Protected: You’re (Maybe) (Definitely Not) (Probably?) The One.

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Protected: A Certain Je Ne Sais Quoi

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Auld Lang Mine

Here it is, 16 days into the New Year. I am a month & a few days shy of my 31st birthday & I feel like this might be the year I do something besides add 27 new shows to my Netflix queue. So far though, I haven’t strayed too far from my normal habits. Coffee at bedtime, naps in the evening & falling asleep 3 times before I make it through a Downton Abbey episode. Not because I dislike it, it’s because I still cannot function above the level of a toddler.
2013 was good. It wasn’t spectacular & it didn’t suck. I donated lots of clothes, diagnosed & treated my allergy ridden dog & got a few steps closer to inventing something good enough to get myself on Shark Tank. I’d tell you what it is but I’d have to punch you in the kidney.
I recently had to look up the meaning of Auld Lang Syne because I forget it every year. It translates, or so the internet says, to ‘times gone by.’ We should remember our past friends & stuff I guess. To me it kind of translates to this: stop losing yer damn self.
Do you remember in that movie with Richard Gere & Julia Roberts, the second one, where she likes her eggs the same way that all of her lovers like their eggs? This is how I have often reacted in relationships. I am so eager to please my sig other that I lose all the things I love. Mainly naps. And eating.
I have had a lot of single time to dwell in independence. It is lonely, but it is liberating. And I will argue with any married person about it. I can see the joy one can get being married, but I can tell you why it is great to be alone. And with this understanding has come the willingness to finally, maybe, consider dipping my cankle into the pool of dating men who aren’t right for me.
A week or so ago 2 of my best girl friends and 1 of my best guy ones sat down, drank roughly 4 bottles of wine & discussed his current relationship problems. We all got intellectual via fermented grapes, I drew a timeline & we told the poor guy that ‘she’s just not that into you.’ If you could see my drawings & witty remarks on said timeline I think you’d probably agree with me. It’s so easy when you’re on this side. Talking to someone who is meddling in heartbreak is like telling yourself not to get the deep fried cheesecake after your 7 course meal for $20 at Applebees. You know you shouldn’t get it but you’re going to try to fit it all in your stomach hanging over your pants anyway.
I know this because I have found myself to be the queen of rationalizing. On my 30th birthday I wrote a blog that said something in the end about meeting a handsome stranger. Well on December 7th, 2013 I did. I went on a blind date that I thought went nothing short of perfect. It lasted for hours, he was wearing flannel, sported a beard & told me that he just wants to live in the middle of nowhere, etc. I didn’t even hear my panties dissolving.  Let’s do like a VHS & fast forward a week. I texted him to casually ask if he wanted to go to a concert coming up in January. No response. That’s cool I said. I waited until Christmas & asked him to go to drinks ‘next year,’ BECAUSE THAT IS SO FUNNY & CLEVER. No response again. I beat myself up for days about what I did wrong. Maybe it was because I got kind of drunk on our date & it didn’t go as good as I remember? Maybe it’s because he had to drive me home & I hadn’t cleaned my house because let’s face it I haven’t had man company in a while? Maybe he dropped his cell phone in the lake while ice fishing?  Maybe he fell in the lake while ice fishing? I did it until I realized that I was being a total knob. I had let all of my current comfort & happiness fall to the wayside because I was swayed by a potential lover. A whole lot of me wishes it had never happened because I wouldn’t have been distracted & inevitably sad that I once again did something wrong. But it is one more thing I have now been able to blog about. One more ‘time gone by.’ I don’t know if Robert Burns would be okay with my analogies but art is open to interpretation.
So here we all are in a brand new year. If you’re married that’s cool, please don’t write me any letters. I’m happy for you. But remember, I have to do all of the chores myself. Garbage, softener salt, the dishwasher. Give thanks for that the next time you cold shoulder your husband for not commenting on your sweet new bangs.

Here’s to 2014. The year of big things. Here’s to my dog who just licked the Shop-Vac. Here’s to all of the things.

Cheers friends,
A damsel & her dog.

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My Favorite Ex-Boyfriend

My favorite ex-boyfriend got engaged recently. My heart jumped out of a 17 story building & has been bleeding out on the sidewalk below ever since.
I knew the day was inevitably coming. He talked about her in our circle of friends while I pretended to check my phone & wished that I smoked so I could exit the conversation I wasn’t even in. I saw the announcement on Facebook, that place where all news is given these days. I didn’t even ‘like’ it or leave a ‘congratulations’ comment because, well, I’m too selfish.
I’m surprised we ever happened in the first place judging by the ass-headed way I went about it. A mutual friend of ours said he was interested in my sweet highlights & Lisa Loeb glasses so using my mad stalking skills I found his e-mail address & sent him a little electronic letter.
He called. Come again right? And then began some of the most exciting times of my twenties. We would drive around & listen to music, the smell of his cigarettes dinting the air. I helped him pick out jeans & was invited to work parties. I didn’t say much then, he intimidated me. After all, he dated a dancer & had lived in New York. I obsessively watched You’ve Got Mail & ate broccoli cheese soup like it was going out of style. We dated 3 times over a number of years. In those years I learned how to tip properly, how to match my socks to my outfit & that it’s not that big of a deal to go to the big city to catch some shows.
The first 2 times we were together, he dumped me. After the second time, I packed up my bags & moved to Alaska. A few days into my journey to the biggest state in the land, we were together again. He came to visit me. Everything was sunshine & rainbows shitting more sunshine & rainbow babies. The bliss lasted for a few months. Then I made friends & a 3 hour time difference was starting to meddle in the way of being in love. And then I did what any person does in a perfectly perfect relationship: I dumped him & started dating a total nozzle.
Since that day I have wondered if I made the right decision. I still don’t know. The only thing I do know is that I got my giant-hippopotamus-sometimes-asshole-but-i-love-him-so-much-dog out of the situation & I can’t trade him for anything. Not even beef jerky.
When I moved back within a mile of MFEB we hung out sometimes. This was after my train-wreck of a near 4 year period with the nozzle ended. We would drink in his garage or he would watch me bake cupcakes. I wanted to do it all over again, but I couldn’t. I have now turned into the man of every relationship & all boys to me seem to act like huge vaginas. He wanted to take me out on a date & I liked being alone. For the first time in the length of a DMV line, I was doing what I actually felt was appropriate. I was hoping he’d wait but I knew he wouldn’t, he wasn’t the waiting kind.
I thought about writing him, to tell him I was happy he was happy. I haven’t done that yet. But I did this. This is my attempt at saying a total adios to the boy who taught me the beginnings of everything. Though I know I will do as I always do, & never fully commit.
Here, have a sad song, sung by one of our favorite road-trip companions.

Cheers friends,
-a damsel & her dog-

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Protected: Happy Re-Birthday

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Protected: Richard Marx Was Right.

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