Thursday, February 19, 2009

Q: Am I Impossible? A: Yes.

Well I have decided that I am in fact an impossible person. As most girls do, I frequently question the value of actually including the opposite sex in my life in any way, shape, or form. After a clean but messy break with my last 'official' relationship, I enjoyed being single for a while. I think I enjoyed it so much because I wasn't looking for anything; I was super busy and working a ton and I loved it. I just let guys fit into my life whenever I felt like it. I've recently although secretly prided myself on not being one of those people who let other people dick them around. Especially in terms of relationships and 'love', people allow themselves to become so absorbed and fully invested in another person and their lives that they lose sight of their own self-worth. It makes me sad while simultaneously making me want to slap them around and say, "Uh, excuse me...if they don't respect you, say BYE." Maybe that's harsh, but I've experienced both sides of this: if you let someone treat you like crap once they know they can do it again. And again. And again...and, yes, again. If you just accept this behavior then you're telling that person that they can do whatever they want and treat you however they please and you're still going to be there at the end of all of it. That's not right. I'm not saying that at the first sign of neglect or disrespect you have to immediately stop all communication and write them off. But you definitely need to stand up for yourself and say something about it. If you explain that this is unacceptable, you only get one strike and then they do it to you again then that should be it. In my opinion, of course. I know it's never as easy as that, but I think that sometimes people don't acknowledge the due respect a person deserves, and that's not cool. It's up to the person being treated like shit to demand the aforementioned respect and if they don't get it, to remove themselves from the situation. Okay, that was me going off on a total tangent, so I even switched colors slightly. Anyways.
Back to why I'm impossible. So I spent all this time sorting out how I feel about the single life (mostly sunny with scattered preciptation) only to realize that sometime it is nice to have someone around. I'm not sure if I got fed up with being technically alone or if I had simply had enough of lame pick up attempts. I'm not snotty or prudish; if a nice/cute/funny/interesting guy asks for my number I will give him the right number (and maybe pick up when he calls...). But I don't even really have to worry about picking up his calls! Why, you ask? Well it's because modern technology has allowed guys to do almost everything except call. Text message, IM, write on my facebook wall, facebook message, facebook CHAT. GAG. This is not the way to impresse ladies, my friends. A lot of girl will take some kind of pride in being high matienence and making guys jump through hoops. I am not one of these girls. I just don't understand why it's that difficult to pick up the phone and arrange an organized event which you and the lady of your choosing will attend, hopefully, together.
So that all being said, I spent a decent amount of time bitching to friends about how guys are so lame because they can't gather their balls and call me. And then, months and months later, I meet a guy the way I'd meet any guy ( a bar. hold your judgement plzkthnx). He comes up and talks to me, he's nice, he buys me a drink and acts smooth (read: drunk). We chat, it's nice but whatever, and before I leave he asks for my phone number. He immediately texts me to be sure he's got the right one. Slick. Good call, because seven out of ten guys don't get the chance to call me out on giving them a fake number because they wait til they're home to test it. He didn't seem like a serial killer or raper of any sort so I saved myself the sheepish embarrassment that would be getting caught in such a situation. Anyways, the next day he calls me. We chat it up and he asks if I want to go out the next night. I said 'sure' and we did the damn thing a la kicking it old school. We've been on three dates since. It's all fine and dandy or whatever, I mean, I like him. I'm not obsessed with him to any extent nor do I plan to be. But NOW he's CALLING me....all the time. Just to chat, to say hey, to see what I'm doing while I'm doing it. He texts me at nighttime because a movie reminded him of me, or because he's excited about our next date and he just has to tell me that. Am I getting a tone yet, because I feel like this might be reading a little snarky. Whatever, the point is, I am impossible. I'm 'so over' guys my age because of their lack of grandiosity and formalism when it comes to dating but when an older (not THAT much older) man wants to squire me around and actually, you know, formulate some kind of something with me, I'm all "Oh NO, I'm not even trying to do that!"
It's pretty stupid of me, but I can't help it. I don't like having someone keep tabs on me like that. I don't want to explain where I'm going and with who and what I'm doing or what I'm thinking about. I'm not sure if it's just him that I don't want to answer to, or if it's anyone at all. Either way, I'm pretty sure that this thing is gonna get old, like, yesterday. To make the point circular, I'm impossible.

Monday, February 9, 2009

I went on a really great date the other night. Of course I say that completely biasedly because 1) I had fun and 2) I've never been on an actual date before. I know, shock. People use the term 'dating' to mean that two people are in a relationship, not going on dates. So that being said, 'dating' is not part of the college thing. At least my college thing. It's kind of just not done. So to finally experience the pants-shitting clusterfuck of nerves that is going on a real date, I had to move outside the college sphere. I was super nervous. I'm surprised because clearly I'm the essense of cool. Not really, no, not even at all but I don't get nervous to meet people. I don't really think about it or worry about interactions with other human beings. Normally that's something that I feel pretty much at ease with. This was the first time in my whole life that I can remember being genuinely out-of-control nervous. I ended up eating about 40 pounds worth of Necco Conversation Sweethearts (which really only spiked my blood pressure I'm sure) and chain smoking like a fiend before I realized that unless some kind of fortunous natural disaster struck within the next few hours, I was going on this date. I was going. So I laid my choices out for myself (it's pretty desolate when MK's not home) since no one else was going to do it: I could either prove myself to be a legitimate fucktard and let my nerves get the best of me or I could swallow it (no pun wait pun fully intended) and just act natch. I ended up acting natch and we had a really excellent time. I have no idea why I was so nervous other than I guess I was stressing about making a good impression. That's such a moronic way to handle being worried about making a good impression: to work yourself up until you're disfunctioning like a car running on ginger ale. But it worked out for me in the end.
We went to this really cute restaurant in Little Italy and I realized that it was going to be fun when I noticed he kind of picked up on my sense of humor. We walked into a place neither of us had been before and put out name on the waiting list (it was 15 minutes, he was impatient) and then left. He joked that we should just put our name on every waitlist in Little Italy and then go eat at Taco Bell but that didn't happen because the second place we went to just sat us right away. He was totally smooth about the whole thing and ordered a bottle of wine (sparkling red) and then proceeded to be only mildly pretenious but fully charming as he swirled and sniffed the tester-amount of wine. He laughed when I asked if I could have a straw with mine but the waitress did not, which led to my surprise when she completely ignored my request. Whatever, I was only half serious anyway. He did most of the talking only because I was trying really hard not to spill anything on myself and also totally distracted by the upbeat 60's jams that were playing in this place. He seemed pretty interested in everything I had to say which I must admit was flattering. We talked about nothing really but somehow it felt like we were getting to know each other. I guess that would be the point of going on a date but what the hell do I know about dating? It was kind of nice. Okay, it was really nice.
This is where I would usually stop myself because I feel like I'm going into mush-mode and no one really likes to hear about that unless it's happening to them. Well, this being my blog I think I can go ahead and carry on. We left the restaurant and he held my hand like it was totally natch (it kind of was) and opened my car door and everything. I feel like this kind of stuff is not fair to me because I've never seen even this sort of basic chivalry. I have to admit I was a little taken with the grandiosity of being picked up by a man older than me in a car that doesn't make any kind of suspicious sounds, treated to dinner, and then treated ...nicely? Is that how I put it? I don't really know. But it became more and more apparent as the night went on that he did actually appreciate a sense of humor and uniqueness, which is what he said I had. He liked that I couldn't help but make fun of him when he tripped over the curb (definitely not a big trip, just a stutter) and he dished it back at me, which was funny.
This is where things got confusing to me. We were having a really good time, and it felt like hanging out with a friend but there was obviously more to it than friends. It was only ten o clock when we were done with dinner so we went to my apartment. We had a few beers and he asked me if I had the movie Anchorman which put him on my "hell yes" list indefinitely. We watched it and even though I've seen that movie at least 75 times (not an exaggeration) I laughed out loud at all my favorite parts and he laughed when I laughed and I was thinking to myself the whole time, "Is it supposed to be this easy?" Where were all the awkward conversation stalls and feeble joke attempts that got lost in translation? Where was the saying something that I didn't know was going to offend him and the deal-breaker revelation? There wasn't one, and I was being myself to the fullest and I can only hope he was too. Then things got really interesting, and I'm sorry in advance if you're still reading this.
So we're watching the movie and drinking for no real reason when we start discussing the fact that he misses college (he's a few years out). I'm going on about how it's nothing that special and of course the discussion turned to beer pong. I really have no idea why that happened since it's really not a romantic or especially becoming topic or activity but that's where it went. I mentioned in jest that we had a beer pong table and he gave me a sideways look that said "no way is this girl going to bust out her beer pong table right now.." but I did. He was totally on board for reasons I may never know and we played one-on-one beer pong in the middle of my living room to make this possibly the most bizzare/unorthodox/casually unique first date in the history of dates. We talked to shit to each other and I kicked his ass. It was more fun than it should have been but we just went with it.
We got to talking and he asked me questions about myself and pretty much made it his life's work to compliment me in a way that didn't make me blush (he was unfathomably successful) but also didn't make me feel like he was just saying it. That, my friends, is where I get nervous. I like being told nice things about myself just as much as everybody, but when I really start believing them I get kind of freaked out. This was our first date, for God's sake! Why was he looking at my books (clearly surprised to find out I could read) and asking if he could read some of the stuff I've written and going through my high school yearbook like it was interesting?! If this was all a ploy to get me to sleep with him it really would have just taken another bottle of wine. That's when I got nervous, when I started believing the things he was saying. I don't really feel it's neccessary to go out of my way to blow smoke up someone's ass and pad their ego, so I never really expect people to do that to me. But someone has done that to me, and it really fucking sucked when I found out it was all talk. Now I'm all paranoid that this was just a big scam and I'm torn between being self-defensive and calling it out and being unfair to him because he really meant everything he said.
He also made it very, very clear that our date was far and away the best first date he's ever been on. I didn't hesitate to tell him that 'hey! this is the best first date I've ever been on too!' because it was the only one. But he's quite a bit older than me and he claims it's the best of many. I know that I use humor for a myriad of things and defense mechanism is certainly on the list. So if this mutally incredible first date turns into nothing you can be sure I'll be the first to make a joke connecting the sudden lack of interest in me to the ever-failing economy, but I'll be honest and say that I'll be disappointed.
So I guess what this comes down to is that probably I put way too much on the table on this first date. He did too, we kind of got to talking about a lot of stuff. It's not like I was trying to be mysterious or secretive at all, but I realized that when I'm not holding back as much as I normally do, I become really vulnerable. I know this is probably sparking a ton of "duhs" but letting my personality go completely uninhibited isn't something I do with someone I just met. What's more bewildering is the fact that this Tessa-unhinged-and-unfettered approach to getting to know someone was received very well. I know it must sound like I'm shocked that someone is apparently geniunely interested in "the real me" (gag, did I just say that?) but I'm not being like that to be self-deprecating. I'm just surprisedly pleasantly and impressed thoroughly. So we're going out again this week, and I guess I'll have to play it off the cuff. I would say 'and take it slow' but sorry people, it's way too late for that.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

I started a blog, ew.

How the hell did I end up with a BLOG? I mean I enjoy scribbling shit and doodling in my Lisa Frank technicolor puppies notebook, but I can hide that biznatch under anything; this is pretty public. Whatever, I think I have adolescent-onset carpel tunnel anyway so writing with a pen is just out of the question. Typing should be too but at least it's quicker. So, now that I have this blog do I have some kind of assignment to do or something? Are there some kind of guidelines I need to follow or can I just wax about whatever I want (8:14 am: ate 3 grapes. 8:15 am: plagued by grape guilt. 8:15;21: began 4 hour cardio session)? I guess I'll just wing it until I get bought and sold on the human trafficking market by some seriously PO'ed google exec, whatever.
Speaking of whatever, I'm starting to think that people my age are way closed-minded when it comes to current events. I know that watching the news can be about as fun as using your bare hands as a collander, but I think that we can do a little better. Maybe pick up a newpaper? Yeah, no longer should newspapers be used to paper your little brother's bed, make cool hats out of, or cut letters out of to make an untraceable message/puzzle to your ex-girlfriend. I went to the library at school the other day and asked the librarian if I could buy a newspaper there. He confusedly pointed me to the rack where they put the newspaper out by section on those annoying wooden sticks. He did not understand that I wanted to buy a paper and take it with me to read. He was also pretty much full-blown Indian so I'm not sure if my request was lost in translation, but don't you need a Master's to be a librarian anyway? Whatever. The point I'm making is that no one really seems to care about anything that's happening outside of their own sphere of influence. I'm definitely not fully on top of anything that's going on (so not), but at least I make an effort to read some articles and admit that it's mildly shameful that I'm ill informed. I picked up an issue of Vanity Fair not that long ago (to drool over things I couldn't afford even if I sold half of my vital organs) and was pleasantly surprised to see that 1) Kate Winslet was on the cover. What the shit, she is fabulous. 2) There was a free Clinque lotion sample somewhere in there. and 3) There were a TON of legit articles. Not just "How to Legally Stalk Your Work Crush" or "To Pluck, or not to Pluck?". There was a list of 100 Influencial People and it was so interesting, some of the people were foreign princes, some were internet moguls, some were actors. Even though I thought I was buying a fashion mag (it still had clothes and stuff in it) I got all this information that I never even knew existed before then. I don't remember everything I read, but the point is that I read. I know other people my age who read, stay informed, and have opinions based on more than just what MTV News tells them (if that, yikes). But I know a ton more people who not only know nothing about the world that they live in, but who also have absolutely no interest in learning. Doesn't that make you feel stupid when you're at Starbucks waiting for your [triple grande nonfat extra caramel caramel macchioto, thanks] and someone leans over to you idly making conversation and says, "Huh. How 'bout those Blagojevich tapes?" and you respond, "Oh, I'm not really into Russian music." I'm not saying I'm the ideal current events afficionado, but I wish that I were. I think that everyone could do well to stay open minded about things happening outside their bubble.
This has absolutely turned to rambling, but whatever; I often hear people at school say stuff like, "who READS?" like they're asking "who PICKS THEIR NOSE AND EATS IT?" and I just want to staple little notes to their foreheads that say "out of order". Kindly stop harrassing me for being interested in stuff other than beer pong, text messaging, and the acclaimed musical stylings of Lil Wayne. Don't get me wrong, 2/3 of those things are fine (Weezy baby, not so much) but there's more to life than these things. It's okay to have diverse interests and be multi-dimensional (just like my boxed hair color promises). I think my favorite thing is when I meet someone who's ya know, nice and whatever but then they somehow let it slip that they enjoy [insert anything unobvious here] and they're totally passionate about it. Even if it's something that I would find boring (bird watching), or strange (exorcism) or unheardof (GOLF!?) it's so refreshing and inspirational to see someone with a passion. Damn, why is that so uncommon? I personally love writing and (I know this sounds blase) movies. I love everything about movies, all the actors, the directors, the soundtracks, the camera angles. I find few things more exciting than going to see a movie, however one of those few things I enjoy more is going to see a movie when it only costs 50 cents because I'm frugal as whoa...not the point. I don't know if it's possible to be passionate about movies, but I'm passionately/maniacally in love with Shia LaBoef, so whatever. So bottom line is that people need to watch more Shia LaBoef movies. Oh wait, no that's not the bottom line. The bottom line is bird watching is boring, and golf is really, really, REALLY boring. Shit, no, that's not it either. Okay well you can determine the bottom line and submit it to me at the end of the period. No homework passes.