What's the Point of a Relationship? More Importantly, What's the Point of This One?

Gosh, the past few posts have primarily been all about bashing Mr. Curls. It's enough to make one wonder why I haven't drop-kicked him out the door already. I mean, heck, it almost seems like I don't even like him at all. It's not that I don't like him, it's just that I'm worried. The worry has made me do a lot of thinking about my relationship priorities. Lately, between seeing my friend get hitched, traveling both with and without him, and talking to different people who're in relationships, I've spent a lot of time thinking about the nature of relationships. I mean, seriously, why are people in them?

Aside from a regular sex partner and somebody to hang out with, what's the point of romantic relationships? The hardest part is that there's no one set answer. I feel like a kid who's stumped on a quiz question and frustrated because each of the multiple choice answers feels like it could be right, but I have to pick which one's the best answer. I feel cheated like someone who's asked a riddle then denied the answer. The worst part is knowing that, ultimately, no one has it. Knowing that everyone's got to figure it out for themselves.

So, I've been trying to figure out what the point of me being in a romantic relationship is. What the heck do I want to be in a relationship for? I support myself, so it's not that I'm looking for a sugar daddy. I have a wonderful group of lovely friends, so it's not that I'm just lonely. I'm a stubbornly independent person, so I don't need some other person to define who I am. I've got vibrators, so I can manage plenty of orgasms without help. I have a dog, so it's not like I'm just looking for someone to make me feel safe or wanted.

It's easy to figure out reasons why a relationship might be more trouble than it's worth. It's harder to figure out reasons why one would be worthwhile.

1. I want someone to hold me
2. I want that someone to be the same someone who understands who I am
3. I want to be someone's favorite someone
4. I want to have a person in my life who chooses to become my family
5. I want laughter. Lots of laughter
6. I want to have someone in my life whose hug can make a crappy day brighten
7. I want someone to cheer me on
8. I want inside jokes that only the two of us laugh at
9. I want to know someone's got my back
10. I want someone who, by being in my life, makes my life better
11. I want to have someone I know I can trust
12. I want to feel like having this person pick me over all others means I'm amazing and special
13. I want love
14. I want loyalty
15. I want a certain kind of fierceness
16. I want the sound of a heartbeat beneath my cheek
17. I want to be amazed at how this person was a stranger once because I can never imagine my life without knowing them
18. I want a little bit of silliness
19. I want chilly days snuggled up under blankets watching the rain fall on the other side of the window
20. I want to go somewhere and be able to point at things, saying, "Wow, how cool is that?" and know that the person I'm talking to will think it's cool too

These things that I want are all so many things that are about how I want to feel and how I want to be treated. These are things I have with Mr. Curls. Yes, his life is totally messy right now. Yes, that stresses me out. But, in the end, I think taking the time to give him time to sort at least a chunk of that mess out before I walk out the door is worth it. I know I'm asking for trouble if I try and build a life with a guy who's just going to crash and burn again, but maybe he just needs some time to go in a new direction. I worry about the mess, but look at all I stand to gain. Isn't that worth a little bit of time?

The Wedding, The Ambivalence, The Problem, and Time

A day after I got home from Florida, Mr. Curls and I were on the road to my penpal's wedding. A six-hour drive later, we arrived in my penpal's city and met up with her for dinner. Friday, she and I spent the afternoon together running some pre-wedding errands.

Saturday morning started out rough. I woke up feeling ill - delayed altitude sickness it turned out. Mr. Curls was real sweet about making a couple of runs, first for a bit of medicine for my nausea, second for a light breakfast. Still, I felt pretty bad the whole morning and most of the rest of the day. Awesome, lemme tell ya.

By wedding time, I was mostly okay again, but my mood was less than stellar. Add to that the excitement of a wedding and the emotions entailed, plus being at the wedding of one of my best friends with a date who's exchanged those same vows twice already, and, well... I was stressed. The wedding itself = beautiful and sweet. Going with Mr. Curls = "What am I doing?!"

He's so sweet to me and all kinds of nice things, but he's got so much drama in his life. I had a crisis. Here I was, watching my friend marry a guy she's crazy about and all I could think was how I couldn't picture myself tying my life to Mr. Curls' life that way. All I could think was, "This guy has too much mess. How could I ever marry him?" That thought quickly ushered in the follow up thought of, "Then what am I doing with him?"

I was tired, I felt sick, and my emotions were all akimbo. I was cranky during the drive home, despite my best intentions not to take out my stress on Mr. Curls, because I knew that a lot of what I was feeling about him had more to do with everything else going on than it had to do just with him. I apologized about the crankiness and was surprised when he understood where it was coming from - not every detail, but understanding that all the travel and close quarters had taken their toll. He wasn't excited about my bad mood, but he got why I was in it and let things be quiet for a time while I pulled myself out of it. The way he reacted was an unexpected relief and it reminded me that there are good reasons why I like him.

Today, I talked with Amanda. I told her about my worries about Mr. Curls. I told her that during the wedding I thought, "What am I doing with this guy?"

Amanda replied, "Oh, that just means you're going to break up with him. It's okay though. He was a good experience for you."

Then, of course, Mr. Curls tells me he's officially quit smoking. His last cigarette was five days ago and he's determined to stay off the cancer sticks. Then, today, he got fired (long story short, his boss is a dick who fired him for taking Thursday off, aka the day Mr. Curls requested off a month ago, got approval for, and then got told the paperwork was "lost" and that he had to work on his approved day off). Today, Mr. Curls came over and even though he was embarrassed to admit that he needed help, asked for my help on overhauling his resume. Then, even more significantly, when I told him we needed to redo his resume from scratch (the one he had was an unfocused, 5-page mess) he just nodded and said, "Okay, where do I start?" It wasn't easy for him and he was very uncomfortable being that vulnerable, but he did it because he knew he needed to do it. I tore his resume apart, helped him put it back together again, and he said, "Thank you" and meant it.

On one hand, I've come to the stark realization that Mr. Curls is something of a train wreck. He's well-intentioned and passionate and sweet, but his life, in short, is not in order. I'm not looking for a millionaire, but it is important to me that my Mr. Right has a fairly good grip on his life. Let's face it, right now, Mr. Curls doesn't. But, with a couple of things that have happened the past few days, maybe he's started to head in the right direction?

Today, I got to see Mr. Curls' work history. It's, well, spotty. A few months here, a year there, eighteen months at that other place. He says he knows it makes him look like a flake. He knows that's not a great thing, neither for an employer nor for me to see. He explains, he justifies, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, sure, the last few years could just be a run of bad luck. Fine. The thing is, I'm getting worn out with some of his talk. He over-explains. He complicates. He preemptively defends the things he's embarrassed about. All this chatter does him more harm than good and I'm just waiting and watching, tuning out the jabber and focusing on the action.

Between bad choices and bad luck, Mr. Curls has had a bad run. Whatever. There's a lot I can forgive about the past. It's the present, the future, that I'm most interested in. I'm conflicted in figuring out the present. On one hand, he's done some things lately that I'd classify as problematic. On the other, he's done some things lately that have been very positive. I just can't figure out which is more weighted.

I think I have to give this more time. I need to see if/how much he's learned from past mistakes and the only way to really do that is to see if/how he repeats them. Some time in the not-too-distant future, I foresee a talk regarding my concerns. The time is not now. I want to see how he handles the situation he's in now and see what that tells me.

All I know for sure is that, unless Mr. Curls gets some things in his life under control, I'm not optimistic about this relationship's lifespan.

An Unexpected Ally

Yesterday, Mr. Curls got a call from ex #2's new boyfriend. Mr. Curls has a couple of things the ex wants, and the boyfriend called to arrange a time so he could pick them up. The ex, it seems, was busy (shocker!).

The conversation went kind of like this:

Boyfriend: So, can I come by and pick those things up?
Mr. Curls: Sure. I'll trade you.
Boyfriend: Huh?
Mr. Curls: Well, when you come to pick up the stuff, I'm going to ask that you take divorce papers with you.
Boyfriend: What? I thought that was all underway already.
Mr. Curls: Believe me, I'd very much like it to be.
Boyfriend: Yeah, me too. I'll make sure it gets done.

Mr. Curls met his ex's new fella yesterday and he says the guy's pretty decent. He said, "I wanted to tell him to run for the hills and save himself, but I'll wait until after the paperwork's signed."

I'm so pleased the boyfriend is intent on getting the divorce going. He's the most likely person to get the ex to cooperate, and now I'm just hoping that she's keen enough on making him happy to finalize the divorce for his sake. It's nice that he and Mr. Curls see eye-to-eye on the issue and that he seems like he's going to help minimize the drama, rather than increase it. I haven't met the dude, yet I feel like I want to hug him.

My Curly-Haired Valentine, or Mr. Curls Gets Laid

Mr. Curls and I spent the afternoon and most of the night together today. I cooked us dinner, we rented a movie, and we talked more about his relationship history. I was nervous bringing it up, but needed to understand more about it. He was uncomfortable talking about it, but he puts a high premium on honesty and being straight with me, so he told me about wife #1 and wife #2, with more info on #2 since that story's more recent. He regrets the whole wife #2 thing, but until someone invents a time machine, there's not much he can do to change it.

I appreciated that he was straight with me, especially since it's a subject he'd rather not talk about. But, I learned the most important thing I wanted to learn, that the rebound marriage episode was a mistake and not a pattern.

It's weird that, given his past, we've had to be so up front so quickly. We've talked about issues that most couples don't talk about this early, but I wouldn't say it's a bad thing. Just a matter of having less being eased into things and more being chucked in the deep end. But, I'm still feeling okay with the complications. I'm cautious, but I don't hear alarms going off in the back of my mind.

So, it was with all that in mind (and the fact that my period's decided to hold off just a bit longer), that I decided tonight would be a good night to sleep with him. I was nervous, and so was he, and I'm mostly just glad that the first time is behind us now. That sounds terrible, doesn't it? But, couples get better at sex after they've had a chance to know what the other person likes. Our 2nd time will be better, and so on.

I'm glad we had sex tonight. It made me more relaxed with him, because first-time sex was the biggest scary thing for me, and now we've had it. Scary thing over. We stayed in bed a good long while after, cuddling and talking and I didn't freak out. Okay, maybe a very, very small voice whispered in my head to run (or, rather, kick him out), but it was more a reaction to me internalizing this whole girlfriend idea - him saying the word was one thing, but having sex is what really hit it home.

On a side note, he gave me a present today. When he said he wanted to give me something, I was a little worried that it'd be something too big, something expensive or whatnot. Turns out, the present was perfect - a necklace that's beautiful but inexpensive and I love it to death. I wore it all day today and when I hung it up after he left, it made me smile. I've got boyfriend jewelry :)

I've got a boyfriend.

I've got a boyfriend with a complicated past, but one who's warm and sweet and respectful and all kinds of other things that make me believe he's worth the complications. I'm in it now. I've officially crossed over the line into believing that this is an genuine relationship. The thought makes me a bit light headed, but in a good way.

I Knew There Was Baggage, I Didn't Know It'd Be a Complete Set

Holy mother load, Batman! We have baggage!

Mr. Curls cooked dinner for me tonight and it was sweet and adorable, even when he was running late because he got tied up at work and even when the lasagna came out runny. I made chocolate fondue for dessert and afterward, we cuddled on the couch. After a while, he said something along the lines of, "Where do you see this going?"

I thought about how to phrase it. "Well, I'd like to keep you around for a while."

"I would like that too. I would like that very much. And, if that's the case, then there are some things I should probably tell you."

The first thing he told me was that he's got two kids, ages 13 & 9. They live about an hour and a half away, with his ex-wife. Whew, talk about a lot to take in. He and the ex were married nearly eleven years, then things went downhill.

We talked about that a little. He was trying to gauge how freaked out I was, and I was trying to figure that out too. I told him, "I've never really dealt with this sort of thing before. It's complex, but not inherently bad. I'm okay with feeling it out as we go." Then I asked, "Is there anything else I should know?"

He hesitated. "After the divorce, I started dating again and met someone. We got married and it lasted about two months before she decided she'd rather be single."

"How long ago did you split up?"

"About a year and a half ago, I asked for a divorce."

"Is it finalized yet?"

"It took her a long time to sign the paperwork, so it's not finalized yet. But, we haven't been together for over a year."

I waited for him to spring more surprises, but it seems that's the whole shebang. Not that I want any more, mind you. Not in the least. That's more than enough for me to process. I mean, fuck, two kids, two ex-wives. That's plenty.

I'm still processing it, feeling it out. The 1st wife and kids is more than I expected, but not a wholly unexpected variety of baggage. The 2nd wife and the not-yet-finalized-divorce is the part that bothers me more. Though, and maybe it's stupid of me, I can't help but want to overlook the beat up suitcases in favor of how he's sweet and thoughtful and all kinds of other wonderful things that make me smile when I think about him.

It's complicated, but we both want to try to make this work. He asked if it'd be okay if he called me his girlfriend and I just did the official Facebook switch-over from "single" to "in a relationship." I mean, hell, I've always gotten along best with the married guys who had kids. Now it looks like I'll get my chance to date one. But, that 2nd divorce better get finalized damn quick. The sooner I can stop thinking about how he's still technically married, the better.

Guys Who Cook

Tomorrow night Mr. Curls is coming over to my place to cook dinner for me. I told him I was excited to experience his culinary skills, and he immediately countered with, "Don't say 'culinary,' it's too high stakes. You're going to be expecting fancy cuisine and how can I live up to that?"

"Okay, how about grub?"

"Ah, much better."

He asked me some questions about my kitchen gear and what kinds of foods I like and said he'd need a day to ponder what to cook. I'm way excited about having him cook for me. The food itself could be interesting, but more than that it's the gesture of it. Buying dinner is one thing, but cooking dinner takes more effort and is riskier. I think it's totally charming.

When my ex and I were together, we'd cook for each other. He makes his own hamburgers and fusses over the seasoning to make sure they're just right. Watching him prepare food for me was always lovely. It's all about the effort. It's like City Girl's post today about how she likes to take care of her guy.

The thing is, in our society, most people consider their time to be at least a little more important than their money. A guy who's willing to cook for me is a guy who gets major points in my book.

I'm covering dessert tomorrow and I decided to go for chocolate fondue. It's fun, it's chocolatey, and it'll be my first time trying to do it at home. I figured that if anyone's up for trying a culinary (I mean, grub) experiment with me, it's Mr. Curls.

Guy Unlikely

Just got home from a coffee date turned walking tour of downtown turned lunch date with Mr. Curls. It's surprising to me how well we mesh, how much our life philosophies, etc. are in synch, and how easily he can make me laugh. The more I get to know him, the more I like him. That hardly ever happens. It's amazing.

I don't want to get ahead of myself with this, but I'm feeling more right about him than I've felt about any guy since my ex-fiance.

Today he confessed that he really hates his curly hair. Ironic ;) Just goes to show that sometimes there are features we don't necessarily like about ourselves which other people adore about us. Remember that the next time you're getting down on yourself about something.

While I don't want to get ahead of myself, I do think it's safe to relax into the situation and just enjoy how much I enjoy seeing him.

I've got to say I'm really glad of my puppy crush on Bartender Guy, 'cause without it, I think it's highly unlikely that I'd have stumbled onto Mr. Curls, and that would have been unfortunate.

Sushi and Vampires

I went out with Mr. Curls last night and had a very good time. We had dinner at a sushi place, killed some time at the book store where a friend of mine works (she sent me a "so, what's the scoop?" e-mail as soon as she got off work), then went to the theater to watch Daybreakers. I know a gruesome vampire flick might not be everyone's idea of a date movie, but when he suggested a movie, that's the one that I really wanted to see.

Anyhow, back to the date. I picked the movie and he picked the restaurant, which was nice because the last few dates I went on were ones where the guy said, "um, what do you want to do?" so going out with someone who wasn't so afraid of choosing something I wouldn't like that he didn't choose anything at all was good. The restaurant was good, and talking with Mr. Curls was enjoyable, and as he relaxed, a very playful side of him came out and I'm a sucker for a guy who doesn't mind being a little silly every now and again.

This morning I'm all smitten and the typical smileyness that comes after a date that went well. My first impressions of this guy are good. I'm cautious still, but so far he's a lot like the kind of guy I've thought would be right for me. He's a balance of confident and considerate, smart and playful, etc. etc. He's earnest like Comic Book Guy and Radio Guy, but more adventurous like Army Guy.

I quite like this random guy I met at a bar. Go figure.

The Curly-Haired Stranger

I went to my bar last night because I thought they were having a band and I thought my bartender crush would be there. Turns out I was mistaken on both counts, but as soon as I walked in I spotted a few of the regulars I used to know as well as a bartender I used to work with, so I hunkered down at the end of the bar, a young gal surrounded by old men. We had a good chat.

Later, once the men had left, I had the end of the bar pretty much to myself and I sipped a drink and did some writing in my notebook. Just as I was starting to feel disappointed that there was no band (nor my crush), a cute guy my age walked over to me. He was maybe around 5'7", slender, with glasses and curly brown hair.

Him: Do you work here?
Me: No.
Him: Oh, I just saw you writing and thought maybe you did.

Since I clearly was sitting, not wearing an apron or anything with the bar insignia, etc. I knew it was pretty obvious to anyone who was paying attention that I was not working. In the past, my reaction to his blunder would have been to blow him off, but I'm being more social these days, nicer, right? So, instead I just smiled. After all, it was pretty clear that the point of the question was not the answer itself, but to start talking to me, so what he said was less important than the fact that he said something.

Him: So what are you writing?
Me: I'm working on a short story.
Him: Really? That's cool. I've got a novel I've been trying to finish for about two years now.

That was soon followed by, "You mind if I sit down?" Then his buddy came over and he told the buddy, "I'll meet up with you there."

That's when I thought to myself that, for the first time in my life, I was actually being picked up in a bar. We sat and talked for over an hour, finding out that we actually have a lot of things in common. The night ended with an exchange of numbers and an invitation to see a movie.

All this effort with the going out in public and being social, and I actually met a guy. Even if it goes no further, I've got to say it was nice to get chatted up last night, especially since I think I could genuinely get along with him. And, did I mention the curls?

In pursuit of my crush on the bartender, I ended up with a date with another guy. That's funny.

Social Butterfly Training

This past week I was hardly at home. I had extra shifts for the boring job and, on more than one night, went directly from my work shift to a Christmas party or whatnot. Good grief, talk about exhausting. It was a good, satisfying exhaustion, though. I met some new people and spent time with some folks I've known for a while.

Amanda was in town, and it was great to see her again. Though, I wouldn't have minded skipping the part where I met her and a friend of hers, a.k.a. ex-stripper gal, at a bar. Ex-stripper gal gets on my nerves. The two of them arrived first and when I joined them, this chick didn't so much as pause for breath, much less say "hello." She then spent the next fifteen minutes straight on a rant. She literally never slowed down enough for neither Amanda nor I to say, "uh huh," much less contribute to the conversation. In short, girlie is used to being the center of attention and has bad social skills.

Since she was so blatantly excluding me from the "conversation," (she wouldn't even look at me while she was monologuing), I took the opportunity to watch the room. There was a cute guy at a nearby table who I caught glancing at me, so I tried to practice making eye contact. It was a partial success - one small step for womankind, one giant leap for me. Then, since, Amanda is good at conversational judo, she gradually steered the night away from the one-woman show and toward actual interaction.

On another night, the gal who does my hair (got highlights this week!) invited me to see her boyfriend's band at none other than the bar where my crush works. Synchronicity, no? So, I saw Bartender Guy again and found out he's a smoker - no huge surprise there, he is a bartender after all - which is gross and dampens my crush. But, on the other hand, he wears button-up dress shirts, which is ever-so appealing, and who does that in my oh-so-casual city? So, even though the smoking is usually a deal-breaker for me, I'm staying open minded for now.

My crush on him is unusual and serendipitous, so I don't mind having it a while longer. It's interesting, if nothing else, because he's a blend of traits I'm attracted to - the dress shirts, being a bartender - and traits I'm not attracted to - the smoking, for instance, and I usually don't have strong physical attraction to skinny dudes. Also, there's the way he keeps popping up on my radar, even when I'm not stalking him ;) and how he's good friends with people I'm friends with, and it turns out he was even a senior at my high school when I was a freshman there. If anything, it's kind of strange we haven't bumped into each other before now.

On a side note, being formally introduced via hairdresser gal means he's now the 3rd bartender I know with the same name. That means, if my sampling is statistically valid, that approximately 25% of male bartenders in the world are named Dave.

Just Call Me Chicken

I went out with M., lady of the unrequited love, last night. We went to the bar where Bartender Guy works, and when she started to hint that she'd rather go somewhere else, a la, "This band's okay, but not worth the cover charge," I confessed.

"I like the band okay, but my real reason for wanting to come is the guy who took our cash at the door."

"Really?" She turned to look. She nodded appreciatively. Then she said, "The part I don't get is why, if you came here for a crush, you're sitting with your back to him," she pointed to the opposite seat of the booth, "instead of where you can look at him."

"Um..."

"Not to mention why haven't you gone over and talked to him?"

I probably blushed at that point. Then she laughed hysterically and called me a chickenshit.

I sighed. "I'm bad at this, at boys."

The best I managed was a quick exchange with him on the way out along the lines of, "Going already?" on his part and, "Yeah, but the band is fun" on mine.

Yup, he'll fall in love with me for sure now.

Couples, Couples, Couples

There's a theory about relevance. The theory is, you buy a red chevy and all of a sudden, all you see everywhere is red chevys. It's a radar theory - you're paying more attention to something and so you spot it often.

I'm having a reverse relevance experience. Every where I look, I see couples. Thanks to the seasonal job, for hours on end I stand in a store, watching people my age walk by hand-in-hand. I see gals my age pushing baby strollers around. I see a cute guy, then his girlfriend/wife rounds the corner right behind him.

I gotta tell you, it's extremely annoying. Where are the single guys? Have they all gone into hiding?

Fat Pants!

I got to spend some time with my brother on Sunday and catch up with how things have been going for him off in Florida land. During the conversation, he proudly announced the following:
Brother: I bought new pants today!
Me: Oh my, that's big news for you.
Brother: I had to. I've put on fifteen pounds since May.
(He had a big grin when he said it)
Me: I'm so... pleased for you?
Brother: It might have something to do with the fact that I have a whole mini-fridge devoted to beer.
Me: It just might.
Brother: Now I have fat pants!

I'm trying to think of any woman I've ever know who has been so entertained by weight gain. I'm drawing a blank. My brother, though, he thinks it's hilarious.

Between the Boys: Part 2

*If you haven't read Part 1 yet, read it before you read this post.*

Later on, I tell the story of what happened to my parents. My mom says, "And you just got in between them like that?"

"Yeah. I had to."

Mom doesn't look thrilled. In fact, she looks worried. "That could have been dangerous. In the heat of the moment like that, who knows what could have happened." She reminds me that there was no way for me to know if one of them, for instance, had a knife.

Then I realize, during the whole thing, it never once crossed my mind that I could get hurt. The only thing I was thinking was that I had to step in. I had to take control of the situation.

I acted on my gut. There were some different factors involved in why I did what I did, but I realize that a lot of it came from growing up a tom boy. Back then, I had to stare down plenty of boys that had something to prove. I became an expert at it.

It's a paradox - send me on a first date, and I'm terrified. Throw me into a situation like this, and I have complete confidence. Though, after the situation was de-escalated, my hands were a bit wobbly from the adrenaline rush.

Between the Boys: Part 1

Today while my class is working on their current projects, a commotion breaks out. I go over to see what's going on and two of my male students are pissed at each other. One has a big mouth that hides the vulnerable kid beneath, and the other has just had a rough time of it this semester, (i.e.: both have something to prove).

They aren't really talking by the time I get there, but their body language is full of anger. I ask them what's going on, but neither answers me. The whole class is gawking, waiting for things to get interesting. One student is throwing his things together and he starts walking out the door. The other follows. All I can think of is once they hit the hallway, there's going to be violence, so I'm right behind them and then it's the three of us in the empty hall, with the classroom door shut behind us.

The two guys square off in the hall. One of them isn't incredibly tall, (maybe 5' 7" ish), and one of them is over six foot and a football player who's, well, built like one. I step right in between them and, knowing, because I know these students, that if something's going to start, it's the bigger student who's going to start it, I turn to him and look him in the eye.

He ignores me for a few seconds, looking over my shoulder at the other student and visibly shaking with anger, but I keep talking in a calm voice, saying things like "Look at me, not at him, at me. We need to take this down a notch," and he finally meets my gaze, takes a breath, and calms down enough to walk back in the room. The other student goes to follow, and I stop him to make sure he's calm enough to go back in.

Both guys are back in the room, with all the rest of my class staring on, bug-eyed and holding their breath to see what's going to happen. I say, "Okay, gentlemen, you both need to sit down, and you," I call one by name, "need to move back a few rows and work with your group."

Their body language makes it clear they're half a second away from starting a fight right there in the classroom, so I add, because our campus security is actually a sheriff's office, "Now, gentleman, if I need to, I will call the sheriff. Do I need to make that call?"

One shakes his head. The other mutters, "No ma'am." Then, thankfully, they both sit down. The other students watch for a little longer, and one raises her hand with a question. I look at both of the boys and gauge the situation, then I turn my back to them and walk over to help her, tensed, all the while, in case things started up again.

Behind me, it stayed quiet.

Navy Guy

Last week the website kicked up another guy who showed some promise. He's 29, a Navy MP (Amanda says, "MPs are crazy, but you could do crazy"), and more confident/put together than Radio Guy or Comic Book Guy. However, after a couple e-mails, I learned he's currently stationed in Italy.

Navy Guy has mentioned that he's returning to my area "soon," so it might not be bad to just do some e-mails right now. But, then he's stationed overseas again for a year. So, in an absolutely best case scenario, where when he's back in the states and we meet in person and really hit it off, I'm looking at a long-distance thing.

I've got to say, it doesn't look like Navy Guy is going to work out. I'll keep going and see where it ends up, 'cause there's no harm in just trying on the shoes, but I'm not holding my breath. Come on, universe, would it really be that awful if I met a nice attractive gentleman who's actually within a 50 mile radius of where I live? Ugh.

F*ing Middle Aged Men at the Laundromat

Today I went to the laundromat to wash my comforter. I really hate going to the laundromat, but it had to be done. Why do I hate going? Well, because of schmucks like the one I encountered today. I start my washing and walk over to the wall to find a place to sit and work on grading some papers.

Middle aged, overweight dude looks over at me. "Smile already, it gets better."

Goddamn it, why do middle aged men always feel the need to tell me to f*ing smile? Since when is my facial expression any of their business? "Not 'til next week," I said as I grabbed my things and headed for another place to sit.

Behind me, I heard him say, "Huh?"

Exactly dude. You know absolutely nothing about me. Shut the f* up.

What happens next week, you ask? Nothing special, it was just the first stupid thing that came into my mind. More than almost anything else in the world, I hate being ordered to smile by complete f*ing strangers. It's rude and implies that if I'm not completely ecstatic to be doing my laundry, there's something wrong with me. I mean, what the hell?

Of course, I have a friend whose mouth is naturally turned up a the corners, begging strangers to randomly ask her "What are you smiling about?" Can't win for losing.

Since when is somebody's facial expression the business of strangers? Leave it alone, man. And, if you really, really want somebody to smile, commanding them to do so is damn sure not the way to do it. There's a much easier way, in fact. You smile at them. The vast majority of people will smile back.

Thank Harold I get to do all the rest of my laundry at home.

It's Hard Being Good

Thus spake the boy on Facebook: am I too good for a great girl, or not good enough? What am I doin wrong?

*Sigh*

I could tell him how complaining is bad marketing, or how there's no such thing as being "too good" for a great girl, but I think I'm going to leave it alone. Last thing I feel like doing is engaging in something so set up for a cliche.

Dude, get over yourself. That's what you're doing wrong.

A Decided Lack of Enthusiasm

I have a date with Radio Guy tonight. I'm meeting him at a pizza place (my pick) in about half an hour. At this point, I'd kind of rather stay home. I just finished the second of two 8-hour days of pre-semester Composition department workshops, and I'm a bit worn out. Also, Radio Guy has proven to be kind of... boring. My goal tonight is to try and be more interesting myself, and do more interesting things, in order to give him, by extension, a chance to be more interesting. Maybe loosen him up a bit, and such. Maybe it'll help.

Worst case, the two-day workshop marathon gives me a prime excuse for calling it a night early.

I'm Going to Be Polite, Instead

When you really want to say something, but don't, we call it biting your tongue. So, what's it called when you really want to type something, but don't? Holding your fingers?

Cute guy I went to high school with, but never really knew well/talked to, just changed his Facebook status to say that he "isn't looking forward to the sleepless night." Doesn't that just seem to beg for an off-color response?