“I Love You” and Other Idiotic Phrases

Remember that time you accidently said “I love you” to your sort-of boyfriend of three months?

Oh, wait you probably don’t because that happened to me. Not you.

We are all creatures of habit, and for several years I was dropped off at school by loving parents who would often wish me well, tell me to make good choices, and often say “Goodbye, love you!” As a teenager I would slam the car door shut as quickly as possible to ensure no one heard the ridiculous affection my parents had for me. In middle school the only love I wanted was from my boyfriend of two weeks. It was social suicide to have parents hug you, let alone tell you they loved you. Obviously, this may be an exaggeration. But back then it sure as hell felt that way.

After years of carpool lanes and “Goodbye, love you!”, I was taught to reciprocate. So when The Bartender dropped me off for my class last week, I instinctively said “Love you!” as I closed the car door.

As the car drove away, this was me:

https://i1.wp.com/media.tumblr.com/tumblr_meftnrDLLd1rnvwt1.gif

As soon as I sat down in my class I hurriedly sent a text: FORCE OF HABIT ACCIDENT. 

I wasn’t aware that I could feel utterly mortified, embarrassed, disgraced, shamed and humiliated all at the same time. (Except for the morning after I threw up a hostel floor and my roommate had to clean it up and remind me about it the next morning) but it turns out I have that ability even when I haven’t been drinking.

*On another note: more posts to come after this college kid finishes her final exams.

The Next Level

I maybe should have prefaced that I would be talking a lot about dating on this blog, mainly because it’s the most new and unexplored territory that I encounter in my day to day life. It used to entail engaging with Italian culture and formulating travel plans. Now I’m reduced to analyzing the meaning behind the use of the word ‘babe. Go figure.

So as things have forged on with The Bartender, I’m entering into new territory once again.  The shift from dating to a relationship. It’s been a solid two months since we began dating and we’re spending loads of time together every day. At certain points he’s used the word ‘babe’ in regards to me. The first time he said it was in the middle of the night when I was tossing and turning, with sleep hours away. I thought I heard it wrong. He must have said “What’s wrong Dave?” reverting back to that one time he went through a curious phase in college.

I’m joking of course. He doesn’t have any homosexual tendencies…that I know of.

Then he used in again. So casually. Babe. I guess I missed the memo that we are at the point of pet names. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing wrong with the term itself. I’m just confused about what it means, besides the name of a pig or a hot girl on the beach.

In a time where your relationship status is plastered on your Facebook for everyone to see and where DTR conversations are rampant (DTR: Defining The Relationship) what actually constitutes the next level of dating?

When I was 15 and started dating my ex-boyfriend, we said “I love you” after 2 weeks. At the time, it was just what you said to make the end of phone calls less awkward than ‘bye’. It only came after time that I found what it truly meant. And I firmly believe that every love is different, every relationship brings a new dynamic, a new power struggle, a new set of problems, and new joys.

So what do I do at this point? The Bartender has commitment issues (surprise surprise) so he’s not ready for the official label yet. Honestly, neither am I. I was a ‘girlfriend’ for so long and I had all the duties that came with the title. So what does being in a relationship really mean outside of the digital realm? From what I’ve gathered it means that you care about the person, more than just a regular hook-up and dinners. You find yourself wanting to spend time with them over other people. You want to cook for them. You’re definitely not seeing anybody else or actively looking for better options. You’re happy. You’re still struggling to figure out the other person. Every day, you let a little more of your guard down and let them see another side of you. Much like everything else in my life right now, it’s terrifying.

 

One vs The One

Since March, I’ve been conquering men in bars, both locally and internationally. While it was a fruitful summer with a multitude of good stories to tell for years to come, I had promised myself I would slow it down by the time fall and school rolled around.

And then I met someone (see Disasters in Dating). Someone I didn’t sleep with at first. Someone I like to actually hang out with because he doesn’t make me want to claw my eyes out from boredom. Oh and he’s cute. From henceforth, in all future forays with this boy, he shall be referred to as The Bartender.

I over-analyze everything. I mean everything. So while I was going through my one night stand phase, I analyzed everything in the days following a hook-up. Now that I’m dating someone, I still analyze everything and constantly wonder how I’m faring in the dating world. So far I can’t decide which option comes with more stress.

One Night Stands

One night of sweaty, somewhat intoxicated sex. The shared agreement to limiting the amount of knowledge about the other person. Due to that agreement, talking is usually limited to banal topics that you won’t really care about the other person knowing (ie: things that you would find on my Facebook if you creeped hard enough). The walk of shame in the morning. That weird moment where ya’ll can’t decide whether or not to spoon. The feeling of both achievement (if you bang a 10) and disappointment in your self-worth. The look that tells each other it’s on. Free drinks. The questions following the one nighter: Will he call me? Why wasn’t I worth waiting for? Why am I already horny again? What was his last name? Am I bad in bed? The aftermath includes wondering how many lies he told you to get into your pants, wishing you worked out more so those flabby bits weren’t as…well…flabby, and usually regret. Usually.

Dating

A tepid toe into the waters of getting to know each other. Dates where the conversation is foreplay, instead of a slap on the ass. Personality becomes a factor. A big one at that. Attraction can only go so far without an actual connection. Sex is steady, but isn’t dull. The feeling of constantly wanting to impress someone with your charm, wit, and appearance. The fear that they will find something out about you and immediately dump yo’ crazy ass. Seeing that look in their eye that lets you know they like you. Free drinks and free meals. The questions that follow: Will he call me? What do they think of me? Am I interesting enough to capture their attention? Am I the only one they are seeing? Do I really need to shave my legs againThe aftermath includes wondering how long you have to lie about not eating carbs, wishing you could stay and cuddle for hours (especially with the recent appearance of fall weather in Texas), and the knowledge that the more time you spend with that person is directly proportional to how much it’s going to hurt when you stop seeing each other.

Which is the lesser of two evils? I’m going to go with the one where spooning is non-optional…for now anyways.

Disasters in Dating

WTF.

I apologize for the lack of posts. What with school starting up again this fall I haven’t been nearly as bored as I was during my internships. But there’s something else I’ve been doing lately – I’m kind of, sort of, seeing someone.

Oh yes.

I feel like just as I was getting into the whole idea of being single and gettin’ my swag on at the bars every weekend, I just happened to wind up dating someone. After of course, my mother asked him for his phone number and he subsequently wrote it down for us as a joke. And then I in turn left him a note reading, “If you were just working for a tip tonight, great job, but if you need someone to squeeze your flat ass sometime, give me a call.”

Oh yes.

And my crass humor and brazen (mostly delusional) self-confidence got me a lunch date, followed by many more drinks out and now I’m here. Dating someone. It’s new and it’s uncomfortable and I constantly feel like I have no idea what I’m doing or what I’m supposed to do.  It’s been almost 6 months since I ended things with my ex-boyfriend of over five years. He was my first everything. First real date, first time saying ‘I love you’, first date kiss, first sleepover, first fight, first struggle to find a balance in a relationship.

My most recent first date…ended in a high five.

And the awkwardness didn’t stop there. I’ve been fumbling my way through dating for the past few weeks and let me tell you, it’s nothing like a romantic comedy. I’ve said numerous things that have made me sound more idiotic than a drunk, blonde girl who ‘auditioned’ to be in a Girls Gone Wild video.  I told him I was scared of his penis. I’ve thrown up in his front yard and proceeded to pass out in his bathroom. Last night, on accident, I punched him in the groin.

Oh yes.

I’m sure there will be more stories to come. I can’t imagine I’ll get any better at this.

Hm…really? You don’t say.

I’m Drunk and You’re Pretty

The following have been said to or by yours truly.

Things You Don’t Want to Hear in a Bar:

“If they don’t take you home, I will.”

Man: “Usually you would buy me a drink.” Uh actually I wouldn’t and I won’t. I have boobs. Boobs trump penis any day.

“Look, they’ve been laying the groundwork, but I’d much rather go home with you tonight.”

“I’m not with her, she’s just a friend. She’s actually on the Varsity Swim Team.” Yeah, she’s just a friend. And I’m just tipsy.

“I went to BYU.” Mormons.

“How can I get you home?” If you have to ask, it’s not going to happen.

“I’m not doing well, am I?” Not after that comment. Maintaining what little confidence you had is only going to get more difficult from here on out.

“I know your mom.” Although it would be worse if they said, “You look like your mom.”

“Oh you’re from TCU? You’re one of those girls.” Actually no, I’m not one of those girls, but you are, in fact, one of those assholes who assume stereotypes are always correct.

“I would hit that.” And I would hit your face.

“Please stop. You’re messing with my other options.”

“I remember your white blazer from last night. It’s very…um…unforgettable.”

“In my free time I play video games.” Guys, even if this is all you do in your free time, never say it to a girl. I watch Sex and the City all day, every day and I would never admit that to a potential.

Things I’m Fond of Hearing in Bars:

“Could I buy you a beer?” I don’t care that my Shiner is $1 tonight and that’s why you’re offering, a free drink always taste better.

“I’m from Britain.” & “I have a Swedish passport.” Anything that tells me that you are not American and I’m dropping my jaw (among other things) at the bar.

“I’m 24.” & “I work [here].” Job, check. Not a boy, check. Got your shit together, check.

“Would you like this seat?” Thank you for checking out my ass and then noticing how good it looks because of my 5 inch heels that I can barely walk in.

“I can’t concentrate because you’re smile is so pretty.” Aw, shucks, thanks orthodontia.

I hope everyone has a splendid Friday night out.

Don’t Send That Text

Things to do with your hands instead of texting ‘that guy’:

1. Eat some fruit. Certain fruit is actually quite labor intensive and requires intricate thinking and focus. Your mind needs to be focused on spitting out that seed when you’re eating a cherry or pulling a grape off a vine. You could lose a finger while you’re peeling the skin off that kiwi or mango.

2. Rearrange your apartment. Moving around your cabinets so that your wine glasses are in closer proximity to the bottles of wine will remind you why you live alone and why it’s nice to not have your priorities judged.

3. Make a list. Write a list of all the things you need to do that you’ve been putting off. I mean that Greek yogurt you ran out of this morning isn’t going to buy itself. You could also take this time to make a list of all the reasons why ‘that guy’ sucks at life. Or make a list of all the excuses you’re giving him for not texting you.

4. Facebook stalk your exes. Remember what it felt like to be loved? Those hands are going to have to free to hold the spoon for the ice cream and grab another tissue for your crying eyes.

5. Make a sandwich. It’s good practice for when you eventually get into a relationship and your man is hungry.

6. Brush your teeth and floss. Pearly whites, fresh breath, and a lack of gum disease are going to help you land the next guy who is going to infuriate you.

7. Pick up a new hobby. Photography requires your eyes to look at something else besides your phone screen and you need your fingers to click the button. Make some of the stuff you’ve seen on Pinterest (you only have like 923 DIYs pinned). Whatever you do, don’t pick up knitting, you’re still young. I’m training to compete in the next Olympics. They’ll be held in New Orleans this fall. My sport is drinking and I’m going for the gold…tequila.

This is the Pinterest project I’ll be working on.

8. Write a blog post. Using those quick nibbled fingers to type something other than that lame excuse for a text message. Preferably something that’s thought-provoking and relevant to today’s society.

9. But seriously, focus on yourself instead of him. Your time is better spent on what you need, want, hope, and dream than wasting time wishing for a guy to text you. I finished reading the hilarious book, My Boyfriend Wrote a Book About Me, and she writes in the end that you can’t keep trying to find someone else to complete you – you have to realize that you are complete just as you are, on your own.

10. Oh that’s another thing you could do, read a book (I’m starting On the Road by Jack  Kerouac) instead of re-reading your previous texts hoping that you’re sarcasm, wittiness, and sexiness all came across in just 10 words.

Cheers to a new week and the hope that my cynicism is confined only to Monday.

Man Trapped in a Woman’s Body

It’s not as much as fun as you think it would be.

Lately, I’ve felt like a dude. It’s actually fairly difficult, because I don’t really subscribe to traditional gender roles. Women bringing home the bacon, making the first move, being on top, etc. Bring it on, women can handle it.

But as much as I would like to think that men respect this – surprise – they don’t.

Examples from my life as a single, strong-willed, and sometimes ballsy woman:

1. I have made it explicably clear to someone that all I want is a very causal relationship. What does he do? Acts like a boyfriend.

2. I make the terrible mistake of having the conversation with a man about numbers. He then tells me I really know how to make a guy feel special. Wait – I’m sorry, were you supposed to be special? Because making out on the street didn’t feel especially special.

3. (this is the only slightly positive outcome) I approach a man at a bar and hit on him, because it’s almost last call, someone bought me a shot, he was cute, and my friends can usually coerce me to do anything after 1:30 am if they tell me it will be funny. By the end of the conversation, he gave me a hug, said thank you, and told me it was cool that I approached him. Well…awesome?

Overall, most of these guys are just fleeting moments for me, I’m not looking for any stand outs or for someone to sweep me off my feet. I’ve been swept already and now I’m just hanging out. As much as guys say that’s what they want and that’s their idea of a ‘dream girl’, in my research I’ve found that they want just as much respect as any woman deserves. Basically, there is no winning. So I’ll just keep doin’ me while you keep doin’ your little pansy thing. Cheers.

Single Girl Style

*Warning: The majority of this blog post does not contain any real information, but expresses my frustrations on the subject.

Fairly recently, I became single for the first time since I was 15. Needless to say, back when I was ‘dating’, the style was totally different because it was 2006…and I was a sophomore in high school.

Now it’s a completely different ball game.

When I was in a relationship I wore what I liked wearing because I didn’t have to impress anyone but myself. Sure I wanted to look cute and garner a few compliments from my girlfriends, but hotness was never a real factor that I considered necessary when I was getting ready.

See that? I still can’t comprehend that. So this is my dilemma right now. What is single girl style? How do you pull it off without looking like a slut muffin? And how much do you have to sacrifice your personal style to impress guys?

Slut Muffin

There are a lot of slutty girls out there. Want to know how I know this? Because they dress like it. I understand that everyone has varying degrees of appropriateness and being single, that degree is fairly low. Sometimes when I go to a bar, I look around and I feel like I just ran into the girls from Jersey Shore and wonder, “How did they end up in Texas? Did they get lost on their way to Las Vegas?”

And I know that not everyone dresses exactly like that, but today in America the single girl uniform is fairly simple.

Single Girl Uniform

  1. Tight
  2. Short
  3. Low-cut
  4. Heels.

Simple and effective, but not right for everyone. The types of guys that are attracted to this are usually not type of guys you want to talk to. So what’s the right combination? So far this is the advice I’ve gathered from men, women, and magazines (which are written by women).

“Guys like simple.”

“Wear a big necklace it’ll draw attention to your cleavage.”

“Don’t look like you’re trying too hard.”

“Can you walk in 5 inch heels?”

“Look cute, but still sexy. But not too sexy, but enough so that they know you’re single.”

“Just wear something low-cut.”

“Why is everything you own so flowy?”

And that’s how I feel after hearing all the advice, reading different articles, buying new clothes, and trying to be something that I’m not. It’s a really strange feeling to be alone after being with someone for so long and it’s even more strange that I feel like I can’t dress like myself when I go out to meet people.

SGS (Single Girl Swag)

The most important thing to have when you go out, besides heels (which I will say, are a complete must and add to SGS), is single girl swag. It’s when you feel great in what you’re wearing so it translates to confidence, which is truly the sexiest thing a girl can have when she’s going out. If you are feeling good, it doesn’t really matter what you’re wearing, you will get some attention because of the energy you are giving off. So here are some of my tips for going out. I’m sure after this blog post you will take my advice, because obviously I know what I’m talking about.

Smile, brush your teeth.

Wear heels, it doesn’t matter what size heel because you will always feel sexier (and the oomph in the back doesn’t hurt either).

Wear something you feel comfortable in. Tugging at your shirt or pulling up your low-rise jeans isn’t sexy.

Don’t wear any rings on your ‘ring finger’, even if they are in no way like a wedding ring, guys apparently notice.

Wear tight jeans or a tight skirt.

Shave your legs.

Bring out lipstick, your phone, and a sense of humor. Don’t take the night too seriously.

Be your own damn self. Stop trying to dress for others or for the venue you’re going. Just do yo’ thang and rock the single girl swag.

Carrie Bradshaw and Holly Golightly, ultimate SGS.