In Which I’m Sappy About My Boyfriend

I have this habit of simultaneously being confessional and sappy. I apologize. Unless you like it, then I don’t apologize. (I’m a people pleaser.)

The boyfriend and I had a heart to heart last night. About a lot of things. For one, I was just frustrated with people–my family has been giving me shit; people on the internet have never ending amounts of shit coming out of their mouth; and I was just tired. One person I was having issues with on the internet was a person I really had come to care about who I felt misinterpreted some things I said and was judging me. It turned into a huge misunderstanding and one of those very uncomfortable conversations you have to have with people. Or you can delete those people–but I liked her!

As I talked to the boyfriend about it, he began to make too much sense–talking about how it’s normal for friends to have disagreements and it’s normal for you to go through stages where you like your friends and then you don’t, or you get irritated by them. I’m not good with “normal” usually, but he was making a hell of a lot of sense. So I apologized to said online friend. I realized he was right and that I definitely overreacted. It’s okay for someone to misinterpret something I said or even disagree with me. Phew.

And then he moved on to something far more difficult for me to handle. It wasn’t “pick on Lisa” night at all. We were just talking–we’ve become quite close and we talk every night before bed. But he started explaining to me how I pressure him about things–like transferring schools mid-degree and moving here (we’re long distance). Yeah, so here’s my confession: I pressure ALL the guys I date to commit within the first month. Don’t ask. I know it’s crazy/dumb/psycho. But you know, everyone has their hangups and I have one (million).

But this is what I like about the guy-instead of waiting 6 months and being fed up with it and then breaking up with me like the last few boyfriends, he’s getting straight down to business within a few weeks of the issue and communicating to me how it makes him feel. This shows me he’s a good communicator and he’s self-aware. But more than anything-that he really cares about me because he’s STILL here. It has definitely scared of plenty of guys before (and I often wonder, Would this be an issue if I were lesbian?) so it most certainly could’ve scared him off as well.

Today I’m thankful to have him in my life–he’s already helped make me a better person but more than all that, he’s teaching me how to be loved (and that is quite hard for me). Hopefully our “chapters” in our stories will continue on and on…I really like this one.

The Difference Between British Men and American Men

As I’m sure all women (and men) will agree, the British man’s accent is something charming. Looking past the popular, sexy accent though, is an individual who’s not just charming for the sake of being charming. He may not be particularly open immediately (the British like their privacy) but he isn’t convinced that he has to lie or exaggerate to impress you. And his humor. There’s an art to his sarcasm and dryness. It’s a well crafted line that he gives you, intended to make you laugh. The EM is incredibly witty, although it took me quite some time to understand his British references.

I’ve been struck very recently by the charm of an Englishman, and if any of you have had the pleasure of meeting one, I’m sure you’ll agree with me that they’re different from our American counterparts.

What’s so different? Isn’t a man just a man?

Despite our shared language, the difference between the American and the British way of life varies greatly. For starters, our slang is completely different. When my new Englishman, whom I shall call EM (brilliant, I know), used the word cunt a few months ago, I was floored. It must mean something quite different from our use of cunt here. So, I asked him. His explanation went as follows, “The C word in Britain [is] usually associated with people that jubilate in the inane or irrelevant (usually accompanied with undue self-importance). Stems from the crude reference to the female genetalia… Perhaps the last taboo insult.”

I had now not only cleared up that misunderstanding, but had also become completely infatuated with his choice of words in his description. We just don’t use words such as jubilate or inane in conversations here. I am an English major, and something like that can turn me on instantly. As Alycia Smith-Howard says it, getting to know an Englishman is, “A seduction of the mind.”

But if you do a quick Google search on the matter, you’ll find scant information online relating to relationships between American women and British men. Or, you’ll find plenty of American women insulting British men for their “stiff upper lip” and lack of asking out a woman, or footing the bill. Whereas British men call American women brash and loud and traditional. Here, Robert McCrum talks about his American wife and the dating differences between their two cultures:

These fine sentiments are meaningless, and faintly sinister, to your average American woman. They never go into darkened rooms with almost total strangers until and unless it has been thoroughly checked out by a real estate agent, a trusted girlfriend and, probably, an expert in feng shui. The only fluttered consciousness they’ll experience is if you cannot agree to split the bill, I mean ‘check’. And the idea that love might be a childish matter is almost heresy in the American bible of the heart.

We American women apparently treat first dates as job interviews. We have a mile long laundry list of do’s and don’ts for our future partner and we treat everyone as a future spouse waiting to be crossed off the list for wronging us on our first date. He didn’t pull out his wallet and pay? Cross him off! What’s his credit score? Does he have children? Religion? Check, check, check. The endless laundry list.

It wasn’t until recently (yesterday) that I realized dating customs vary so greatly. It’s common in the U.S. for girls to date or get to know several guys at once; whereas, in other countries, that’s considered rude or heartless. I had no idea. That was something I learned to do from the men here in America and just as I was supposed to accept their behavior, I guess I picked up that habit.

And of course there’s the tradition where American women (still) think men should do all the asking, and all the calling. This proves to be true all the way up our fame ladder, as proved by Gwenyth Paltrow saying that not one British man asked her out when she was on a trip in London.

”British people don’t seem to ask each other on dates,” she fretted. ”If someone asks you, they’re going out on a limb, whereas in America it happens all the time. Someone will come up to you and ask you for dinner and you’ll say, ‘Sure.’ It’s no big deal and no weight will be attached to it. It’s only dinner, for God’s sake.”

The same article goes on to insult English men in their entirety calling them incomprehensible drunkards  who spend too much time in the pub. Another article online quotes Canadian writer, Leah McLaren who calls them “repressed homosexuals…[who are] incapable of intimacy with a woman.”

Wow. It’s no wonder many English men don’t like us. We’re demanding and we misunderstand their culture. Not to mention, if we misunderstand their culture we jump to a negative (and brash) conclusion. Are we American women or are we sharks? (See Shark Week on the Discovery Channel).

As I’m sure all women (and men) will agree, the British man’s accent is something charming. Looking past the popular, sexy accent though, is an individual who’s not just charming for the sake of being charming. He may not be particularly open immediately (the British like their privacy) but he isn’t convinced that he has to lie or exaggerate to impress you. And his humor. There’s an art to his sarcasm and dryness. It’s a well crafted line that he gives you, intended to make you laugh. The EM is incredibly witty, although it took me quite some time to understand his British references. Here’s one for example:

Apparently the UK terror threat level has been reduced from ‘severe’ to only ‘substantial’, meaning there is now just “a stong possibility of a terrorist attack which may well occur without warning”. I feel so much safer knowing that.

And another commentary on the price of a train ticket:

£39 for a train ticket. If anyone sees Thomas The Tank Engine, remember to punch the smug cunt the face for me.

Once this American girl got the meaning of cunt, I had to admit to laughing out loud to each one of his jokes. They’re smart, funny and quite brilliant. Maybe I’m just biased.

Another difference between the American and British way of life? Without being too crude, the EM is different in his approach in talking about sex. It’s not, “Hey do you give blow jobs? How soon can you be over?” but “How about a cuddle on the couch and a glass of wine?” Something American men often lack is the ability to control how excited they are about sex. Once sex is mentioned, and American men know you have a vagina and some breasts, they turn into a cave man with a club thumping you over the head and dragging you back to their bed. When you wake up, you must serve them fellatio and then find your own ride home. With an Englishman, although he may be feeling the same cave man lack of control, he subdues it (at least to you) and romances you. But the romance isn’t over the top, like  the Prime Minister of Italy Silvio Berlusconi, who publicly announced that he’d run away with another woman if he wasn’t already married to Veronica Lario.

Berlusconi’s public statement in [apology] – “Forgive me, I beg you … I guard your dignity like a treasure within my heart … Accept this public apology as an act of love. One of many. A big kiss. Silvio” – would not have cut much mustard with me. Generally speaking, the more florid the declaration of love, the worse the bounder behind it. Besides, grovelling in public is hardly a punishment at all for a man who lives to be centre stage. [Quote and commentary from Jemina Lewis]

To her credit, Veronica Lario wrote that it was “damaging to her dignity as a woman,” and divorced him in 2009.

So, even if a relationship can’t develop overseas, I have to admit that getting to know the EM is quite different from the online stereotypes I’ve found about him. And it’s certainly a refreshing change from dating the American Mike, The Situation types who think, “…It’s not a matter of if she wants to hook up with me; it’s a matter of just when I decide.”

Logging off to watch BBC and Pride and Prejudice. xo

 

Update January 2013: Since the writing of this post, I’ve come to realize British men are very much like American men; they just hide it well at first.

Cross post from my other website. 

28 Things You Should Know Before Dating Me

I sometimes read the Thought Catalog. Their narratives are entertaining and the other day they had this list/post: 33 Things You Should Know Before Dating Me. While it may be a tiny bit late for me to write this (I recently went “Facebook Official” on my relationship), I love this list & had to borrow a few from them. Here’s my list:

1. I made it with a girl once. In a threesome.

2. No, I will not have a threesome with you. Ever.

3. I will offer to pay for my own part of the first date. Mostly because I want to be polite and also because I don’t care about who pays. And because I like nice things but I don’t expect you to always pay for them.

4. While I can be a total snob (I’m a book snob and I love art films. I even have a thing for really good music.) I love pop culture in a non-ironic way. If you do not, get over yourself, or we will never be compatible.

5. I live like a bachelor. I wouldn’t even mind if you’re great at cleaning, cooking and grocery shopping. I’m almost out of beer, by the way.

6. You will drive most of the time. I hate driving unless I’m completely alone and need to think.

7. I love sex. But there’s nothing better than cuddling.

8. I’ll write about you. Often. If we have amazing sex, you may become a featured character in my erotica. If you ever treat me like an asshole and we’re broken up, you will be completely humilated in something I write.

9. I can cook actually cook, clean and make tea like a Southern Belle. If you expect this, I’ll dump a hot plate of food on your crotch.

10. I am not a lady. Don’t ask me to be one. Don’t ask me to change.

11. I cry. A lot. Over movies, commercials, puppies. Over missing you.

12. Are you a cat hater? We can’t even be friends.

13. I judge the shit out of everyone. Always have. It’d be nice if you could join me.

14. Sitting on the beach is preferable to long walks. I tire easily and sand is annoying.

15. I drink to write sometimes which leads to less good writing than expected.

16. There are stretches of time where brushing my teeth is not a priority. Related, I am cool without a shower for at least 1.5 days.

17. If we become Facebook Official, you will have hundreds of eyes spying on you after the announcement is made. They’ll silently judge you/be jealous of you/wonder what I see in you because they think I’m a mini-goddess. I am not. I’m actually lucky to have you.

18. I have been known to get very jealous. I prefer to call it passion.

19. If we’ve drank too much, I will want to have very drunk, all-night sex with you. Try to keep up.

20. I am shit at lying. I can’t do it well, so expect complete honesty and full-disclosure. Painfully so.

21. I enjoy pornography about as much as most men. Maybe a bit more.

22. I will set up incredibly romantic dates and weekends, but if you could figure out how to follow my lead and set up dinner reservations and candle lit sex afterward on occassion, you’d be my hero.

23. Flowers and diamonds are incredibly thoughtful, but I am very picky. Let me pick out the big stuff, or at least ask what I like. Or go see Brenda.

24. There will be times I choose to be alone or isolate myself. I need time to think/write/create. I’m also irritable. I’ve never lived with a significant other and I expect it to be a complete disaster.

25. I suffer from depression. You may never understand this side of me, but just don’t be an asshole. I’m on top of my shit.

26. I’ve always wanted to be swept off my feet. If you can somehow manage to do this, you’ll have my heart.

27. I don’t trust easily, even though I pretend to.

28. Smart is sexy. If you can carry a conversation with me for hours on end, you’ll win me over.

Cry Me a River

I fell in love with my best friend and last year around October we finally started sleeping together. It was all amazing and I really thought we were going to be a serious thing, but that didn’t happen. Unfortunately you can’t control someone’s demons or someones ability to love you (or stay in love with their ex, which was his case). I held on so long because we’re still friends and I can tell he still likes me, but the funny thing is whenever I want to hang out, he won’t and then when I ask him if he likes me he won’t even say he does. Not once. Ever. We haven’t even seen each other for most of the year and I still held on hope. Lame, I know. Trust me, everyone told me I was but your heart wants what it wants and doesn’t let it go until it’s ready.

Some people have excuses for everything. I think, if you like someone, you should tell them and you should go for it and see where it takes you. You can’t sit around and wait until you’re perfect or life is just going to pass you by. When I felt like the time was right last year, I told him I liked him and I went for it. We’d had a lot of history together and I thought it was something that he wanted, too. To be honest, I don’t know if I was just delusional about it the whole time or if he really did fall in love with me. One minute he’d be into me and the next minute he’d be drunk and talking about how much his ex-wife hurt him. Normally, I would take that as a really bad sign, but you have to understand that we talk to each other about everything, every single day. I respect him a lot and went to him for advice about the biggest things and the littlest things. It would’ve been perfect, but it was far from it. And I’m surely not going to get into all the ways it wasn’t perfect because that would take all night and make me look bad for staying in love so long.

I was pretty messed up all year trying to forget about him. I snubbed a lot of good guys because I just couldn’t be true to someone new if I wasn’t over him. That’s no way to treat someone great. I can usually get over someone pretty easy if I need to, but this one was harder than usual. I gave him so many warnings, “I’m going to start dating other guys.” (Why warn someone? Why not just do it?) He knew I was full of hot air and that I still loved him. I knew it, too, because I didn’t date a single, goddamn person all year even though I could have.

But that shit’s changing. I’ve tried to move on all year and a few months ago I felt like I was ready…or coming close to it. Now I’m over it–excuses, waiting, pretending like someone’s going to get better. They’re not.  I kept trying to get over him and move on, but wasn’t ready. Lately, though, I noticed I feel way more interested in dating and I’m going with it. Fuck that waiting around shit. I’m not really sure what I’m “going” for, exactly. Nothing specifically. I’m just enjoying the fact that I’ve put that behind me. Not that I would complain if someone wanted to romance me a little bit and move in (slowly) for something more serious.

The “List”

I know I’ve written about the shitty “list” that they made us write in church back in the day. In case you forgot, our pastor’s wife suggested we write a list of the ideal husband and pin it to our wall and pray over it. That’s so ’50s. At seventeen (and even again at eighteen), my list was absurd. I have it and I’m sure as hell not going to share it here. But let’s just say it was ridiculous. (I will say that I was dumb enough to put “he must love chocolate” on the list. What the ever loving fuck? lol) Even worse, since I didn’t have as much experience dating anyone, I was totally unreasonable in my list. Once you have a few real relationships under your belt you realize that some expectations are just absurd, and some traits are ‘nice to have’ but no one is a robot. You might get what you want and you might just fall in love with someone totally different than you expected to. No big deal.

I’m bringing the list back up though, because the other day my NOT-’50s friend S. said she just made a list of her ideal girlfriend. To be fair, she’s neither a pastor’s wife or really a religious person. Just a cool girl who was having some retrospective moments following a breakup with a girl who wasn’t really a good match for her. When she talked about some of the things her ex-girlfriend said to her over the breakup, I was pretty mad. So, for her, I’m a fan of the list for her.

I don’t really have a list but I started talking to her about things I like in dudes. I prefer to think of it less like a list and more like  ‘lessons I’ve learned along the way and why some guys just don’t do it for me’. Ha! Like the too-young guy. I’ve dated him before (quite a few times, actually!) and most of the too-young guys weren’t ready for any kind of serious relationship yet. They were still playing video games…over and over and over. Or living at home, or didn’t have a job. These aren’t really things some guys get over, though, so I’ve learned it’s not always about age. But there comes a point in a woman’s life when she has to date a man, otherwise the relationship is a lot like caring for a puppy. Mostly, I’ve just learned it’s best to spend a lot of time getting to know someone before getting too committed, no matter how old they are.

When I was younger I HAD to date a Christian guy. Just had to. Or I’d…die? I don’t know what the threat was there. I think it helps if people have similar values and morals, but they don’t have to be the same religion for that to happen. After I became atheist, I thought I only had to date atheist and agnostic guys, but then I dated atheist and agnostic guys. We had a lot in common and a lot to talk about, but I’m much more complex than just my lack of beliefs and experiences in church. At some point this year, I got over my anger and anxiety about uber-religious people and realized that there were some very cool, laid back Christian guys I could date. I almost hate to admit it, but some of the Christian guys I dated were actually some of the most romantic, most caring guys I’d dated. (On the other hand, some of them were the biggest jerks…so it goes to show you that being an asshole isn’t just reserved for certain religions or lack thereof.)

Politics are another thing I’ve kind of been adamant about but now I’m more flexible. I was really into politics for about two years there, but I spent most of my life as a moderate. I enjoy life around moderates much more than around extremists when it comes to politics. Mostly because you can’t get a word in edgewise when someone is very political and they think they’re right…all the damn time. I hold fast to the idea that you’re allowed to change your mind when you get new information and I feel like political views should be a lot more flexible than they are.

I wish I could say I’m the kind of girl who has a specific type, but I really don’t. Sometimes I’ve dated really insecure guys and they freak out and question me. DON’T YOU HAVE A ‘TYPE’, WOMAN? I KNOW I’M NOT IT! To me, it’s less about a type and more about the person: how much they love you, how much they respect you, how much they challenge you to be a better person, how much you trust them and mostly how they treat you.

To be honest, I’ve fallen hardest for friends and that’s why I think developing a really deep connection via friendship is much more important than passion or sex. There’s something incredibly intoxicating about becoming so close to someone, and knowing they are an incredibly authentic person in every way possible, and then one day just waking up to find out you love them. It doesn’t happen all the time and to be honest, it’s also as scary as it is intoxicating. After all, they know your flaws and insecurities and your biggest fears, so if anyone could judge you or use that against you, they could. But because you both care about each other, you know they’ll support you instead of tear you down and you know they understand you well enough to believe the best of you.

So, the specifics? Race? Don’t care. Height? Don’t care. Hair? Who cares? Weight? I like it all. Buff guys are usually assholes, though, so I try not to get too attached there. Sorry. I’m more of the kind of person who falls in love with someone’s personality first and I actually think chubby guys are really hot.

Probably my only real criteria is that I’m challenged intellectually by the person. That doesn’t mean he’s smarter than me–maybe smarter in different ways, or maybe not. But someone who makes me think and encourages me to learn. I’m invigorated by learning new things, the more complex the better. Whether it’s philosophy or coding, I just find intellectualism very hot. Very. Hot. Very.

Do you have a ‘list’? Share it with me below or email me. I’d love to hear your take on this subject. Or, if you’re boring and married (JK), did you have a list? Or did you just know?

What are the rules when it comes to dating single parents?

 

Image credit: Babble.com
Image credit: Babble.com

I recently found a blog named Geek in the Wilderness when I was searching for comparative reports about Squarespace versus WordPress. I use Squarespace for a portfolio but I’d wondered how good they were on SEO. WordPress typically ranks at the top and Squarespace has claims that it’s comparable to WordPress. It better be for the price tag but I wasn’t convinced based on my recent site transfer.

Geek in the Wilderness happens to be Frank Swift, a Christian, who also writes about dating and whatnot. Like me, only male…and Christian. I stumbled upon his post “Why I would never date single moms” and laughed. That sounded like something I’d said a year or two ago. Nothing against single dads, but that baby momma drama is out of control. I have no interest in dealing with a jealous woman who’s trying to make our lives difficult. The fact that someone had sex with someone else or had a kid with someone else really didn’t bother me. I like kids and I think I’d be a fine stepparent. I was raised with a stepparent and we turned out fine.

What was funny–from an observer’s point of view–was the amount of women who responded. Heyyy, Ladies. Frank got 123 responses and not all of those women were happy. To me, it seemed like some single moms were sorely disappointed in Frank for not widening his dating pool to include them. It’s not really their choice, is it. One woman was particularly upset. I felt like it was her way of pouting: Here I am, choosing the Holy Calling of wife and mother and some man has the NERVE to say no! How dare he. Or at least that’s my interpretation of this stranger:

…[Ju]st had to pitch in because Frank Swift eventually decided to claim that he is a Christian…shocker with the lack of Love and empathy for what a surge of negative emotions one may experience reading his insight into the dynamics and “frankly” slim chances he reckons they have on the market. I weep for you because after all you experienced as a child and even saw your mother experience, one would think your main prayer for all is that, no matter what occurs in their lives, they have a chance to lead joyous, tranquil and Love – filled lives, alone, in homogenous or blended families, for the glory of God…mm…It has been interesting to get a glimpse of society’s perspectives on a very concerning state of affairs. Im saddened for all who have to go it alone and inspired by their strength to bring up the “sprogs” single handendly while trying to stay sane against all odds….Hats off to those who can meet their life partners in this day and age and keep at it, that has always been something worth commending. As for the guy in the wilderness, God fill you with His love so that even when yiu are making the right points, you be much kinder. There are vulnerable people out there who could do with less self-esteem knocking +just as you wouldn’t have wanted your mummy to get back in the day). (Read more here…)

Jessica comments:

You have no intelligence and sound like a small minded little prick! Good luck finding any women that would touch YOU with a 12 foot pole..you will probably end up living with ur mum for the rest of your life….get a grip

Another comment:

You know guys? You’re so selfish! The little HOPE for (us) those who’s single moms you’ve taken!! After reading this and comments. I feel i should go back to my ex even theres a lot of tears than joy. it feels NO one would love me and my son like the love my EX does!!

I’m not saying I entirely agree with Frank, although I agree with more of his points than not. He’s a bit sexist and that probably comes from his faith. He also doesn’t take the “bull by the horns” so to speak. He just says “Well, I’m not opposed to what God might bring” instead of sticking to his guns. I also love kids and kids love me, so I have no doubt that if I met a single dad, his kids would love me. I also think it’s admirable for a man to take his kids. It goes against societal norms. I respect that.


Mr. Beer - Makes A Great Gift!

What I am saying is there was a point in my early twenties (and even until I was 29) where I swore off dating someone who had kids 0r was married before. Like Frank, I couldn’t see myself getting serious with someone who had “baggage” and the one time I dated someone who was previously married (and had a kid), he proved that I was right. He was a dick. I do think my Christian beliefs highlighted the issue even more than it should have been, though. Had I not been a Christian for most of my twenties, I probably wouldn’t have cared as much on the technicality of having been married before. In the Christian world being married is the ultimate goal, so is having kids. But if someone has kids or is divorced and wants to remarry, it’s a cardinal sin. No Christian wants to date you. It’s a whole big hypocritical mess.

I’ve met single dads that I really like since I’ve gotten older. I’ve also met single dads who were douchebags. I’ve met men were divorced and still in love with their ex-wives or at the very least talked about her every single goddamn day. No one wants to be with someone who can’t forget another woman. If someone can’t say goodbye to their ex’s then they aren’t ready to date someone new.

Some of the women on Frank’s blog did have good points, though: it’s hard to meet people who are healthy and stable and even harder to meet people who share the same standards as you do. But for what it’s worth, being alone because you’re choosy isn’t a bad thing. Settling for someone who will make you miserable is a bad thing.

Love Lessons for Girls: The You-Went-Crazy Version

#1: If he cheat on you or beat you once, he’s gonna do it again. And then he’ll say…

bs tumblr

And again.

game

#2: If he won’t LET you make your relationship Facebook official, he’s sleeping with someone else. Or going to murder you. Let’s hope it’s option a.

status update

 

#3: If you’ve met him one time and move states away to be with him, we all totally think it’s going to last. Totally. We’re here for you, girl.

thumbs up

#4: If you make it out alive, your ex-boyfriend totally won’t take you back. He knows your level of crazy has reached level zeta and the only next level he wants to make it on is in Bioshock Infinite.

bioschock

#5: We’re laughing at you, not with you. But in a totally supportive way.

bey

#6: Your cat loves you more than he does.

grumpy

That Awkward Moment When I Realize I AM the Overly Attached Girlfriend

You’ve heard of the overly attached girlfriend meme, right? No? What do you do with your free time (ahem, not Internet, apparently)?!

Over the course of the past year, I’ve realized I may lean more toward the overly attached girlfriend than the “normal” girlfriend. I’ve had two people dump me in the past year by saying something along the lines of, “You talk about marriage and babies way too soon.” AKA, EVER! Men just can’t deal with commitment or marriage/babies talk.

I’m not quite this bad:

 

 

 

 

 

But I have done stuff like this (maybe last week):

 

 

 

 

Last week was when I realized I was way too overly attached INSTANTLY. It happened when I started dating (aka went on one date and then he was over it) a really short guy, who on the first date, told me he wanted to have kids within the next five years (So? What’s your point? I thought. If you’d taken me to the Holiday Inn, I could’ve done something about that, but I’m eating a salad now.) Later that weekend, I told my friend and her husband that he said this over lunch and my friends husbands eyes got so big from surprise. Mental note: apparently that’s weird. (But I didn’t quite think so, because I’d have done the same thing)

I suppose I didn’t think it was weird because I’m worse. If I’m not engaged by week three, I start the crazy, obsessive girl diatribe.

What? You don’t LOVE me? I say.

If you really loved me, you would want to be with me forever–like Mormons do.  

Ugh, I just want to settle down. My cats need a father. It’s what they’ve been MISSING in life.

I’m crazy and no one LOVESSSSSS me.

I carry on like this for a few months or until they dump me. It’s true. Men just can’t handle this–not even short, gamer nerds who are just as bad.

The truth is, therapy is fucking expensive. I know I have daddy issues, being raised with an alcoholic issues, abandonment issues, and dozens more. I know I do, although the revelation has just become apparently. Did I mention therapy is expensive? Several hundred dollars a month!

I also have…committment issues. (See? I can’t even commit to a full sentence. I have to use ellipses.) When I was young, my mom and stepdad fought so long and often that they were constantly on the verge of getting a divorce. I think I was traumatized, so I’ve never been able to commit. It’s weird–I want to be in a relationship for the companionship but I have rarely been able to picture my life with any of the guys I’ve dated. In fact, at this point in my life I don’t want to be married and I certainly won’t do so without a pre-nup.

Recently, my parents decided to officially split up. It’s been a really rough past few months, and I’m not sure why but it really hit me hard. My initial reaction was, Damn, I definitely don’t want to get married now. Now it’s more like, I’m 31 and have never been married and now I’ve got so many issues I’m going to end up alone. People keep saying, “Oh, well at least you’re older. It won’t affect you.” But the truth is, I’m incredibly sensitive and it does affect me. I mean, my family is falling apart.

I’m way too honest on the Internet.  And in real life. And on first dates.

I also sleep with people on the first date (usually, except not with ugly people). I know society has this rule that most people follow and I had an asshole friend tell me that this short dude probably dumped me because I slept with him on the first date and he thought I was a floozy, but you know what? I don’t care. I am not interested in playing games. If I like someone, and I want to sleep with them, then I will. And then I’ll cry if they don’t fall in love with me immediately.

 

This weekend, I watched Young Adult with Charlize Theron. And then I wanted to  kill myself because Mavis, the main character, really reminded me of myself. She’s got the perfect life in every way possible with the exception of her love life. She’s also always unhappy and suffers from depression (although, aren’t those two things often interconnected? being unhappy and depressed?). She’s essentially a train wreck and a bit lot like me. So she goes back to her hometown to look up her ex boyfriend and try to get back together with him, because, of course, he must love her and want to be with her.

Not that I’ve done this recently. Ahem. Okay, I can’t lie. I’ve looked up an ex boyfriend recently. Whatever.

My point is, I can’t tell what’s wrong with me anymore. I’m sick of everything and everyone, and I can’t tell if I’m actually fucked up or if I’m just doing the depressed thing where I feel guilty about everything and can’t be nice to myself. If you’ve ever read William Styron’s book Darkness Visible, he’s got a great line in there about how depression is about self-hatred. This is more true than you’ll ever know.

I don’t really know how to “fix” this whole overly attached thing, and I think to compound issues I don’t think I’m meeting the right guys anymore. I keep doing that pet project thing, where I date people who are fucked up in some way and I want to help them. I don’t know if I realized I was doing that until I met a dude like me (ambitious, has their shit together, etc) and I was really attracted to this person. Attracted to them in such a way that felt right and felt like I would be comfortable being myself around them and not wondering if my opinions or success would offend them. That was a nice feeling. (Damn, I really have been settling.)

My family has been trying to tell me for years that I’ve been dating beneath what I should be and that I’ve been settling. Of course I ignored them. What do they know? I think I’ve inadvertently been dating ugly dudes or unsuccessful dudes thinking…and this sounds terrible…that they won’t leave me because they’ll never find anything better. Too honest? Oh well. I was proved wrong years ago, when I dated someone so embarrassingly ugly and he cheated on me with his ex-girlfriend. Even ugly people can be assholes.

So, I’ve written this blog post with you in mind. To those of you who know that EVERYTHING in my life is going stellar: I have a fucking fantastic job, some TV shit going on, a book that’s been requested by some great publishers, and I live in one of the most amazing areas of Southern California. And just to brag for a second: everything I put my mind to doing, gets done (and done well). I’m on a bit of a professional high–shit is coming together in ways I never thought it would. But, I wanted to let you know that even with a near-perfect life, one thing hasn’t ever been perfect–my love life. And I seriously doubt it ever will. So, when I’m sitting on the beach drinking a beer or talking to my agent about future projects and you’re stuck with crying children or a smelly husband, just remember this post. And take joy in the fact that even when I’m rich and famous, I’ll still be alone…

Except for the hot sex I’m having with my boy toy.