex many years ago because we went to the restaurant where it all went down. I actually don’t remember many of the details, just that this guy BLEW up in this very public venue because I questioned his use of a word that wasn’t really a word. I think the story is hilarious because it’s just so ridiculous. Buzz couldn’t wrap his head around it, nor should he be able to, it just is so nonsensical!

I am pretty even-keeled, but have some pretty good fight stories, most of which, I think in hindsight are funny because it’s a flashing sign that these men were totally wrong for me. Buzz has had some pretty great (read: ridiculous) fights with wrong-for-him-if-I-do-say-so-myself girlfriends too.

He’s also pretty calm, so when we added our personalities + being a little crazy for each other + our open communication, we started wondering WHAT it was that we WERE going to fight about, first or ever. I can’t imagine getting that mad at him or him getting that mad at me…have I mentioned it’s going amazingly well so far?

I know there are issues that can polarize any couple and that because your partner knows you best, he or she also knows best how to push your buttons, so while it may seem morbid to try to guess what we’ll fight over, I think it’s just realistic and healthy.

I relayed the convo to my celebrating-his-20th-anniversary-this-year boss the next day when he asked how things were going and he thought it was hilarious that I didn’t know what couples fought about. And he offered to make a list. Oh, cranky married people.

Time will tell what Buzz and I will get feisty about first, but I’m pretty sure the make up sex will be fantastic!

What is the most ridiculous fight you’ve had with a significant other? When was the first fight you had with your current partner and what was it about?

What’s the Buzz?

My good friend asked me if I wanted to join her for a 5K last weekend, to which I had to reply with “well, I’d like to, but I’m going out of town with a guy. There’s a guy. I feel weird I haven’t told you about him yet.”

I’d seen her a few times since meeting Buzz and this is the same friend who had the CTJ with me about Lucky, so it’s definitely in our realm of girlfriend chatter, but each time we were in big groups and I don’t know how to bring up good things like this. She, again no holds barred, told me I SHOULD feel weird. And that’s why we’re friends.

I prefer self-deprecation and dating stories that are so bad they’re good, but this one is just good. I was walking the line of it being so awesome I wanted to tell everyone and their mom about it and it being so awesome I wanted to keep it all to myself. So, yeah, either way it’s awesome.

So this is my way of also awkwardly telling you something that is only getting more awkward based on the fact that I’ve been holding out for so long.

How long? Seven weeks, not that I’m counting like a 16-year-old girl.

The deets? He’s a very age-appropriate 30. We met on Match, but depending on our level of intoxication, you may get another story if you ask. We did the standard progression of dates and on our third, I found out he’s a good cook and a great kisser. He’s smart and funny and sweet and will admit to nerding it out at times. He’s tall and a cuddler, which works well because he’s perfect to cuddle into. Oh, and last week he made it Facebook official, which worked out FAR better for him than the last guy who tried that one.

Why Buzz? Fortunately we really enjoy each other’s company, but UNfortunately, we have sometimes-opposite schedules, so so far, our relationship has been fueled by Starbucks, 5-Hour Energy and Red Bull. I’m buzzing 🙂

Friends and Phones

This is one of those, oh gosh, 22-year-old MJ was so silly stories.  So, when I was 22, I met a guy.  On our first date he was actually kind of wonderful, but early on I discovered he had quite an affinity for his Blackberry.  He had kind of a 24/7 job, so whatever, but then there was the fact that sometimes I would call or text and get nothing.  Um, I’ve spent time with you  so I KNOW you are attached at the hip to that thing.  Anyway, I still dated him, he was shady, it ended.

I think most people in my generation are the same way.  90% of the time, I have my phone with me and I will respond.  Sometimes I turn it off, sometimes I leave it behind, sometimes I forget it’s on silent and in my purse until I try to look for it a few hours later, but VERY often, I have it. 

Not only do I have my phone, but it’s my email times two, it pings me if someone sends me a Facebook message (I don’t have the app downloaded because I don’t want a notification every time someone “likes” something or whatnot, but I still do log in and check it often) or tweets me and I recently downloaded Yahoo! Messenger.  Need to get a hold of me?  You’ve got me!

So my question is, in this technologically connected world, WHEN can you get mad/upset/concerned about an unanswered message?

If you send someone a Facebook message and then you see they’re doing other stuff on FB and still haven’t responded to you?

If you send a text (with a question..texts without don’t require responses, duh) and don’t hear back within 15 minutes?  At the end of the work day?  Within a few hours if it’s the weekend?

If you call (and leave a message) and don’t hear back?

I’ve found my thresholds when it comes to potentials who are slacking on communication (particularly when it’s the beginning of something and he SHOULD be excited and SHOULD be on his best behavior), but why do I let these questions linger in regards to friends?

Everyone is different, but once you figure out a person’s average time, you can figure out where you are in the pecking order based on how quickly you get a response.

Specifically, my “best friend.”  This is the relationship I have finally given up on and said I made peace with, but it still sucks.  He thinks he’s busy and is a little spacey, so he was usually a few-hours responder, then it turned into a day or so.  Last week?  I sent him a message on Monday giving him my schedule for the week so that we could try to meet up for a happy hour we always talk about.  A week later and nothing.

And yeah, similarly to my gem of an ex, he is constantly on his phone if we hang out.  I’m no angel when it comes to this either, but seriously, what is society coming to?  We are so rude!  And what did people do during awkward silences when no one had cell phones?  Anyway, he has an iPhone and it’s love. 

Also, answer me this…why do people who have iPhones feel the need to say iPhone all the time?  It’s like, “Oh, I lost my iPhone, but then I found my iPhone.”  Or “Oh man, I jumped in the pool and totally forgot my iPhone was in my pocket and now my iPhone is wrecked and I have to go get a new iPhone.”  I’m not all about, “Hit me up on my Droid 2.” Or “So, I was texting him on my Droid 2.” 

I love the saying that goes something like, don’t make someone your priority if you are just their option, and again, I do okay with it in romantic relationships, but it’s different to forgive a friend, forget it happened, hang out, have fun, get ignored again, lather, rinse, repeat.

Okay, it’s not. It’s the same thing and it sucks.

And I Dated Him WHY?!

No Name is back (ish).  He reappears every now and then and tries to make plans and sometimes I blow him off and sometimes I meet up with him.  Last week I met up with him, and here’s why – and by here’s why, I mean, he asked why I hang out with him and I told him:
 
  1. Because I want to find out why he keeps coming back randomly and wanting to hang out with me.
  2. Because it gets me out of the house.
  3. Because it will give me a good story for my blog.
  4. Because maybe when he goes to the bathroom, a cute guy will come hit on me.
  5. Because now I have something to tell my dad when he asks me who I dated this week.
  6. Because when I have an answer to that question, my parents get a glimmer of hope that their younger daughter isn’t going to die alone, and by alone, I mean surrounded by cats.
  7. Because I like sushi.
  8. Because it gives me legit plans so I don’t feel bad turning other men I don’t want to hang out with down.
 And the unspoken:
 
  1. Because he pays for the sushi.
  2. Because I can be abrasive and say what I think (mostly) and talk about my love life, but still flirt with him and he sticks around for all of that.
  3. Because I wanted to see if he’s grown a pair and/or if he’s learned how to kiss in a way other than that which can only be described as “my aunt smells like mothballs but I have to kiss her anyway.”

He never told me why he randomly wants to hang out.  The obvious answer would be because he gets a little something-something, but as per unspoken #3, he doesn’t.  It got me out of the house, but didn’t keep me away too long.  I’m obviously currently writing about it.  I didn’t get hit on while he wasn’t at the table.  No name was in real estate as was my dad, so it’s love already.  My parents did glimmer a bit.  The sushi was delish.  And I probably would have preferred the other guy who asked, but you never know which rando is going to ask you out for which day.

No Name did pay for the sushi, he did stick around during the MJ show and no he didn’t grow a pair and I’m assuming he hasn’t improved his technique.
 
Now, three has always been my favorite number, so let’s focus on that one – the first #3 that is.  He didn’t question it, so I’m not sure if he thinks I was joking, but I’ve noticed a trend in single lady bloggers lately – we are awesome and are not afraid to embrace a bad date for the sake of sharing it all over the internet. 
 
It wasn’t bad, wasn’t good, probably won’t do it again anytime soon.  And while nothing really blog worthy happened on that sushi date, stay tuned for other blog worthy tales.   
 
As a mini-update, this weekend, I went out with Bachelors #6, 7 and 8.  So, yeah, thanks to Match I’m back at it.
 

F.M.H.

Somewhere out there, some poor man is not getting his oh-my-god-my-girlfriend-wore-heels-to-bed-and-we-had-the-sex-I-am-going-to-fantasize-about-at-least-until-the-next-time-she-does-something-amazingly-hot sex.  Because he is hiding from me.

My awesome second October bride bought and sent all of her bridesmaids shoes for the wedding.  She wanted us to be matchy-matchy mostly for the ceremony and pictures.  

I was excited when the sexy 4.5″ heels arrived at my door, the perfect pick-me-up for a Monday!  Although beyond wearing them around the house, I guess I kind of have to wait FIVE months to wear them…why do people have such long engagements?!

In an email chain that looped in a few of the other bridesmaids, I thanked the bride for the fuck-me heels and let her know that any single groomsmen didn’t stand a chance.

Another bridesmaid friend seconded that, but I’m not sure she really meant it.  Her groomsman boyfriend actually ASKED her to wear them to bed and she said she just glared at him.

So, here’s my question…why does SHE get a boyfriend if she’s not even going to play with him?

Okay. I’m feeling bitterly single these days.  I see plenty of fat, ugly women with horrible personalities* in seemingly loving relationships and can’t help but wonder what is wrong with me. 

Recently I caught SATC while on the treadmill and it was an episode around the beginning of Charlotte and Trey’s relationship.  The day after, while feeling down, I realized I needed to channel my inner Charlotte. 

She wants love, someone special and ultimately to get married, but note that sandwiched in there was “someone special.”  And yeah, she FUBARed it the first time around, but I dig her dating style.  She’s demure, but didn’t put up with shit just for the sake of having someone adore her. 

There’s nothing wrong with me aside from the fact that I know what I deserve and I’m going for, er, waiting for it.

*I say this because “you think I’m fat and ugly with a horrible personality” is a thing with this group of wedding ladies.  I can admit that I can be judgemental, but mostly my thoughts when I see happy couples are not that specific. They are more along the lines of, “Really?  Her?” Kinda like when, in a moment of weakness, I FBed TGISWOTSD and saw him with a particularly plain looking gal. Whatever tickles your pickle, dude.

Say What You Need to Say?

You know that classic question of if you knew your friend’s boyfriend was cheating would you tell her?  Or, if you had serious concerns about a person your friend was going to marry, would you speak up?

I experienced the latter and didn’t.  I left that to her cousin who tried to break up the wedding the night before.  They got married young – she was just 21 – after a tumultuous relationship and a super-fast reconciliation, engagement and wedding.

If I could have seen what the future held for my friend, I might have helped.  Instead I (along with the cousin) stood up as bridesmaids the next day and it went off without a hitch.

This friend is three years younger than me and I’ve known her since she was 10.  She’s the closest thing I have to a little sister and I cherish her.

Because of that, for a while, I tolerated this husband – his brash-in-your-face-know-it-all-holier-than-thou-borderline-misogynistic attitude – as did her family, but all of us with whispered concerns over his controlling, and potentially abusive, behavior. 

Then as he and I spent more time together – it’s been two-and-a-half years and now they have a baby – it became a mutual distaste.  I’m not too sure what’s not to like about me, I mean I’m pretty awesome, but his personality grates me and if mine does him, that’s fine.

But the other day, their combined Facebook account said something to the effect that he was excited their son was coming into his work, and yeah his wife was going to be there too, but “eh” and went on to say that she needed to bring him dinner and not just Kraft mac and cheese crap, that she better start warming up the oven.

I stewed for a day, then three years of frustration with this kid came out.  I simply responded with “Do you wonder why people think you’re an asshole?” Because he is and they do.

Within a few hours, I was not only defriended, I was blocked.  I heard from her a day later and she said she had something she wanted to talk to me about. 

She was upset because she thought it was harsh.  I let her know having a husband who talks to you or about you in that way isn’t healthy or normal. 

She told me it was a joke and anytime he says anything like that it’s a joke and I just don’t know him very well.  That’s who he is every time I’m around so either that’s who he actually is or I will never know because I don’t care to dig deeper.

She said she also took it as a knock at her because it was a knock at her partner.  I’ve never been in that serious of a relationship that I would know what that feels like, but I can see where that might be true. I assured her it was just because I wanted to call it to his attention but it’s not a reflection on her. 

She expressed that she wished I had talked to her privately instead of now having to deal with the outcomes.  I wanted to call him out, stand up for her, and I knew if I said something to her, she’d brush it off and not say anything to him and he’d keep talking to and about my friend that way.  She deserves better.

I didn’t want to cause any problems for her.  I figured it couldn’t strain my relationship with him any further, but now thinking back on it, it’s very rarely I see her without him around, and I definitely don’t want to lose her.  She’s not allowed very many friends (yeah, I know) and I’m sad to think I took one of the few he tolerated away.  

Perhaps that makes me a hypocrite, being a jerk to him in a public forum for being a jerk to her in a public forum.

So, with all that said…thoughts? Have you been there?  Was I that far off?  What would you have done?

I’m Damaged

But, not as damaged as I assumed last night.

Last night, I was waiting for a man I had nicknamed Mush.  Seriously.  There was a whole post about it (not the waiting part, the nickname part, the why he deserved a nickname part), it was going up today at 5am. 

[Spoiler alert…it’s in the trash.]

I wrote it on Monday and kept postponing the post date.

Just wait until after your next date.

But, things are going so well, they’re going to be the same after the next date.

Just one more.  For good measure.

Okay, fine.

The next date happened last night.  Start to finish, two hours.  I had a feeling all day.  It grew.  It hit its crescendo at 6:30. 

He’s not going to come.  He’s going to bail.  Things have been going great, but ALL MEN walk away.  ALL MEN let me down. 

He’s not like all men.  We’re a great match.  He’s intrigued and all the signs are there.

I couldn’t talk myself down.  I made plans to make back up plans.  To call my best friend and beg him to come eat the dinner I made for Non-Mush with me because Non-Mush stood me up. 

That’s when I realized I was damaged.

Non-Mush knocked on the door slightly after the pre-determined time.  How cute.  Late is our thing.  Both mine and his. 

There was a hug and kiss.  But he didn’t want to be there.  

We made conversation as I finished the last of the dinner.  The dinner I planned out, bought groceries for, prepped, donned an apron to cook to show him how adorable I am.  I cleaned the house, I changed my sheets, I got a compromise of a movie.   

All of this with a feeling in the pit of my stomach.

After dinner, I asked him to set up the movie.  He turned on the TV, but made no move to start the movie. 

I kissed his cheek and cuddled in.  That’s fine, we’ll watch a little TV. 

“So…conversation…hard to have…”

I uncuddled.  I knew.

“I don’t have butterflies.”

What are you?  A 15-year-old girl?

“I want to have them.  You’re the most awesome girl I’ve met in like five years.”

[Insert story of the last girl he felt something for, back in 2006 and how he’s pretty sure the fact that he’s not found it since means that he’s pretty damaged too.]

Yeah?  Well, shove that up your ass and join the club of men who think I’m awesome.  The men who also think that knowing they see how awesome I am HELPS in any sense when they’re breaking up with me.

He had come over to tell me that – and in the process of telling me that, revealed that he HAD considered bailing, but thought I deserved a face-to-face conversation about why I’m amazing, but not amazing enough.

If I had anything to tell him last night it was going to be to stick with me.  That my M.O. is that I’m awesome when I meet a guy, usually because I don’t give a rat’s ass, but when I start to like him, I get scared and nervous and box up my awesome and that he should just stick with me through that because when it’s safe again, it all comes back.

I didn’t get the chance to say that. 

Well, I did, but not in the way I wanted and in the moment, it probably just sounded lame at best, desperate at worst. 

“I suppose I should thank you for not pushing the sex thing.  This would be a lot more difficult if that were a factor.”

“Well, I respect women.  I never want to pressure that or push things.  I really am a Southern gentleman.”

Yeah, again.  Not making this easier.

We talked about rushing things v. pacing things.  We’ve apparently both been known to rush.  It’s apparently not worked for either of us. 

“It doesn’t work until it does,” I told him. 

And with that, suddenly I felt like the wise, mature and cool one.  The awesome I lost when I started to like this guy came back and I was giving relationship advice to the man seven years older than me whom I had spent the last two weeks offering my heart to until he gave it back to me last night with a, “nah, no thanks.”

Suddenly, I was the one consoling him.  I had kept my tears to myself, but he kept apologizing, telling me he felt bad.  He actually pouted his lip out. 

Hey, remember when I telepathically told you it doesn’t help me to know you think I’m awesome?  It also doesn’t help me to know you feel bad.  I WANT you to feel bad.  You DESERVE to feel bad.

He knew my silence was screaming, “get the HELL out of my house.”

There was a hug.  I allowed myself to tear up a bit as he held me, rubbed my back a bit. 

We pulled away and he stepped out the door.

“I’ll wait for about three weeks for you to realize what a fucking idiot you are, but that’s it.”

“I really want to keep hanging out with you, let’s go hiking, let’s work out together.  You never know what might happen.”

Yeah, I do know.  You just told me you want nothing to do with me in the way that I want so much to do with you, so I know that NOTHING will happen except maybe you’ll feel better about the whole “being a damaged asshole” thing.

So, there you have it.  Instead of the mushy Mush story, the tear-stained Non-Mush story.  The story of how I thought I was damaged, realized I was just intuitive and probably became more damaged in the process. 

DO all men leave?  WILL all men let me down?  Where’s the man who will hold me tighter when I feel safe enough to tell him that those are my fears?

I suppose hope it’s true what they I say…it doesn’t work until it does.

Insanity

No, this isn’t about how I took on the P90X wannabe called Insanity.  I’m not insane, afterall.  Or maybe I am…

The popular definition of insanity is doing the same thing repeatedly and expecting different results. 

I’ve been thinking about the things I make a habit out of doing.  The bad things that is.

Every week my to-do list includes “clean out car.”  And I do and then every week the tupperware containers, cardigans, papers and water bottles pile up and I put it back on the list.

I procrastinate emptying the dishwasher.  It’s probably the easiest household chore and in fact, along with the trash and the kitty litter box, was one of the only chores I was asked to do as a child….we might be on to something here.  I hate it for some reason, but we all know that when you don’t do it, the new dirty dishes pile up, making it an even more daunting task.  When I don’t do it, suddenly it’s easier to let the pots and pans pile up too.  “Empty dishwasher/sink” is also constantly on my to-do list.

“Clean my desk” should be on the list because it’s kind of embarrassing, but I don’t even try.  The organized mess works for me. 

And then of course there’s the endless dates.  I don’t always expect this to go differently.  After a while I get beat down and imagine they’re all jerks or have no personality or balls – it’s a fine line I need my man to walk apparently – and I give up for a while.

Speaking of (part A)…I’m reading JWOWW’s relationship advice book.  There I said it.  It’s entertaining, we’ll say that.  I might write about it once I finish (like tomorrow because it’s due at the library), but for now, I’ll bestow upon you her estimation that for every dozen textbook assholes, there’s one decent guy out there worth getting to know.  Oh joy.

Speaking of (part B)…I’m getting burnt out on dating.  Not in the jaded, hate-men kinda way.  Just burnt out on the actual ritual.  It’s not even that I’ve had that much bad luck lately, but more that it’s just boring and exhausting after a while.  I like Mr. Tuesday Night but am at a loss for a phase two because I feel like I’ve been out so much and done everything.  Even sushi is getting old at this point.

But, if I gave up, the opposite would be just as true.  As my dad told me once, he doesn’t know where to meet young potential future ex-boyfriends (my term, not his), but he’s pretty sure it doesn’t happen by sitting at home.  That would be insane.  Too.

Dating Down?

Please excuse me while I talk about how gorgeous I am (even more so than I would normally).

On my way to work this morning I caught the DJs talking about a recent study saying that relationships in which the woman is more attractive than the man are “doomed.”

My first reaction was, no, that’s not true.  Relationships, for women, are emotional and if they found the man they trust and love, they will stick with him, regardless of whether she could “do better.” Once pictures of me and Rebel hit Facebook, I heard from a college girlfriend who told me I could do better, but I explained to her that he was nice to me and I enjoyed his company.

I started thinking about some of the things I’ve heard from men I’ve dated recently.  TGISWOTSD told me I’d end up with someone better looking than him.  Mr. No Name asked me if I had low self-esteem because of what I had told him was my type – tall, bigger, “husky” even, a little rough around the edges.  I love me a manly man. 

More Marshall than Barney...not that I would complain if I were Lily right there!

I got closure on my last serious relationship when I remembered something he had said to me early on.  He told me that I could go out any night of the week and find a man to go home with.  I was really attracted to that boyfriend and completely enchanted during our high highs (being two Leos meant we also had low lows) and going out to find someone else to sleep with was nowhere on my mind. 

I thought it was just a nice way of him saying he thought I was hot and he felt lucky to be with me.  After a lot of jealous fights and breakups, I realized that’s not what he meant.  He meant he actually thought I WOULD do that.  That insecurity was his problem, not mine, so I realized I couldn’t have done anything else about it.

But, when I started to think about that side of aesthetically unbalanced relationships, I can see where the study makes sense.  With two emotionally healthy individuals, I don’t think an imbalance would make a difference, but if insecurity comes into play, perhaps doomed is accurate.

Either way, since my friend’s comment about Rebel, I’m making a point to go after men who are more on my level, which is especially easy at the buffet that is online dating.  I’ve done the “personality cute” guys, now it’s time to step it up to “I want to bang them 24/7” guys.

The Other Side, Again

So, as I bragged about in my WWW post for the week, I got rid of Rebel.  First of all, what kind of cold-hearted woman BRAGS about breaking up with someone?  What kind of woman gives herself so much credit anyway?

Things with R were not serious, there had been no L word mentioned (but there were red roses on V-Day…women read into that and I think men know that, so WTF?) and while, I think we were both kinda like, “you’re cool, I like hanging out with you,” I don’t think he was madly in love with me and I broke his poor, little heart by any means.

In fact, after going back and forth on a few issues, I said that we weren’t going to work out was because I was looking for something serious and he just wasn’t that.  After refuting all of my other reasons, to THAT, he was kind of like, “yeah, okay.”

So there you have it.  I can’t blame him for not wanting anything serious in his life right now and he can’t blame me for seeking it. 

But, I know if it were up to him, we would have trucked along with the status quo.  The break up was definitely one-sided and I have guilt over it and am a little sad for the loss of him as a friend. 

So yesterday when he posted something on Facebook about how it’s weird to go from talking to someone every day to just not, I sent him a text, being all, “no it’s cool, we can still talk, let’s be friends, let’s do all the stuff we talked about doing before.”  And I would truly be fine with that – because nothing has changed for me. 

I thought of him as a good friend before and basically it just took me some time to tell him that.  But to him, we were in a romantic relationship and, at least for the time being, I was his someone.  Until I called an audible.

Kinda like exactly what happened to me in November.  And the November guy legitimately wanted to be friends.  And so did I, at first, because I thought it would lead to him realizing how awesome I am and how lame he was for thinking otherwise.  But, just because his feelings weren’t there, didn’t mean mine could just go away and it was best for me to not see him at all anymore.

So when Rebel didn’t respond to my text, I was a  little hurt, but understood.  It’s not fair to tell someone that he’s awesome and you still want to hang out, but that it’s not going anywhere and eventually you’re going to want to make out and stuff with other guys instead of him.  You can’t have it both ways. 

I’m glad I’m on this other side again.  My guilt over ending things is nothing compared to the guilt I felt for keeping him on my hook.  Most importantly, I am really glad my boyfriend spot is free.

I’m totally loving Jerrod Niemann’s painfully true song, What Do You Want?, right now.  So, please enjoy his panty-dropping voice singing about the selfishness and heartache of staying in touch with exes: