New Beginnings

by Miss Independent

I have been doing a lot of thinking about the various ways in which relationships can begin.  Personally I have always met guys through mutual friends and had an initial undeniable chemistry with them from the very beginning.  However, I know this isn’t always the case.

Take my roommate for example…her relationship just kind of…well, happened.  She kept talking to a guy she met at a party because she liked that he was trying to get to know her instead of just trying to get in her pants.  She saw him as a friend but one day he kissed her and being a pretty passive person, she kissed him back.  They have together for over a year now.

It seems that there are four major ways in which relationships begin:

Friends first:  You become friends and after a while realize you have romantic feelings towards each other.

-Pro…you can really respect, appreciate and know the other person as well as feel very comfortable with them.  I’ve always heard that you should marry your best friend.  I guess this is what they are talking about.

-Con…the sexual stuff may be awkward at first and it can be difficult to discern if you really have romantic feelings for the other person because you already ‘love’ them as a friend.  Ew, personally I can’t imagine kissing my best guy friend…but that’s just me.  Also, once you make the move to a romantic relationship, it seems that it would be impossible to go back to being just friends.

Random hookup-turned-relationship: This is where you are sexual (even if it is just making out) before you even really know the other person but you decide to meet up again and the relationship progresses from there.  It seems that this is pretty common in the college scene.

-Pro…there is usually a strong sexual attraction.  They call that lust.  I like to call it the fun in a relationship.

-Con…your relationship might turn out to be based solely on sex and you may spend so much time being sexual that you don’t spend enough time getting to know each other…take away the sex and you really don’t have anything at all.  Hopefully this is something you figure out before you are married with children.

Mutual friends: You both hang out with the same group of people and realize you have a connection.

-Pro…you share the same social circle so you are less likely to ditch your friends.  Come on, we all hate on those people who give up their friends when they get in a relationship…this takes that problem out of the picture. Also, usually the sexual stuff and ‘getting to know each other’ progresses at the same rate and the beginning of the relationship is fairly pressure-free.

- Con…your friends will always be put in the middle and if you break up it is difficult to have a “clean break” when you both want to hang out with the same people.  This I know from personal experience and it is not at all fun.

Conventional dating:  This is the one I like to call “relationship fast track.”  This is where the first time you spend together is over a date.  Imagine the scenario that the guy gets the girl’s number at Starbucks and that weekend they go out to dinner.

-Pro… if you both agree to a date you are probably on the same page and curious about seeing if a relationship can blossom.  If the date doesn’t go well, you don’t need to worry about running into them awkwardly or having their trash talk get back to you (or vice versa).

- Con…dates can be really awkward.  It also creates a lot of pressure when you are one-on-one and the intent of the date is to see if you like each other.  Personally, I think dating is unnecessarily uncomfortable and people rarely come out of a date looking smooth and suave.

One way isn’t necessarily better than the others.  I’m not trying to meet anyone right now, but if this phenomenon did happen to occur, I guess I should be open to however the relationship begins.

Blasts from the past

By The Feminist

A few days ago, I received a facebook chat from my summer fling of 2006. I had met him at Topsail Beach and continued to meet him whenever my family decided to come back again, each time resulting in my un-classiest of moments that I later on regretted. Throughout the past three years, he has been the awkward bystander who I continually run into and continually try to avoid. I had not talked to him for almost two years. That is, until now.

It started with him stating that he had read my op/ed article in the newspaper, and that he had found it entertaining and a good-read. Under normal circumstances I would have ignored his comments altogether, but, as we all know, I am quite partial to flattery. Thus, I responded and before I knew it, I had agreed to go out for lunch the next day with him at Luly’s Café.

I wasn’t nervous, I wasn’t afraid of the chance of any inner feelings being brought to life, (mainly because I don’t remember any solid emotions for him in the first place) I was just interested. I had a chance to reestablish myself as a different person from the naïve and easily persuaded sixteen year-old girl of my past. I had the ability to show off characteristics that I did not have before: I had more confidence now, more knowledge and insight, more insusceptible to lies, even a different style of dress. What I didn’t expect, however, was that he might have changed just as much as I had as well.

Once there, we talked over Cuban sandwiches and espresso coffee, swapped stories, shared experiences, laughed over our youth, and surprisingly, I had a great time. Who knew that the overly cocky and arrogant kid with a surfboard was now practically a man?  I’m not going to lie- I was kind of impressed. Now, I had made it a rule for myself a long time ago that I would never do repeats. That is, I would never go for the same boy more than once because my theory was that if it did not work out the first time, it is never going to work out. Unfortunately, I have not been very diligent with this.

This blast from the past was a definite grade-A jerk that every girl should avoid then…but what about now? Could I persuade myself against the contrary by a couple of hours in a small café? I decided to test it out. I spent the day with him, and then the next day, and then the night after that. All days he did not make a move, though the flirtation was clear. This was a considerable difference from the old him, which would have pounced on any sitting duck who was within 10 yards of him or his bed. Then, on the third night of us hanging out, he busted a move. And then came another situation that I was not expecting. Back when I was 15 and highly inexperienced, I could distinctly remember him be very suave and an amazing kisser. Three years of action later….I came to realize that his skills had stayed static, while mine had risen considerably. All of a sudden, all the suppressed emotions and sexual attraction that I had been feeling towards him went caput. It is amazing how long it takes for a person to like another when a single move can quickly turn one completely off. Turns out, a blast from the past is exactly that- sudden and spontaneously satisfying, but brief and fleeting at the same time.

The Age Gap

by The Feminist

In high school, I dated a senior as a freshman…for two weeks. He was leaning in to give our first goodbye kiss when I sideswiped him, gave him a hug instead, then dashed out of the hallway. As a then virgin kisser, this moment made me realize not only that perhaps a warm embrace was not enough in a relationship, but that we were on entirely different experience levels.

Then came senior year. I was going through the oh-so typical and dramatic teenage angst and rebellion period of my life and encountered sex for the first time…with a man (key word is “man”) who was significantly older than I was.  I was in the moment before I even realized it, and despite all of my supposed strength and revolution, I came to terms with that fact that I was still naive, still not ready. So I did what I did before-flee.

And even now, as a strong-willed and independent college woman, the age gap is still trailing me every single year since I was a preteen. Now, however, instead of finding that I am too young for a guy, I realize that I am too mature for many guys- ranging in all ages:

There has been the freshmen college boys, who although only one year younger than I, find it hard to carry on a conversation devoid of drugs, sex and alcohol. And surprisingly from past experiences, the freshmen generation has apparently become clingy to the point of desperate and nagging. Last semester, I made the mistake of giving out interested signals during one night, and it taking up to two months of ignoring facebook comments, flirty texts, and awkward sightings in public for him to get the point.

There have been boys that are my age- that I have made a rule to avoid in general. This reason mostly pertained to the chances of me running into them in the same residential areas, attending the same classes, and hanging out at the same general places. Furthermore, I have too big of an ego to take someone who is my same age seriously when their credentials don’t match mine, or come even near. Pretentious and arrogant I know…but still true. I can excuse guys that are younger than me because they have the age advantage, and I can get along more with guys older than me because they are more mature than the lather. But for guys that are my exact age, the ones who I should be relating the most to, I find the least in common with.

Finally, there are the older guys. 21 year-olds don’t cut it anymore- they are way too excited about the fact that they can drink legally that if you happen to see them sober three out of seven days of the week, you are lucky. Most of the time, they are still struggling to find out what they want to do with their lives, their goals, and their rent, aka their love life is also in shambles as well. I don’t have patience for 21 year-olds. 22 year-olds aren’t much different; it is just the after-effects of the 21st year lingering. 23, I have found, is the seemingly the most appropriate age for a girl like me at 19. And I have found one! I can have in-depth conversations with him about any topic under the sun, and actually enjoy it. For the first time in a long time, I don’t have to deal with the straightaway sexual comments and suggestive nonverbals. The problem is though, is that with a full-time job and a tiresome attitude toward the parties, the nightlife and the at least occasional stupid humor and playful flirting, he (who I now refer to as G-pa, short for grandpa), is a habitual bore. I mean for heaven’s sakes when has a one to four age difference become a decade of difference? I can’t catch a break! It’s just amazing how at one age a boy is a raging adolescent, and then in one year transform into a man who wears stiff business clothes, disconnects himself with anyone younger than him, and is too “grown-up” to throw a casual get-together.

Love,

The exasperated, restless, sexually and emotionally deprived, and exhausted from crossing out one option after another, FEMINIST

Miss Independent’s Tips for Singles

So I have been out of a relationship for about three months now and I am remembering just how much I love being single.  Of course I miss some things about being with someone, but I love having the excitement of meeting cute guys and having new prospects.  I might not be looking for another relationship for a while, but nothing says I can’t have fun in the meantime.

This weekend put a little damper on my “fun” because it was Valentine’s Day.  I won’t even get started with how stupid I think this commercialized holiday is…however, despite my indifference, it can’t help but be the one day in the year that a small part of me wants a special someone.  I hate to admit that.  I blame it on the chocolate…it is an aphrodisiac.

I actually have met a guy that I am a little interested in.  Though “interested in” is a relative term for me.  I’m not looking to date him, but I would like to hang out more.  I have been out of the game for so long that I don’t quite remember how to “hook” a guy.  I feel a little like an 80 year old woman trying to date again.

Part of me feels really comfortable back in this land of the single people, but sometimes I feel like I am out of practice.  I also seem to have forgotten some of the important lessons I learned before I got in a relationship and now that I am single again I have to re-learn them.  I have made some mistakes of my own and I have witnessed other girls make mistakes.  Here are 5 tips for girls who are out in the scary single world:

1. Guys are all the same.  You may think you have found one who is ‘different’ from the others, but it is not true.  Deep down they are all the same.  This has its benefits though because you always know what you are working with and once you figure out one of them, you have figured out all of them.
2. Don’t waste your time playing silly games.  Guys don’t like to play.  There is a difference between getting a guy to chase you and getting a guy to play games with you.  If he has to play games, he will lose interest.  If you are into a guy let him know.  If you are not into a guy let him know.  It saves us all time and energy.
3. If you want to date a guy, don’t give too much too fast.  Haven’t you heard the saying, “why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?”
4. No one, guys or girls, like someone who is clingy.  If you are always the first one to text or call or make a move…just stop.  If half your calls and texts are being ignored…REALLY stop. Move on.
5. Do not worry about what others think.  Sure, if your friends strongly encourage you to stay away from a guy because he is a pathological liar, on probation, or married…you may want to listen. But if you are afraid to give a ‘geek’ or the ‘frat boy’ a chance because of stereotypes or what others will say or think, then there is no excuse.  If you like him, give him a chance.  It may pay off.

-          Miss Independent

The Walk of Pride

by The Feminist

A few weeks ago, my dear friend repeated what her wise father once told her, “It’s not called the Walk of Shame, it’s the Ride of Pride!” To which I responded, “How true.”

“Walk of Shame: After spending the night at a member of the opposite sex’s house, having to walk home in the morning looking trashy, romped and hungover.” ~ urbandictionary.com

Now, I am sure that you have known people who have done the walk of shame; I for one have listened to plenty of stories where guys sneak back to their rooms shoeless and clothes in disarray. I have seen girls creep at 11 am to their dorms in a guy’s shirt hanging to their knees, and their club dress from the night before slung over their shoulder. Hell, I have been to parties where the walk of shame is not only an act, but also a theme. This past, week, I myself, was a guilty participant of the walk of so-called “shame.”

This particular boy that led to our unruly act, was brought on in result of a night filled with hormones, flirtation, a dollop of foolish behavior and a pinch of pure, under the influence stupidity. Granted, the subject, whom we shall call B.B., was one that I had been eying for a while, and had a face and physique that would make any gay man drool. May I just say many thanks to my “DD” who was obliterated to the point of no return, and who in consequence led to B.B.’s ride and offer of “three couches that you can sleep on.” But really, we both knew I wasn’t going to sleep on the couch.

Come morning after, I was woken up in B.B.’s bed by still inebriated DD. Now, I would like to interrupt to say that while I am perfectly fine with the Walk of Shame, the process of the morning after is one that I would choose to skip altogether. The groggy-eyed exchanges are nothing but awkward, the grossness of morning breath kisses, and the unwanted chance to actually look at the other in daylight, makes me not only want to gargle Listerine for 5 minutes, but feel the full wrath of self-consciousness as well. I won’t even get into the 20-minute search for undergarments, or attempting to cover oneself up while making their way to the bathroom, either.

Once I established that it was time for me to go home, got dressed in last night’s clothes, tried and failed to fix my sex hair, which had doubled in both height and width, B.B. and I walked down his apartment and to his car. I made it to the sidewalk before I stopped at a dead halt when I realized which car B.B. was actually going towards. Oh, dear God.

For some reason, I had no recollection of driving the night before in what looked to be a 1990 station wagon the color of sandpaper and size of my twin bed. Oh, and let’s not forget the two blue golf balls dangling from the rear-view mirror to complete the touch.

On first, initial thought, I adamantly refused to be seen in this trash dump of a vehicle in public. Then I considered asking a friend for a ride instead, or even calling a cab. But I had gone too far. I had no choice but to hop in.

Then there is the ride home: where the two of you try to fill in silence with meaningless talk. A tip for notice- you know that talking has failed when he turns up the music. Then there is the point where he actually has arrived at your place, and the expectancy of a kiss goodbye is ensued. I, however, do not believe in goodbye kisses after one night stands. Nor, for that matter, getting their number. So I blurted out a quick bye and thanks, then walked over to my apartment.

To put in perspective, I was wearing my neon and striped hip-hugger dress from last night’s blacklight party, my white heels in hand, yellow trench coat over the shoulder, smudged make-up, and what can only be described as a rat’s nest of hair on the back of my head. Now, you have two choices: you can bow your head down in “shame,” or you can strut the stride (barefoot or not) and congratulate oneself on a night well done. Furthermore, even though all passersby may be judging your “Ride of Pride,” they are probably simultaneously thinking, “Why not me?”

It is, after all, the most enjoyable of all the morning after moments. It is also the equivalent of going out of your room, raising both hands up and yelling SCORE! at the top of your lungs after an one night stand. I for one, would choose the Ride of Pride every time.

The Breakup

by Miss Independent

Breakups suck.  After being with my boyfriend for over a year and a half, we finally ended things.  Not because of cheating or a fight or anything like that…it just wasn’t going to work out even though we still cared for each other.  Being in a relationship like this made me realize that life is not like the movies…well duh of course it’s not, but you know what I mean.  We all want to live “The Notebook” but in reality that almost never happens.  Just because two people love each other doesn’t mean things will work out.  In the real world Ali and Noah would have been broken up within a year.

I know I sound pessimistic and bitter, but no one can tell you what a real breakup is like until you have to experience it.   It doesn’t matter who broke up with whom; if you still love the other person then it may be the hardest thing you ever have to go through.  Apparently the stages of a breakup are like the stages of grieving.  I wish I could go all “Eternal Sunshine” on him and erase everything so I don’t have to go through stages.  People always said it takes half the time you were with someone to get over them, but there is NO WAY I want it to take 8 months!  I don’t know if I can make it past this week.

Day One

The breakup happened around 1:30am and when I woke up I think I was still a little bit in shock.  Then a text from my friend made the crying start…and it didn’t stop for the rest of the day.  It seems pretty pathetic because I am not a big crier, but I was like a walking Niagra Falls.  The weather was definitely not on my side with the constant torrential downpour that matched my own downpour coming from my eyes.

Being me I was pissed at myself for being so depressed, so in an effort to cheer myself up I went out with my roommate that night.  A few drinks later I was in a pretty good place.  I was smiling and laughing and for the first time that day I had no desire to cry.  I even spontaneously announced to my friend that I wanted to get a tattoo on the weekend….apparently alcohol causes one to consider permanent body mutilation.  Anyway, forgot to take into account that alcohol is a depressant so obviously a couple hours later during the ride home I was depressed again. Got home and into my bed.  Alcohol may be a depressant, but at least it puts you to sleep.

Day Two

10 hours of sleep later my alarm went off and I had to force myself to get up.  I felt that one of my eyes was really puffy.  I glanced in the mirror and yes in fact my eye looked really puffy.  Great, I looked like I got punched in the face.   It’s my philosophy that if you don’t feel good, you can at least look good, so I put on a super cute outfit and left my apartment (the eye looking better).  I didn’t feel so super cute when the cold wind attacked me, my hair and my super cute outfit. Thanks again universe!  I went about my day actually feeling a little better and no longer wanting to cry.  After seeing one of my roommates I hadn’t seen since the breakup, I informed her of the news and we decided it was a problem that we hadn’t crossed paths for almost two days.  Apparently one of us needs to come out of our room more often.

Later in the day I was in a pretty good place, with the conscious recognition that he cannot make me happy.  Happiness is mine and I have to create it for myself.  Hopefully that means a better sleep…

Day Three

I woke up to my alarm realizing I had been having a dream about my ex.  Great, my mind is betraying me.  The general mood for the day was anger at basically everything.    There are times when I blame my ex for the demise of our relationship.  He should have cared more, he should have treated me better, he should have tried harder, etc.   These are not healthy thoughts and I don’t want to hold a grudge.  I tried mediating but it’s not really my thing.  After 30 seconds I was like “screw this I need to go do something productive.”  Hmm those 30 seconds may have done something though because I was no longer angry.  I like this new Zen me.

Once I got past the anger the day was actually pretty awesome.  I signed up to do some good and volunteer, a friend and I went out and participated in some intense retail therapy, and I went to a party and ended up having a pretty weird but fun night.  Advice: stay busy!

Day Four

Volunteered in the morning and was feeling pretty happy with myself.  The time I would have spent on my (now ex) boyfriend I can devote to people who need it….and who actually appreciate it.  It’s nice not having to worry about someone else.  Everything I do, I do for me.  That’s the way it should be.

One word…REBOUND!  No, I did not have a one night stand (thanks for the advice mom) but I tried to make out with some guy and honestly the whole time I wanted to be somewhere else.  When I say “whole time” it was really like two seconds before I decided it wasn’t what I wanted.

My best friend from home was in town so I went to see him.  Problem: he is good friends with the ex.  That’s awkward and inconvenient.  I ended up having to see my ex for the first time since the breakup…not really sure how that went because I was a hot mess.  Note to self: next time I am in a relationship, don’t have mutual friends.

Day Five

Slowly recovered from the night before and met up with my friend from home.  Once again I had to be around my ex for a few minutes and that (along with the realization that I had a lot of homework) put me in a crappy mood.   Later during girl time my friend informed me that boy I kissed told her he was the relationship-type.  That is NOT what I am looking for.  Regrets.  I hate Sundays.  I hate boys too.

Day Six

The day was full of anger for ever having met him.  Fantastic.  Is this the anger stage of the breakup?  According to a lot of websites about breaking up, depression will come next.  Wasn’t that day one?  I don’t know if I am doing this right.

Day Seven

It has been seven days.  I wonder if he thinks about me and misses me.  There are still times when I miss him and wonder what things could have been like if we had worked things out, but those thoughts are coming less and less.  Everyone knows that I do better as a single girl.  It is going to take a lot longer than one week to be totally over this, but I am on my way.

To my ex: If you are reading this I want you to know that there will always be a part of me that loves you and misses you.  Good luck with everything in your life…remember to thank the universe like I taught you!  Maybe sometime in the future when we have moved past this we will be able to be friends.

P.S. When I get a turtle I am still going to name it Jimmy J  And whenever you see me in boots I am probably wearing the lame, nerdy socks you love so much.

-        Miss Independent

Taboo

by The Not-So-Lonely Traveler

Before I say anything else, I have to follow the Feminist’s lead and give my hubby a code-name. I will be referring to him a lot in the future, and it will make things less confusing for you, and I won’t have to think of creative synonyms for “boyfriend.” Anyway, I told him about the existence of this blog a while ago, and since he reacted in such an unexpectedly positive manner, I decided to give him a choice of moniker. He wants be called “Kobe.” I am sure you can figure out which fandom that originated from.

(Give you a hint: Basketball.)

Honestly, before this past weekend,the previous few weeks had been a little bit difficult. We were fighting a lot over absolutely nothing, so I almost considered going to relationship counseling (by myself), and in a couple instances I actually completely lost my temper with him, which is something I hardly ever do. However, by some miraculous turn of events, we both apologized and tried to accept our differences and we’ve been doing much, much better ever since.

After that, it was no surprise that last weekend turned out amazing. But on top of the previous amazingness of our making up, Kobe got an awesome internship, so we celebrated the hell out of it and spent a little bit too much of his money. We splurged on Hiro, went to Panera, saw a movie, hung out at home, walked through the wildflower preserve, and went to Target and the mall to dress him up (I LOVE doing that!! He makes such a good doll. :] ). And uh, let’s just say my bed’s creaking again.

But yesterday, Kobe broke a super boyfriend taboo.

Before I continue, let me begin by defining “boyfriend taboo-” this is something that a boyfriend specifically is not allowed to talk about or do as long as he is still in a relationship, which may be responded to with varying degrees of punishment from the girl. These taboos may include, (depending on the girl), not backing up their girlfriend in an altercation with another person, telling their girlfriend that yes, those jeans do indeed make your butt look fat, or having a porn-stasche.

The taboo my boyfriend violated was most akin to the second one, however, it’s kind of my fault it happened. For a couple months now, I’ve been trying to lose weight, and of course… I’ve gotten Kobe pretty involved in it, because he has to cooperate with my dietary needs whenever he comes here, and sometimes he fancies himself as my “personal trainer” (once again, something I made him do a couple times), so it wasn’t surprising that this popped up. In fact, it was kind of hilarious.

So we were talking on AIM last night, and I had left to go do something (probably to make dinner), and when I came back, this was in my chat window (somewhat paraphrased):

Kobe12523: When you get back, you should check out this thing I just found!

Kobe12523: I just saw a commercial for these and they look AWESOME!!

Kobe12523: http://www.reebok.com/microsites/easytone_reebok/

Hint hint?

Also, you should check out the commercial I will now link you to to show you exactly what commercial I thought he saw:

Now, I of course started teasing him about it, and he swears that he saw a commercial with some kinda scientist in it and not the one I just linked. I did some research, and here are the alternate commercials I found:

Doghouse aaand doghouse. :]

And then I FINALLY found this one, which is the only ad I could find that had anything scientific in it:

So, that’s probably the one he saw. But it kinda raises the question, who the crap are they advertising to with those other three commercials?! The only ad that made me actually want Easytone shoes was the last one in the series! Now I want them! A lot! Dammit!

So the conclusion of this story is… I may be updating my Christmas list, but Kobe is obviously not allowed to buy those for me, regardless of which commercial he saw. I apparently do not mind other people making suggestions like that, but for some reason, my boyfriend wandering into my personal butt-toning territory just makes things weird.

I am going to pretend I thought of it myself. Hooray! Problem solved. :]

Now, uh… anyone wanna get those for me?

 

EDIT: It was confirmed by Kobe that the last ad was indeed the one he saw. Also, Reebok should pay me big money for this free advertising. That is all.

Best Weekend Ever.

by The Free Spirit

Well, it’s certainly been an eventful week. I went on my first “real” date in a long time. He paid for dinner and a movie and he opened doors – well most of the time. Chivalry isn’t dead, only on life support. I was a little worried that it would be horribly awkward considering I’m a little out of practice with the whole casual dating scene. And as we all know, I tend to get confused about dating/relationship terminology.

Surprisingly, things went well. We didn’t run out of things to talk about – spending half of the date in a movie theater helped – and we never got to the awkward, “Umm… so, what’s your favorite color?” conversation. I was pleasantly surprised when he dropped me back off at my apartment and didn’t expect to come inside or even make that clumsy, hesitant lean in for a kiss.  I haven’t talked to him much since, but he did IM me (hello, middle school!) and say that it was my job to plan the next date.

Two days after that date, I had a date of a different kind. I was at a show when my roommate texted me, “Lol David* thinkz youre hot.” Hell yes. I texted back, “I think he’s hot. I’d totally do him.” Not long after, David (not the same boy I went on a date with earlier in the week) texts me and asks me to hang out after the show. Fast-forward to 2am and I’m in his apartment sitting on the couch with him. It started out innocently enough, listening to music and talking while cuddling. And then Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World” came on. The start of this song clearly turned the proverbial “sexually active” switch to the on position. We stayed on the couch for a little bit until David said, “There’s more room in the bedroom.” Clever. We moved there and the clothes we were wearing were “too hot” and “uncomfortable,” so naturally, they had to come off. Things happened and well… it was good.

The next morning while David was in the shower, I texted my roommate who set up this marvelous rendezvous. “I’m at David’s” Not even a full minute went by before she replied, “Whhaaaatt?! When did this happen?” She demanded that I come home immediately and share the details. David got out of the shower and I left shortly thereafter with an awkward hug at the door. I walk of shamed my way out of there and raced home to share the details with my roomies. My other roommate bought be a lottery ticket in hopes that I “get lucky twice.”

I’m not sure what happens next or what proper etiquette is in this situation, but I do know that I feel like Tom in “500 Days of Summer” in the scene where he walks down the street with cartoon birds flying around and people singing and dancing around him.

Mr. Nice Guy No More

When you are first getting to know a guy, they try sooo hard.  They show you their best side and are always trying to impress you and make you happy.  Speed forward a few months and the fights start.  Suddenly this seemingly super sweet and perfect guy is rearing his ugly head.  He stops doing nice things for you and starts taking you for granted.  The loving talk is replaced with angry outbursts and sarcasm.   He no longer wants to be with you every waking moment, and frankly…you don’t want to be around him either.

So, where did Mr. Nice Guy go and how do you make him come back?

I can’t answer that question and if anyone can, please share your wisdom.  The only explanation I have is that when you are with someone for a while, the Honeymoon period passes and you fall into a routine with them.   The rose-colored glasses come off and you start seeing your significant other’s flaws.  It is no longer exciting just to be around them and I guess the trick is to keep your relationship exciting by doing new and fun things together.

Well, I tried to go out for a nice lunch with my guy this past weekend, and when our plans didn’t exactly go as planned he had a hissy fit.  Instead of making the best of our situation, he wanted to turn around and go home, sulking and being a jerk to me for the rest of the day.  Yep, one little incident (which was not at all my fault) caused fighting for the rest of the day…until he had a nap.  Hello!  Are we 5 years old?  It took a NAP for him to stop being a grump and start being nice.  I guess he is preparing me for having annoying, bratty kids some day

When things seem to go downhill, why do you stay with someone who suddenly isn’t making you as happy as he did the first few months?  I think this is normal for every couple, and sometimes we need to remember why we got together in the first place.  I may be pretty critical of relationships, but there are good aspects of being in a long-term, serious one. Here are my top 5 favorite parts of being in a relationship.

All the physical stuff. I’m not just talking about the intimate stuff.  I’m not a very affectionate person, but everyone needs a hug every once in awhile.  When you are in a relationship, you get lots of that kind of stuff.   The other day I was taking a road trip with my guy and it had been a stressful day and I was in need of some comfort, so when we finally got out of the car I got a big bear hug that instantly lifted my mood.  Also, forget your coat? Well, those same arms can be a great substitute.  Hmmm…maybe I will keep the boyfriend around for the winter.

Comfort. If you have been with someone for a while you get really comfortable with them…often too comfortable.  But I kind of like that.  The self-consciousness goes away and you stop always trying to impress them.   That make-up free face, bed-head hair and morning breath are adorable to them.  They see the real you, bad and good.  You start talking about things that you wouldn’t talk about with someone you just met.  You are comfortable talking about basically everything, and I mean EVERYTHING…I won’t go into details.

Built-in ally.  It is nice having someone you can count on to be there for you.  A significant other is a built-in best friend.  Not only can they be a great connection to new people and parties (assuming they have friends and a social life outside of you), but you have someone to hang out with when you are bored.  It is also easier to take risks and face your fears…things aren’t as scary when you have someone beside you.

Acceptance. I can be weird and random and at times psychotic and hormonal.  When someone loves you, they don’t run away from that.  Suddenly your weird outbursts are “cute” to another person and they love the stupid faces you make and the fact that you talk to your fish like it’s your baby…yeah, I’m guilty.

Having someone to share the moments with. Bla, that sounds totally lame…gag me.  But seriously, your friends really don’t care about how you did on your big test or if your grandmother dies.  I mean they are going to act sympathetic but really they are probably just happy it’s not their grandmother…but someone who loves you is going to be sad because you are sad and they will happily let you cry on their shoulder.  And it’s not just about the bad moments.  Personally I would rather watch the sunset on the beach with my boyfriend than my roommate…and I love my roommates.

 

THE FEMINIST: THE TWO-WEEK STAND

Found a boy. Liked boy. Enjoyed boy. Had boy mini-break. Annoyed with boy. Pitied boy. Boy no more. Thus explains more or less the last two weeks of my almost-blooming relationship with said boy, who we shall call Marshall.

Not even a week after I had realized that wow! I might actually want a semi-legit relationship, the goddess of love bestowed me with a candidate. Where, might one ask? The club. Yes, the epicenter of dry humping and drunken mistakes was where I first landed my target. What is more, I continued with my classy streak by partaking in the age-old act of the one-night-stand. Wait- it gets better; my roommate and I ended up doing the deed at the same time, with both our laptops blasted to drown out non-music related sounds, with boys that were best friends.  Needless to say on the scale of memorable moments, this was the goldmine.

The next morning- I immediately made the decision not to talk to this kid ever again. But then, he asked for my number. And I obliged him. Then came the flirty texts, and the urging of the roommate to “double date” with the boys again. And I obliged all of them again. Then came the so called “honeymoon” period; where both of us could not get enough of each other and just his name alone would result in a cheesy grin. He called me “my girl” and I actually was seeing the same guy consistently: it was progress. I even decided to ignore some characteristics of his person, such as: the fact that he attended a community college, that he was living with his parents still, and that it was questionable to say that I have ever seen him completely sober of all drugs and alcohol besides the morning after.

The week after the honeymoon period became the week of intense frustration and annoyance. Not only the fact that Marshall was a qualified “screw-up,” but he also turned out to be unreliable, dim in the head, and had the attention span of an 8-year-old child. Respect for him dwindled, as did patience and attraction. I became irritated at him, for his lack of maturation level, and myself, for seeming to be unable to keep interest in the opposite sex for more than two weeks.

So basically, it ended up with me telling a half-naked Marshall laying on my bed that I was not attracted to him anymore, and did not like him as much as I did earlier that week. He was understandably less than pleased, attempted driving back home at 3 AM until I pushed him back on the bed, and told him to forget everything that I just said in a fruitless moment of guilt and indecision. Not only did I portray two different emotions to him within two minutes, but I also managed to end up having make-up/pity sex-, which, by the way, the rumors are false….it was awful. Talk about mixed signals.

Woke up the next morning to firmly decide never to see boy ever again after today. I supported this by eliminating all chances of him coming back to my apartment- including handing over his stray belongings to his friend to pass over. Advantage of situation: now I actually have more time to focus my studies (which I have been steadily been slacking over the past few weeks); Disadvantage: I now have 4 months of birth control that I just bought for no apparent use at all. I guess a two-week stand is too early to fully commit to an appointment with the gynecologist.