Well Then.

Dear Blogosphere,

I have totally and completely neglected blogging for the past three weeks as I have been insanely busy and overwhelmed with moving, classes, and of course the never ending complex situations I put myself in. Yet, somehow, thanks to some being of the internet, I have had 638 views in the past two days. Mind you, this is more than double my all-time view count was prior to yesterday.

I’ve picked through my “stats” and “clicks” to see how this happened, and I can credit some blog post titled “Play Nice” on rationalmale.wordpress.com where someone commented about something and somehow linked to me. Though I have not had the chance to read it and clearly have no idea how so many people linked from him to me, this seems to be the case. What the real issue here is is that for some reason I am receiving hateful and negative comments. Didn’t mama teach you if you can’t say anything nice don’t say anything at all?

Now naturally I should ignore this. The internet is a cruel cruel world – just look at what happened to Rebecca Black – but I must try to restore my dignity on this one. Because that’s just what I do.

I have been accused of being narcissistic – that I think I am beautiful and floating through life. Maybe the way I see things is unconventional, but I am for sure listening to the Dove Campaign for Real Beauty as well as Tyra Banks. I do think I am beautiful, as every woman should. I do think I am intelligent, I do think I have a lot to offer. Would you rather me sit around and cry and think I suck at life? No. But narcissism? I don’t think I deserve any more than the next person by any means. Nor do I think the world revolves around me. And just for all you haters out there (really there was only two, but I’m offended nonetheless) the purpose of this blog is not a cry for attention, but rather a piece of relatable insight to other women like myself. Many women do this – the attraction to the drama or the mysterious bad boy – it’s not because we want our relationships to be difficult, but it just so happens to be well, what keeps happening. Do you think I want to date an asshole? Well no, I just get fooled into believing it will be something different.

Also, to the good sir who informed me I am in fact fucked and will never find a nice guy, well then, FUCK YOU.

That is all.
My usual good humored blogging will resume soon.

❤ Peace & Love

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I Always Choose Dessert.

Whenever you’ve just finished a delicious three course meal with an entree the size of your face or engorged yourself on everything available at the family cook out – there always comes that pesky little question at the end of your meal: would you like dessert?

In a restaurant setting I more than likely will say no, as I am already full and quite frankly I’m a cheapskate. But in those rare situations when dessert just appears on the table, like when my brother orders one and they bring out five spoons or at that family cookout when dessert is just as plentiful as the hot dogs and hamburgers, it becomes a matter of will power. Yes, I am full, stuffed, muy muy llena, but damn do those Oreo truffles look delicious! You know in the moment that the opportunities to have your aunt’s famous blonde brownies come few and far between and more often than not, we make “room for dessert”.

There is something guilty about giving in to these small pleasures because we know we might feel awful afterward. And of course, this is how I lead my love life. I cannot stress enough that I don’t do the one-night-stand thing, but the one night random make-out session on the dance floor – that happens often enough – bringing us to the story of D.

D is a friend of mine from the restaurant I used to work in (the same restaurant where I met Cedro). As of late I have been working a shift or two a week there for some extra cash. I have been fortunate enough to avoid the devilish Cedro, but have in turn reunited with the other sexy Colombian server – that being D. There are very few people who I would describe as charming, but D is most certainly one of them (this of course worries me because I also think my psychotic ex-roommate is very charming when you first meet her). When he talks you want to listen, when he walks you want to watch. His entire persona screams charm in your face, but I know more than he thinks and I question his integrity.

Sometime within the past 6 months or so that I hadn’t seen him, D got out of his two year relationship. So he’s single – on the market – cool, but I know a secret juicy enough for Gossip Girl to leak – D cheated with one of my best friends.

It was nearly a year ago, back in October at a house-warming party one of the bartenders was throwing. If you’ve been following closely enough you’ll remember me mentioning this party in “The Most Recent Asshole”, it was the shit-show party where Cedro and I drunkenly got back together after a seemingly torturous week of being broken-up. Another mistake made that night was D making the moves on my dear friend, Leanne. She told him to stop, that they shouldn’t be doing this, but he leaned in to kiss her some more. They’ve never mentioned it to one another. I have no idea if he fessed up to his girl, or if he even remembers doing what he did, but since that night I have always questioned his seemingly respectful personality and wondered if it was all an act.

Within recent weeks, when we have worked together, I got the feeling that he was flirting and this past Friday he asked me to come out for drinks for his birthday. Of course going out with people from the restaurant was not on the top of my to-do list as I try to avoid any situation that may involve alcohol and Cedro, but I told him I’d try to make an appearance at the end of the night. I toyed with the idea, knowing it was a bad one; getting involved with another server at the restaurant probably isn’t the best idea, but there’s just something about him and like those delicious blonde brownies, I knew the moment and opportunity could be fleeting. So I went. He asked me to dance. We made out on the dance floor. And it was lovely.

The problem is, when I turned my back for a moment or two, he managed to find another girl to dance with and kiss. Sure, do what you want, I’m not your girlfriend, but isn’t that a bit disrespectful? I tried to give him a free pass, excusing it because it was his birthday and because he was very very trashed, but past events have made me wonder if I can really let this slide. He’s been texting a bit, as he chased me out of the bar when I left asking me if he’d see me again, there is clearly interest, but I find myself in that same situation where my subconscious is asking me – would you like dessert? You know eating it might not end well, but it just looks so delicious – doesn’t it?

The Five Couples You Meet in College.

The Non-Labelers.

Like the bags we once saw on Canal Street, these couples are almost as good as the real thing. The non-labelers have all the rules of a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship, without the title. No hooking up with other people. No dates with other people. I have feelings for you, you have feelings for me. But it’s nothing serious because we don’t use the B word or the G word. These couples come in different shapes and sizes, but they are a step above your typical hook-up buddies. Everyone knows they’re together and each person is basically off the market, but they can still have the privilege of running around saying “well, I’m not in a relationship.”

The Invisibles.

Invisible couples are typically happy, yet dependent couples. They’re the couples that make us say “Oh, well he/she is probably with so-and-so today anyways” when we forget to invite them on our day trips to the beach with ten of our closest friends. The invisible couple spends every waking moment with their significant other, checks in with him or her before making plans, and if they ever do make an appearance, they’re almost certainly going to be together.

The Much-Too-Visibles.

I HAVE THE BEST BOYFRIEND EVER – should almost never be your Facebook status. The much-too-visibles are the couples that want the whole world to know how in love they are, how happy they are, and how beautiful their babies will be. These are the couples who Instagram photos of them kissing as if you haven’t seen it a billion times before. Though at times, adorable, these couples are most often obnoxious.

The Champions.

“We’re the best couple.” Different from the much-too-visibles in that the champions may or may not be as disgustingly in love as the much-too-visibles, but it doesn’t matter, because they’ve been together the longest and they never-ever fight. Champions, I would hope, are few and far between, but if you meet one, you will know when you hear them celebrating – “Look at that, we won baby, we’re the BEST couple.”

Ken & Barbie.

Ken & Barbie broke up back in 2004, but have been happily back-together since Valentines day 2011. Let’s face it, they belong together. The Ken & Barbie couple is the couple you almost forget is a couple. They go hand-in-hand and their names almost begin to mush together into one long word – i.e. Brangelina. They’re the couple that you’re so used to seeing together, so used to being around, that you would be eating ice-cream straight from the carton if they broke up.

More importantly:

Man X.

Just to be clear, Man X is nothing like the super cool genetically enhanced X-Men and his only super power seems to be the inability to get the hint.

As a refresher, Man X was the man-who-asked-for-my-number-on-street several weeks back. Since then he’s been texting here and there asking for a date. Paraphrasing would not do this justice, so for your viewing pleasure, here’s the highlights:

Clearly, I’m the bitch here by not feeding into his enthusiasm. But, to be fair, I know nothing about this guy except for his first name and I have had more than one friend try to scare me away from talking to him entirely. I mean, for all I know he’s a crazy serial killer! Clearly he’s trying to be cute and “surprise” me with some fantastic date, but honestly, I wanted a plan with an easy out. So, this happened:

I didn’t have plans, but I wanted a good excuse to leave incase things got weird and a good reason to pry about what the date would be. I personally hate small talk and I am really super awkward around people I don’t know, so I’m not too sure how a date with a guy I don’t know at all would play out. I’ve met some pretty significantly weird guys in my life and I did not want to potentially sacrifice an entire Saturday night for one. Also, I really didn’t appreciate his assuming I was free Saturday night and lack of bothering to ask if I had plans. I do [sometimes] have a life, you know.

The next few texts include him saying we should go out another time, that if I already have plans we will reschedule. I suggested we meet for a few hours for a drink or something and he declined. He told me to “Open an evening in your schedule and let me know.”

“To be honest, if we’re gonna do this, I just kind of want a set plan and nothing too crazy. It’s just I don’t know you at all and it makes me nervous,”  I finally said. There – is that straightforward enough for you?

He proceeded by telling me that I’m a “bright girl” and that this is a quality he likes about me. This was followed by the plan for our supposed date. It all sounded nice, but it was a trifecta of a date including a stroll around the park, drinks and dancing in one part of town, and a comedy show in another. I must admit, as much as I love commitment (I truly am a relationship type), I also hate commitment. I don’t like plans and I don’t like being tied into things. My friends and I often joke about not using the “P” word (plans, if that wasn’t obvious). A three part date made me feel trapped. Why can’t we simply meet for a drink? Or coffee? I know he’s just trying to be nice, but I don’t feel safe about it.

But I have a good three hours to spend with you and I clearly am trying to avoid your date. GET THE HINT.

He texted again this morning and wants to go out Thursday night, but I have yet to respond. He seems too pushy, unable to compromise. Or am I just reading too far into this?

 

I promised myself I’d go on a date; it’s one of the rules. But I just might chicken out. I’m just not all that interested.

– – –

On an unrelated note, if you’re interested in the details of my life, I made the mistake of making out with Ryan Harp on Friday night. It was the first time he made a move on me in nearly two years (despite all the sleepovers and cuddling) and I was pretty excited. Of course, the night ended in tears and a 3am walk back to my friend’s apartment. Because he’s an asshole. That will never change.

I’m a Perfect 9.5.

“You’re a perfect 9.5” is what Cedro always told me. That’s because he doesn’t believe a perfect 10 can exist. Swoon.

I’m a perfect 9.5, I’m a perfect 9.5! The idea would dance around in my head so gracefully. Am I really that hot?! Fuck yeah I am!

I firmly believe that every pretty girl should shut the fridgerator up and stop calling herself ugly. If you’re sexy and you know it clap your hands! None of this “OH EM GEE, Stacy, you look so smokin’ in that dress!” followed by the “Oh my God, Cheryl, no I don’t! I could never look smokin.” It’s time to swallow your lack of pride and respond with an “I know, right! Thank you!” If there’s one thing we learned from Regina George it’s that it’s better just to smile and respond with a hearty, I know, right?!, than to admit we have really bad breath in the morning like Cady Heron.

All that aside I want you to know that I think I’m pretty damn awesome and I’ll gladly accept the compliment of someone seeing me as a perfect 9.5.

It’s really a waste of time to think you suck. That’s no fun.

– – –

Update: I’m still seeing Kevin. Sort of. We’re on the same page that this is definitely a non-relationship hook-up, so call it what you may. The problem is, Kevin doesn’t know how to turn off the boyfriend gene and turn on his inner player. He’s a born boyfriend. Cute, but .. problematic?

On Tuesday I went to see Kevin for the first time since last Saturday morning. All weekend he kept texting me telling me how excited he was to see me in just a few days, how much he wanted me, how badly he wished he had someone to cuddle with. Now don’t get me wrong, I love the attention. I am totally the relationship type and it does make me smile ear-to-ear reading a text telling me how someone just cannot wait to see me so soon. But, this is just a hook up. I know for a fact that he is still hung up on his ex, as he has managed to mention her a number of times within the two weeks we’ve been talking. That’s completely fine, as long as it is clear I am okay with it. For now. But Kevin knows nothing but a relationship. All he knows is being a boyfriend. When I was getting sick on Monday (Sidenote: I’ve been sick since Monday, it’s Sunday, this is misery) and told him I couldn’t make any promises for our sex date on Tuesday, his boyfriend-like response was that I shouldn’t worry about it, that he’d be happy just to have me there with him and it would be okay with him if we just slept together. Literally. He told me he was going to take care of me. Trust me, I love it, but I have no clue what to make of it.

For some background, Kevin has only ever slept with one girl: His ex-girlfriend, Kristi. They were together for nearly 2 years. So, of course, he is under the impression that he has mastered the art of intercourse (yes, I just wrote that). And I’m sure Kristi told him he was a master of all things orgasmic. His confidence is sexy, but is confidence enough?

I’ll spare you the dirty details and just give you my thoughts. Like when I slept with the newly confident Danny, (my ex-boyfriend and dear friend from high school) I was rather disappointed with Kevin. Both Danny and Kevin swore they were going to “rock my world” and though my world may have felt a level 4 earthquake, it was hardly rocked.

Before I slept with Kevin I was a bit apprehensive to do so. To me, it’s a numbers game, and I typically don’t sleep around and I have never done the whole casual sex thing (minus that one time with Danny). But I wanted to sleep with Kevin, I was excited to sleep with Kevin, my friends even encouraged me to sleep with Kevin. Maybe he will restore your faith in men, my friend suggested. Yes, maybe he will. Maybe I can reverse the curse. What curse, you ask? The curse of Cedro.

You see, to put it gently, Cedro was the best fudgesicle I’ve ever had. He was a pro – as expected from a man who has slept with eight or nine times the number of people I have. But he was a world-rocker. A wonderful, sexy, latino world-rocker. And he ruined me. He ruined me for all other men who aren’t practiced whores. Shit man, that’s the curse.

Now that you have all the background info you need, here’s my conclusion: Men who have been in relationships for a long time may think they’re good at knocking on your door, but it’s very possible that they are not. Confidence is sexy, but I’ve quickly learned it doesn’t always prove true. Now, here’s how me being a perfect 9.5 comes into play. When I was with Cedro I never felt that I was the best fudgsicle he’d ever had, but that I was one of many rabbit holes and he was a beautiful world-rocker. But with Kevin, I sure as hell felt like a world-rocker, and I didn’t need to feel like a Cedro-slut to do so.

So thank you, Cedro, for giving me the confidence to prance around like a perfect 9.5 .. I’m sorry, a perfect TEN, as well as the ability to rock many a future world.

Now maybe I’ll be the one putting curses on men. Until then, faux-boyfriend-Kevin is adorable. He’s a nice guy and to be honest, niceness beats world-rocking any day. Hooray for saying yes to nice to the nice guy!

– – –

On an unrelated note, man-who-asked-for-my-number-on-street, let’s just call him Man X, just texted:

“Hey brat, I bet my weekend can beat up ur weekend.. Lol. You and I are chillen & making some incredible adventure happn this wk. Wat’s your schedule look like?”

I have so many issues with this. Thoughts?

The Long Con.

Remember Kevin? The insignificant three-week fling from my freshman year. The one who started texting me last Saturday night. Well the texting continued all week. Actually, it never stopped. We’re still talking. Right now.

Kevin kept up conversation just as before. He’d ask about my day, complain about his job, take interest in my hobbies, and so on and so forth. Eventually I got used to it and after a few days I was expecting his texts. One day I even initiated the conversation myself, because I knew it was coming anyways. Our conversations were long and detailed. Kevin would send me a text that looked as long as a five paragraph essay (you know, in respect to an iPhone screen). Kevin would double text (you know, when you send a text, don’t get a response and send another about something entirely different). I didn’t understand why this was happening. He wasn’t mentioning hanging out nor was he outright flirting with me.

So, because my 17 year old brother left the state for two weeks, I had to turn to my internship boys for advice. Fun fact: I may be doing this again in the future as it might be more useful to take advice from those who are my age/older than me than from my teen-aged little brother.

Anyways, I told them the situation and simply asked: Why is he texting me?

Of course, I’m not an idiot and I got the answer I expected: He wants to get with you. But why? Why me? And why has he been talking to me all week, why doesn’t he just cut to the chase?

Because, my dear naive little intern, he’s playing the long con.

Apparently, this is a tactic. I had no idea. It makes sense, really. It’s just not something I would have thought about. The long con, in my interpretation, is the act of getting what you want, well, the long way.

In reality I get it, and he’s smart for pulling it off. Had he just texted me asking to hang out right off the bat I would have immediately said no. He had to warm me up to the idea. He had to make me trust him again. Sneaky, sneaky.

But here’s the kicker – Kevin never asked me to hang out. He was just conveniently at the same bar as me Friday night. Granted, I knew he was going to be there, he knew I was going to be there, and by default, more often than not, students from my University end up at this particular bar at the end of nearly every weekend night. So I can’t be too shocked and it wasn’t exactly stalking.

At first seeing him was a bit awkward, but that quickly ended as we were both a bit drunk. Then his friends left him behind and he stayed with me. Then he asked me to dance. Then we were making out. Not as adorable and high-school-like as the story I told you last time, is it?

I want to take you home with me, he said. I want to take you home and just make-out with you and cuddle until the sun comes up. I won’t make a move, not unless you want me to. He’s good. He knows just the right things to say. And he got what he wanted. I went home with him and we kissed until the sun came up. He didn’t make a move, though I can’t say that I didn’t want him to.

Of course I asked him why on Earth he was texting me all week. I finally got the answer I wanted, the truth. He just got out of a long term relationship and wanted a girl to talk to. He realized he didn’t know many girls and he figured he’d take a shot in the dark with me. He was shocked I even responded.

Curiosity is my biggest weakness.

I’m aware that I’m his rebound, but he didn’t try to play it off that I wasn’t. So I think, I think I’m okay with that. When he asked me why I even responded to his text, I told him I was curious. And I told him I had no reason not to; he’s much nicer than the last guy I was with. *coughCEDROcough*

So let it be known that we’re still talking. Let it be known that I plan to see him again. I’m not sure if this breaks any rules, but I did say yes to a nice guy regardless of him being one brilliant con-artist.

– – –

Now, on a totally unrelated note, here’s a real triumph: A guy stopped me on the sidewalk the other day and asked for my number. This has never happened to me before. My immediate reaction was, Weirdo, why are you talking to me? But I knew if I was going to do this right, I had to be nice. Apparently he ran out of work just to come talk to me. He made a lot of awkward small talk before asking for my number. I decided it was worth a shot talking to him and it wouldn’t hurt to give the guy a chance. Maybe I’ll get a date out of this. Rule #2, accomplishment? We shall see.

Feeling like Anna Faris.

I actually have no idea what it would feel like to be Anna Faris, but I do feel like her character, Ally Darling, from last year’s What’s Your Number. If you haven’t seen it, here’s a brief recap:

Anna Faris plays a bachelorette looking for love (similar to every other chick flick ever produced). While preparing for her sister’s wedding she comes across a statistic in a magazine informing her that (supposedly) 96% of women in America who have had 20 or more sexual partners will never find a husband. Faris freaks, fearing she will become a statistic and begins tracking down all the men of her past to see if any of them will work the second time around. More importantly, the movie was filmed in Boston, the greatest city on Earth.

Now, I am no where near 20 men and no, this post is not about my number, but I have been backtracking quite a bit lately, just like Faris. Refer to my post Extreme Backsliding for more on that. But, the major difference between myself and Faris is that I’m not looking for it. Sure, with Ryan and Danny I could have prevented the backsliding and no it’s not like I just fell onto Justin’s lips, but running into Justin at an industry party was a shock and this weekend I got another unexpected surprise: a text from Kevin Kross.

The story of Kevin Kross is a rather insignificant one, but here it is nonetheless. I met Kevin my freshman year. He was a friend of a friend and we shared a class. I first developed interest in him while studying for midterms together. Kevin was fun to flirt with and easy to talk to. Soon he revealed that he liked me. At the time I was interested in Kevin, but I was more interested in someone else. I told Kevin I couldn’t get involved with him when I had strong feelings for another person. Long story short, it didn’t work out with this other guy and when it came time for finals I saw Kevin again. We were studying with a larger group of kids from our class, but as the group dwindled and people left to get some sleep, the only two remaining, seated closely on the couch, were Kevin and me. It happened in an adorable high school sort of way. While we were studying we somehow managed to get closer and closer to each other on the couch. Then we were touching hands. Then we were holding hands. Then we were alone. Then we kissed.

Kevin really wanted a girlfriend; he had made that clear from the start. So after kissing him once we were together all the time. I can’t remember the exact amount of time, but our “relationship” cumulatively lasted somewhere around three weeks. The first would be the week before finals. Then we went home for a three week winter break. The relationship maybe lasted for two more weeks once we got back from break, and then it was over.

It turned out Kevin wanted a girlfriend, but most certainly did not have time for one. Kevin was rushing a fraternity, was in the honors program, and studied mechanical engineering. With all this going on he could only manage to see me for less than an hour at a time (unless I decided to tag a long with whatever his frat boys were doing) and that, unfortunately, was not enough. Somehow, I can’t exactly remember how, but somehow a combination of Kevin’s lack of time and probably some of my craziness (freshman year wasn’t my finest) we came to a mutual decision to stop seeing one another. That was the end of that. I was probably sad about it for a week. The end.

So here we are, two and a half years later, and I receive a text from a number I don’t recognize.

“Hey”

“sorry I got a new phone who is this”

“Kevin”

“kross?”

“Ya how have you been?”

The conversation started at 12:18 am on Saturday night (or technically Sunday morning) and continued until 11:45pm last night. I was surprised to hear from him – Kevin Kross why are you texting me? But curiosity always prevails and I kept the conversation going. Of course keeping the conversation going was not very difficult considering for every two sentences I’d send, he’d send a paragraph in response. Interesting. Of course I checked his Facebook for his relationship status. I knew he had found a girlfriend, but I had no idea if they were still together. But Facebook gave me nothing in either direction, no relationship status to be found. Fortunately, finally, he mentioned her as his “now ex” and how they were going to go on a cruise together but it “obviously didn’t work out”. Sounds like a recent break up to me. I didn’t dare ask; if the boy wants to backslide my way, so be it. It’s not like this hasn’t been the recent trend of my life anyways. And Kevin’s a nice guy. I see no harm.

But my dear, sweet, universe, what on earth are you trying to tell me? Why do these ghosts of boyfriend’s past keep coming into my life?

Does it have anything to do with the awkward bride and groom figurines that appeared in my cubicle last fall?

Probably not, but these still perplex me.

If anything the universe is keeping it interesting and I think I’m okay with that. And yes, I have resorted to blaming the things I can’t explain on the universe and I blame that little factoid on Lily and Marshall. (How I Met Your Mother, anyone?).