A Year in Review

Things I will keep from 2009:

Giving someone a second, or even third chance isn't always a bad idea. You can be pleasantly surprised by the changes they make, as I was with Nomad. But I still wouldn't recommend it. After all, if someone screws you over three or four times and you go back to them, you're going to be the butt of someone's joke. In fact you may end up on this very blog!

Slow and steady may, actually, win the race. At first, I was not on board with Superhero Gangster's approach to dating. Really? You want to know me as a friend first? Nothing else? And there's no deadline on this? It could last for how many months? Sweet fancy Moses! (If you can name that reference, you get a cookie!). But it turns out that it wasn't bad at all. While Superhero Gangster was doing what he felt he needed to do, I got to hang out with him and just be myself. There was no pressure, just a little awkwardness in the beginning. I flirt with guys I like, after all, so I had to be a bit more conscious of that. But after that was over, it was smooth sailing, and lo and behold! Here he comes seven months later asking me on a date.

Go with your gut. If the guy is creepy once, he'll probably creep all over you again. So don't chance it! Same with aggression and flakiness. Ah lessons learned.... man Minor League II was creepy!

Even if you consider yourself an excellent judge of character, as I do, you can still be deceived. I never knew the demons Benny and the Jets was facing, and what the underlying reasons for his crazy behavior were. Some men just hide it really well.

Some guys are actually really straight forward and tell you exactly what's going on and what they're thinking. Ferrell was this way - he was old enough to know how he should act with a 22-year-old, so it makes sense. I appreciate the qualities so much more after being with him for 5 months. What he told me in the beginning was just what happened in the end. I should have trusted his words more.

Lastly, fuck people who consistently suck. I have no love for that man anymore, he doesn't even deserve a nickname. He has screwed me over so many times and we haven't dated in years and years. Some people are just toxic. Cut them out. Life isn't long enough to deal with them.

So much to say because so much has happened in so little time

A lot has happened in the last month. Here’s a quick run-down: Ferrell is gone, literally. He is all over the country with work, spending less and less time in LA, and, thus, even less time with me. Apparently, I’m one of his “favorite and most respected people” he’s ever met. I guess I could chalk all of this up to bad timing – if we were in a different place at a different time, it could have worked. Actually, we would have literally had to have been in the SAME place at the SAME time. So, it didn’t work and I’m not happy about it. After five months, I acquired a lot of feelings for him and a number of (obviously) unrealistic expectations. So ya, I was upset and I still am. It sucks; whenever something ends, it sucks.

Moving on before I cry over the subject (which I haven’t done yet… quite amazing). Nomad is still AWOL, in Madagascar or the Bermuda Triangle or somewhere like that. I have been thinking more and more and probably too much about what could, should, and will happen when he returns. I know he thinks it’s not easy on his end, traveling around the beautiful places in the world without any desirable women in reach. But guess what, it’s hard here too. I have to go through work, school, and the rest while wrestling with the decision of whether I should hold out for a chance of happiness with Nomad or continue to see what is out there.

So, cough cough, maybe I’m doing a wee little bit of both.

Humility is a Tricky Business

"Ugh" sums it up. Ferrell, if you're reading this, for the love of God I beg you stop. I'm gonna vomit. Maybe I should not have let the blog slide out of my mouth during a double sate with Ubetcha, Ferrell, and his friend, but it was a relevant addition to whatever conversation we were having. Nevertheless, I'm still feeling the panic.

But enough of that! I had an interesting conversation with a good friend of mine the other day. We were discussing our current dating situations, and my new expectations. And then he said something rather brilliant, and I will paraphrase it using the words from the Tough Love guy on VH1 - "It's okay to make exceptions for exceptional men". I mulled this over, and I agree, to an extent. I will compromise my comfort level when I really like someone, but my convictions are a different story, because in my opinion no one is special enough to make me drink or question the other values I hold especially high. And I wonder what the other singles out there would have to say about this...

He’s actually kind of a douche bag….

I’ve had a guy named Minor League in the past, but this guy really meets the same criteria. Let’s dub him…. Minor League II. I don’t think I could know him by any other name. Let’s break this down: met him at a local bar/club about a month ago. He’s a nice guy; good-looking, funny, athletic… he fits the basic outline of a guy I’d date. But, and there’s always a but, he’s kind of oddly aggressive and, ya, kind of a douche. The aggression freaks me out – I’m a buck 15, this guy can take me, so the more aggressive he acts around me the weirder it gets. I don’t want to become a Lifetime movie here. As for being a douche, here’s an example:

MLII: Hey so what are you doing tonight? Do you maybe want to go out with me and some of my friends?
PP: Ya maybe. I’m in the middle of finals but I may want to take a break.
MLII: Cool, well do you think you could maybe pick us up later?
PP: Uh… what?
MLII: Well we’re already drinking so…
PP: What would you do if I can’t come?
MLII: Take a taxi cab I guess.

Really? I mean come on! I’m not your Dial-A-Ride! That’s strike 2, so he’s almost out.

Ferrell has been my main guy for four months now. I do really want to just be exclusive with him, but I’m going to fight that feeling and not push it with him. He’s not a vocal person when it comes to us, which I’ve mentioned before, and I need to feel it and not hear it. That’s my new mantra, and I’ll repeat it and repeat it and repeat it to myself. O the fun of lying to ourselves.

Can you speak up please? I can't hear you!

Every once in a while, my life seems to have a theme. The same ideas come up in various conversations and contexts, and I’m left to mull it over. Recently, this is what’s been on my mind: it is always more important to value the actions of a man over his words; words can be false and empty, but actions speak volumes. It’s been coming from everywhere, from everyone, but I haven’t felt like it’s applied to me until recently.

Ferrell is great. I enjoy every moment I spend with him, and I wish we could spend even more time together. But here’s the problem – the man doesn’t speak; when it comes to us, he could be diagnosed with selective mutism (wow, graduate school really has taken a toll on me and somehow made me even more of a nerd). I have really had to stretch myself to look at what he’s doing and not what he’s saying, or not saying. It takes me a lot of self-discipline to avoid yelling at him and asking "Do you like me or not? Just tell me!" Instead, I hold it in, which is clearly not my specialty.

So for all my single ladies (read that with the Beyonce song in mind), here’s the deal: we hear all sorts of lines all the time, some of them touching and seemingly sincere but many of them ridiculous. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been given great lip-service from a guy I’m dating only to be disappointed a few weeks later when he stops calling or things fizzle. Actions speak louder than words, and we have to stop caring so much about what comes out of their mouths (because we all know most of it is bull) and start paying attention to all the little things they do; the calls, the texts, the dates, and the affection. Ferrell may not be full of sweet talk (channeling The Killers song) but when he picks me up a Yogurt Land shirt and kisses my shoulders in the morning, I hear him loud and clear.

Just when I count them out...

...they pull me back in. Ferrell surfaced again after his time away from California. I have to say I'm pleased that he called me from LAX when he landed; I like him and I was bummed that I had to start mentally getting over him. I didn't want to count him out, because ultimately I really enjoy spending time with him.



And I got another pick-me-up. About a month ago, I met one of his friends briefly at his place. We chatted for a bit and joked a little, and I didn't think anything of it until Ferrell told me a delightful tidbit. Apparently, his friend called him the next day, and the sole purpose for the call was to tell Ferrell that "yes he thought you were beautiful, but he said that he thought you were just really cool and smart, just an awesome girl." It's always nice to get a pat on the back from the friends, even when it comes three weeks after the fact. I met another friend again tonight, and he told Ferrell "Convert her and marry her!" Nice...



And maybe just one more piece of smile-inducing news. Ferrell suggested that we take a mini trip somewhere, like an overnight to the beach and stay in a hotel. There is only one downside - I have to keep in mind the fact that he doesn't want a serious relationship. I have to be aware of my perspective on all of this, even though my hopes are already sky-high. "Don't get your hopes up" is a joke of statement. My best friend and I have had that discussion on numerous occasions; the minute someone warns you not to get your hopes up, they're already nearly out of reach.

Another one Bites the Dust

Really? No... I mean it... really? This is insane. Within two days, my three men were narrowed down to one. So let's update my loyal readers, because if nothing else it's entertainment for you (by the way it's still my life).

Ferrell has been counted out. I spoke with him briefly last week and he has been traveling on the other coast, but in my opinion, if you can't pick up a phone to say hi, then you really must be holding fast to that whole "I don't want a committed relationship" bit. And that's fine, but I'm going to begin to mentally move on. I would be dumb if I didn't, and a poor excuse for a future psychologist. But come on... really? When you're 31 and you've been dating someone for over two months, it seems like you should be able to actually end something rather than drifting off into oblivion....

Next! Nomad has freaked himself out again. There is a back story here that is far too long to go into, and I haven't discussed Nomad very much because he's the one person who would be upset if he learned about this blog. So in his interest I have written about him sparingly. But screw it, I need to vent Internet style. Nomad is emotionally unavailable - his words not mine. He's been this way since long before I met him, long before I dated him a year ago, and long before he came back into the country and wanted to start things up again. I am so emotionally available that it's taken me years to learn how to hold back and contain myself.

Was this a dating disaster waiting to happen? Meh... maybe, but I thought he would be able to hold off on freaking himself out for another week before he left for four months. I thought wrong. We set up an actual date, something we haven't done since we reconnected and rekindled. All seemed good, and then a text trying to end it, informing me that he can't handle it right now, he's got too much to think about, he's leaving..... give me a break. Texts? Really? I didn't know we were in middle school. I don't care how great you say I am or how much you care - grow a pair and pick up the phone... or maybe even an in-person goodbye? What a thought.

Bon voyage!

Must Be Funny

One of the standard first questions in the dating world is "What do you look for in a man?" While we roll this question around in our heads, trying to dream up a perfect response to this man we've just met, I wonder if any of us ever actually have a good answer. It always keeps changing, after every man we date or grow to hate. The definition expands as our dating lives do. Wouldn't it be great if one day a man asked us that question and we could respond in one word: "you"?

After my dating marathon of a year, I could write a fairly entertaining mini-series on my new and improved definition of a perfect man. It would include: not a stress-case like "Nomad" but just as good looking, not an idiot like "Drunken Dancer", not an indecisive, dramatic 12-year-old girl like "Jimbo Jones", not a douche bag like "Mr. Hollywood", some good looks like "Minor League" without the ego, no "Frenchie's" with their excessive amounts of money, and, at all costs, avoid the boring, yet sweet, "IQ's".

Maybe the new year has given me this new perspective, and a new man. After speaking with "Ferrell" for a few minutes on New Year's Eve, he asked me the famous, aforementioned question. My response was simple, straight-forward, and a direct result of my most recent, failed dating blitz: "He has to be funny." I guess if I had to take out a personal ad, that would be the title, 'must be funny'. He can't take himself too seriously and he has to be able to make me laugh. So far, I'm still happily optimistic about "Ferrell" and myself. I think this is one of the best aspects of a new relationship; the other is the fireworks.