In Which We Find Ourselves Married

FINE. I'll write something, because I know you all have been basically DYING to know what has been going on with my life.

While there have been a great many things written on being married, and I’m sure that I won’t be the most eloquent or elegant of all the offerings, I’m going to wax poetic anyway.  You’re welcome.

First of all, it’s awesome.  Dating Mr. Wildcard (whom we will refer to as The Husband or TH going forward) was awesome, but being married is a greater awesome.  There is no ambiguity. There is no “what’s the next step.”  It’s solid: it’s a marriage.  It’s continual.  He’s supportive, comforting and challenges me.  He is my greatest blessing and my wubbles.  Getting all those things, from a person you adore, is a gift.

Secondly, it’s hard. Duh.  Marriage is hard. And not in a bad way – in a really fulfilling, work through it kind of way.  Although, I can tell you how NOT FUN it is to discuss how we’re going to file taxes.

Thirdly, fourthly and fifthly, it’s hard.

Have I mentioned it’s hard?

Before we all get our knickers in a twist over my commentary, when I said it’s hard, it’s because IT IS.  Arguing or being in a committed relationship isn’t what’s difficult – in fact, that’s easy in comparison.  Putting two lives together is hard. Putting two completely separate systems and ways of doing things into one is hard. Having two minorly stubborn 30 year olds with lots of individual responsibilities and commitments join together IS HARD.

There are a few dozen other things that need to be worked out when you get married. Logistical garbage that is not at all interesting. Who takes out the trash? (We both try.) Who does the laundry? (Well, I actually like doing the laundry…) Who takes care of the dishes? (Ugh, dishes. My archnemesis.)  I would love to just gloss over these decisions, but YOU HAVE TO TALK ABOUT THEM. And if you don’t discuss these “tiny” things, they can grow into huge issues. 

(Yes, dishes can become a point of contention. Of course, this was mainly between my parents and me during my teen years.  It was a dark time.)

I like to plan things a little in advance and put it on the calendar. I leave a few do-nothing days in there, in case anything interesting or fun pops up.  (Read interesting and fun as: I want to sleep late and watch entire seasons of Gilmore Girls.)  He hates planning.  He would rather not use a calendar.  He will randomly decide to go do something on the spur of the moment.  Sure, neither way is better than the other, but they are opposite and, occasionally, annoying to the other person.

I also like to go to bed with the TV on.  He disagrees. Negotiations are still in process.

These are the kind of things that you don’t discuss before getting married.  You talk about big ticket items: debt (my bad, TH, but I really loved school), kids, where you’ll live, religion or political views.  You don’t talk about how you absolutely need the towels to be folded this certain way or the earth will stop rotating.  You forget to mention that you can only use one particular detergent because…well, just because.  You neglect to inform your poor spouse that dishes give you flashbacks to a time when you didn’t have a dishwasher and your mother liked to drink milk, but left a little in the glass and it was ALWAYS at the bottom of the gigantic pile, meaning that it had been sitting, growing penicillin and other bacteria, for approximately a week and you were forced to wash the entire pile WITHOUT GLOVES. (That’s gotta be against some law, right? It’s clearly child endangerment of some type.) 

It’s a learning process. Luckily, I'm a good student.  I have grasped how to say, “I’m sorry” in a new, interesting and fresh ways.  (You know, I went to school for an EXTREMELY long time, but they never covered that topic…I feel like I should get some kind of refund.)

All the changes, all the compromises, all the adjustments - this is why the first year of marriage is the hardest.

Hard?  Yes.

Impossible? Of course, not.

TH is my person.  My forever person.  Putting our two fleshed out lives together has been hard, but it’s also been gratifying, rewarding, sustaining, reassuring and fully satisfying.  It has been completely and totally worth all those changes, compromises and adjustments.  I’d gladly do it again, if it meant getting to be with ol’ TH.

So, maybe I’ll turn off the TV at night and maybe he’ll plan a dinner a week or two in advance. 

Maybe I’ll even wash the dishes… 

HA. Kidding. PAPER PLATES 4 LYFE.  (Again, sorry TH.  The dishes are your burden to bear.)

~j

Better Late Than Never

Well, would you look at that...I still have a blog. 

And I have an answer to "what happens when I date" too.

Valentine's Day is approaching and I thought I would pick this thing back up again, because it seems timely and appropriate.  I then realized I'm a bad, inconsistent blogger.  I haven't written since August and that seems totally unfair to all of you, because I know you're so desperate to read & know about my life.  Let's start with the biggest thing first, shall we?

I'm engaged. 

Shocked, are we? I know.  So was I.  It's true.  Someone (Mr. Wild Card, to be exact) asked me to put on a weighty and absurdly expensive white dress and legally bind myself to him.  He's gotta be crazy.

We'll be getting married this fall and I'm in the process of planning now.  Note: by "planning", I mean getting completely overwhelmed by the sheer number of decisions I have to make and instead of doing that, watching endless episodes of Army Wives from the comfort of my bed.  It's bizarre to think that this time next year when I'm apologizing for not writing more, I'll be a wife to a man who gladly deals with me crying because Mission Burrito forgot to put shrimp in my bowl.  Wow.  Bananas.

And yet, I'm still not really sure how I got here.  I have a ring on my hitchin' finger and a guy who loves me consistently and fully.  I feel like the girl who was unsure of whether or not she was going on a date is a stranger.  I'm more self-assured and confident.  I'm less weary and wandering.  I've grown.  I'm more of me than I have been in a very, very long time.  How did I change into this person from the one I was?  I can say, without hesitation, that love grew me.  Love mended me.  Love righted me.

While none of my change is simply because Mr. Wild Card gave me a ridiculously gorgeous piece of jewelry, the love from someone who loves me absolutely and unconditionally has caused my heart to overflow with happiness and contentment.  Having someone love me as I love them is the most perfect and honest thing that this life has given me so far.  The way Mr. Wild Card cares for me is unselfish and unabashed.  My fear of abandonment fades with each passing day.

See friends, this kind of love is the kind that God wants for us.  This kind and patient love. This honest and true love.  This is the love that we are to yearn for - not the kind of love that fades away with time or distance.  Not the kind of love that simply makes us feel good.  Not the kind of disposable or manufactured love that the world shows us. 

The romantic love Christ has intended for us, the kind bound in honor and founded in sacrifice, is the kind of love that can be transformative and boundless.  Just like His love for us. How did it take me so long to see that?

I've found my forever person.  That, my friends, is what happens when I date.

~j

I Choose Flight

Yesterday was just a day. After work, I went and met some friends at this hipster bingo thing that happens in town.  We ate tacos.  We made jokes.  We dobbed our bingo cards. One of us won money.  All regular and unimportant.

Then, as I headed for the bathroom before going home, I saw The Kid.  My eyes got big, I stopped dead in my tracks and my brain ceased to function.  Full bladder be darned, I turned right around and half-ran back to my friends and begged that we exit through a side door to avoid him. 

The Kid is a youngster I went out with a few times, but it didn't work out for reasons too numerous to mention.  (I actually wrote about him, here.)  The thing that stuck with me, though, is how it ended.  We had stopped talking and then he made this big gesture, so I gave him a second chance.  It backfired.  The whole thing ended abruptly and left me with a few hurt feelings.  It was a blight on my impeccable dating record. *cue laugh track*  (I, of course, came out on the other side of it as a winner, because I met Mr. Wild Card a few weeks later.)

I haven't really thought about The Kid in a LONG time and I don't harbor any ill-will or bad feelings toward him, but seeing him standing there threw me into a loop.  The feeling was similar to seeing your teacher outside of school; one of those "but you not supposed to be HERE" kind of thoughts.  In a city of 5+ million, I run into him of all people?  At least I had an escape route and supportive friends.

After I got home, I got a text from a number I didn't know.  *DUN DUN DUMMMM* THE KID! HE TEXTED!  It read something like, "Sorry if that was awkward seeing you tonight. I saw you earlier, but decided not to say hi."  My response? "Well, it was awkward, but it happens. Hope you had fun!"  I was cool, guys!  So what if I had high-tailed it away from him, red-faced? I made up for it with a breezy, no-worries text.  All was good in the land of Jeana.

When I woke up this morning, I had this heavy regret about how I handled the situation.  Why didn't I just give him my goofy, half-crooked, smirky smile and say a "hey" in passing?  It's been nearly a year since I saw him, I'm over the whole thing completely and he was there with someone else, so what would have happened?  I didn't have to have a conversation, but I could've been cordial or more nonchalant.  Instead, I turned on my heel and speed-walked to the other end of the building and left him to be the one to be the bigger person.

Maybe that exact thing is what's causing my remorse: in my mind, he won.  Couldn't he have just acted like he didn't see me, like I was attempting to do?  Oh, no, he couldn't.  He had to apologize for the weirdness, like a nice person. BLESS IT!   What would I have lost by being normal?  Why couldn't I have just sucked it up and lived through the moment of awkwardness and gone on with my life, guilt-free? 

Because I'm a chicken, that's why.

The battle of fight or flight was waged and I fled.

But, I'm ok with that chickenhood.  I think anyone in my position could see the beauty to my plan for avoidance.  Plus there's always a next time, right?  (I take that back. I really hope there isn't a next time.  REALLY HOPE.)

~j

Madness: A Rant About The Bachelorette

I've already written about my general hatred for The Bachelorette (you can find it here), but the ending of this season as GONE TOO FAR. I waited to write about it, mainly so I'd be less angry, but I'm still annoyed.  I was so furious and confounded that it has carried over for weeks.

Why am I so irate when I don't even watch the show, you ask?

Because Desiree Hartsock is making a GIANT mistake.  And young girls think that's ok.

Here's a quick recap for those not in the know:
Desiree was really into this one guy.  He was basically the only person she was interested in of the three guys she had left.  She was going to pick HIM.  She knew it, we knew, Chris Harrison knew it, the camera crew knew it - I think the only two who didn't were the other dudes.  It was obvious to anyone watching.

Then the unthinkable happened; after some soul-searching, the ONE left the show.  He said he couldn't propose to her, that he had to leave.  Desiree was devastated.  *cue sad music* She didn't know if she go on with the show, because her true love, her prince charming had left her. Her heart was shattered into a million pieces.

Luckily, she got it together enough to continue and accept another proposal from one of the two leftovers. OH GOOD.

And this, my friends, is my HUGE issue.  She was so certain that Guy A was THE ONE and when he left, he was easily replaced by The Backup.  She didn't hesitate to say yes.  WHAT THE WHAT?!?!?

Here is a girl who was yearning for this one particular guy, who thought that this guy was her soulmate, who almost couldn't go on AND YET she said yes to someone else when they proposed just 48 hours later.  I understand what it's like to want to be married, to have a husband and start a family, but I can assuredly say I would not say yes to someone simply because they asked.  Working under the pretense that you should say yes simply because you're asked is wrong, wrong, wrong.  Saying yes because you're desperate to be married is equally wrong.  I wanted to say,  "It's okay Desiree, you can walk away from the show single, I promise!"

I almost get her mentality.  Guy B (Backup/new Fiance) was nice, was really into her and he's not bad, so why not try it out and see if it works.  I'll tell ya why - because you're ENGAGED. That's weighty, man. That's a promise, an agreement, to marry one day.  That's pressure.  Who cares if he asked?  She could've said, "You know what? I'm not ready for this big commitment, but I didn't give you enough of my attention and I think you're pretty great.  Let's try dating and see what happens."  But, wait, I forgot, this is 'reality TV' and normal behavior is suspended.

In the end, I feel like she is going to hurt her new fiance.  She was so intent on having a good ending, she made one happen, possibly at the expense of this sweet, poetry writing guy.

A person can not, in real life, just jump from one intense relationship to another and have everything work out.  Yeah, yeah, I know you want to share exceptions, but I'm talking majority things here.  Your heart and mind can't flip like that.  On the reunion show, I felt as if the original THE ONE guy had asked her to marry him, she would have turned to the Backup and said, "Welp, it's been nice."  I think Backup/Fiance dude felt the same (at least his face looked that way).  It made me feel sad and uncomfortable for him and upset with her. 

Take some time between relationships.  Don't rush in.  Don't make big commitments when you know your heart hasn't had time to catch up.  Don't hurt people in order to make yourself feel good for the moment.  THINK.

Oh, and don't go on a reality dating show.

~j

This Guy I Know: A Cautionary Tale

There is this guy I know, who this thing happened to and I thought I'd share it with you.

See, Bill* was chronically single (see also: me, prior to Mr. Wild Card).  He is a regular guy with a decent job; there's nothing remarkably wrong with him - I mean, his personality isn't for everyone, but he's not a bad guy.  I think it was difficult for Bill to find someone he connected with because of his mildly awkward & peculiar nature, but he kept trying. 

To be honest, I envied him a little.  Bill took rejection well.  When a relationship didn't work out, he wouldn't let it affect him. Faced with the same situation, I would probably lay on the floor in a dark room listening to a Smiths/The Cure remix on repeat and question if love still existed.

He even asked me for advice after hearing that I was attempting online dating for the blog.  I happily gave it to him and the next thing I knew, he was in a relationship with someone he seemed to get along with well.  I started seeing Mr. Wild Card shortly after that and there we all were, a picture of happiness and contentment. 

All I heard were good things about this girl.  She made him visibly happy (and much more pleasant). After six months of dating, Bill thought he was in love (well, he probably WAS in love) and decided to propose in a really interesting way, something really specific to her tastes.  He even had a ring made in a style she loved that was incredibly unique; no one else would have this ring.  I thought it was so sweet how he planned out every detail, how he had tailored it to her tastes.  She would HAVE to say yes.

And she did say yes...well, she said yes until she took it back.

I felt horrible when I heard the engagement had ended.  He was so excited!  He was telling everyone about what he wanted the wedding to be like and how utterly excited he was through with dating.  How did this happen?  Bill was shattered.  WHAT KIND OF TERRIBLE PERSON DOES THIS?

She apparently felt like she was too young (SHE'S OLDER THAN ME) to be married and wasn't interested in planning a life with someone right now because she wants to be selfish.

Ick.

Then I remembered something Bill had mentioned in passing the week before the proposal: they hadn't discussed marriage at all.  Not even a little.  Isn't that something you customarily do before you go to all the effort of an extravagant proposal?  He had to have been confident she would say yes, but wouldn't a reasonable person broach the subject beforehand?  It was foreshadowing.

(And just so you know, Mr. Wild Card knows I'm heavily in favor and an advocate of marriage.)

I possibly nailed something on the head a bit earlier when I said, "She would HAVE to say yes."  See, Bill asked her in front of a crowd of people during a weekend away together.  Who would want to say no in a situation like that?  She probably felt pressure to say yes.  She did later sit down with him, privately, and explain how she couldn't go through with it, simply to save having to have a difficult conversation.  It saved her from being unhappy in a marriage she didn't want and, in turn, making Bill unhappy.

This story highlights how important COMMUNICATION is in an relationship.  If Bill had brought up the subject of marriage seriously, his girl might have given him some indication that she just wasn't ready to advance down that path.  One small conversation may have helped Bill to cool his jets and just enjoy their time together, instead of making a big leap to the marriage question.  

So, talk to each other. Ask questions, even the hard ones.  Otherwise, you might end up like Bill: alone with a pricey piece of jewelry.

~j

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent and their opinion of me.

Heart, Rainbows, Sunshine & Unicorn Poop: An Update

It's been a hot minute since I wrote a post, hasn't it?

I'm sorry guys, I really am.  I guess I've been so deliriously happy in my relationship with Mr. Wild Card that the need for writing a dating blog has dwindled to basically nothing.  (Note: Mr.Wild Card takes great pleasure in saying he's single-handedly 'killed' the blog.)

Don't get me wrong, W.C. and I have the occasional disagreement, but most of the tifts we have rarely last more than a few hours.  I have to give him most of the credit for that, because I'm weirdly stubborn.  You wouldn't think that by looking at me, since I have essentially zero willpower, but I can give a world-class silent treatment.  If we are huffy at one another for too long, he'll approach me with gentleness and tell me he can't go the rest of the day upset.  I finally found someone who can meet me on a level where I don't want to give up or walk away; he makes me want to try!  Even when I'm being annoying. (Which is VERY, VERY RARE.)

He's good about wanting to work out issues and I'm working on not avoiding those issues by shutting down.  I'm good at scheduling and staying on top of commitments/generally being responsible and he's working on being more responsible.  He's making me better and he'll tell you that it's the other way around.  He takes care of my automobillllleee (DONG! DONG! GRANDPA'S TALKING TO YOU!*) and I take care of his household chores.  He makes me laugh and I make him weep with my wit.  It's fun.  I feel loved.

Bonus: Everyone I introduce him to likes him.  He's friendly, easy-going and congenial. What's more, the people he makes lets me meet somehow like me too. (No, I don't know how that happened either.  I didn't even have to pay them!)

All of that is to say, he's the best and this is probably the most healthy, two-sided relationship I've been in.

Honest.

BUT we're not perfect.

In the past couple of months, I struggled with writing truthfully about everything because I didn't know what would overstep boundaries and if what I wrote might upset the most important person to me.  So, I chose not to, instead leaving the blog unwritten.

We do have struggles.  Naturally, we should.  We're two different people who've been living selfishly for a lot of our adult lives; we only had to consider ourselves for years.  There is a difficulty that comes with that and I want to share those things with you guys, because I want to be forthright and show both sides. There is a catch though: if I wrote about every argument we have, that wouldn't be fair to him, me, our relationship or even to you, reader.

I'm choosing not to use this blog as a means to vent when he does something dumb, mainly because for every 1 dumb thing he does I do 17.  I'm going to be picky about what I share and I'm hopeful you'll respect that.  Just remember I'm the one writing it, from my point of view and as judicious or unbiased as I try to be, it's still my perspective.

Happily,
J

*Sorry for the reference, I couldn't help myself.


 

The Guy Who Said I Love You...After An Hour

*Preface: TO ALL MY YOUNG READERS: CONSIDER THIS A CAUTIONARY TALE! DON'T DRINK!  Well, you shouldn't be drinking anyway, but you get the point.*

A few weeks ago, I had a much needed girls' night with some of my favorite ladies.  We went and painted at one of those 'have a glass (or seven) of wine and paint this *insert inanimate object here*' places, which was surprisingly fun.  Afterward, we headed to a place where we could karaoke.  It was turning out to be a frightfully normal night.

Cut to a couple of hours into our outing - scene opens on me sitting at a table with one of the girls, making fun of people and generally minding my own business.  Another girl has stopped and is talking to a few of the other patrons; one of those patrons happens to be Drunky McGee, the hero out our story.  Drunky McGee, the skinny, dorky, obviously intoxicated guy who hit on me.  Drunky McGee, the poor soul who has gone down in my personal history as the guy who said 'I Love You,' after knowing me for a nanosecond.

When I hang out with my friends, I'm silly and loud.  I laugh a lot.  I talk to strangers in accents.  I have a fun time.  That means I usually strike up a conversation with people who approach me - you never know who you're going to meet!  (What is that old saying?  Everyone's a stranger until you meet them?  I live by that.)  So, when Drunky McGee sidled up to me and start to chat, I didn't think anything of it.  Until he grabbed my hand and started holding it.

I should have run away right then, but I didn't.  I chalked it up to the guy having a few too many beers, pulled my hand away and jumped up on stage to sing a tragic rendition of 'Lady Marmalade.'  While we were away from the table, a friend of my friends' told Drunky McGee that I had a boyfriend.  Ol' Drunky accosted me when I headed to the restroom and asked me if it was true.  I confirmed his suspicions.  He teared up.  HE ACTUALLY TEARED UP.  He went back to his table and I went on to the restroom where some girl told me all about her issues.  (It was a fun night, all around.)

Then it gets interesting - he stopped me while I was walking back to my table and said he didn't believe me.  He couldn't believe me.  I was lying!  He knew he was supposed to meet me and I was 'pushing' him away.  I kept trying to leave and he kept grabbing my arm.  (Internal dialogue: Oh Lawd, what have I gotten myself into now?)  I told him to ask my friends, but then an idea hit me: I needed to mess with this guy.  I was going to be a little crazy with him, in the hopes that he would run in the opposite direction.

As Drunky was asking my friends if I was in a relationship, they responded with a 'yes,' until I gave them a weird look.  One of them stuttered and stopped, saying something like, "Well, she did last week, so unless something happened..." 

That segue lead me perfectly into my best fake-crazy speech of all time.  It was an Oscar worthy soliloquy.  I summoned tears to my eyes and said in a shaky voice: "I'm in love with him, but I CAN'T handle it!  What do you do when you LOOOOOOVE someone so much, but can't come to terms with it?  Maybe I just need to be single! BUT I'm no good single!  I'm a good girlfriend!  I think about him ALL. THE. TIME. But does he think about me?!?!  He's so handsome and wonderful and I'm just awful!  Do you think I'm awful?  Aren't I just the worst??  WAIT! Don't answer that!  I couldn't handle if I disappointed ANOTHER person.  I just don't see why he would like me." 

Then I walked away.

It seemed to work.  Success!  I didn't see him for the rest of the night!  Until we left, that is.

As we were getting ready leave, I feel an arm around me.  It's Drunky, ready to talk.  He leans up to my ear and, well,  here's an excerpt of our (honest-to-God) conversation for your reading pleasure:

Drunky McGee: "Have you ever known that you met someone for a reason?"

Me: "Yes. Most of the time, I'm wrong."    

DM: "Have you ever felt like something is so right?"

Me: "Yeah!  These jeans I have on!  As soon as I put them on, I just knew they'd be my new favorites.  That's about it."

DM: *garbled*

Me: "Huh?"

DM: "I love you."

Me: "Oh, honey. No, no. Oh, you are drunk."

DM: "No, I'm in love with you."

Me: "Oh, honey, you won't even remember this tomorrow."

DM: "Let me come home with you.  I just want to wake up and have you there."

Me: "Oh, sweetie.  Where are your friends? You need to leave.  You need a good sleep."

DM: "I need you."

Luckily, I was saved by another friend who had been talking to Drunky earlier in the night.  I snuck out and haven't seen him since.  I assume he woke up with a raging (and well-deserved) hangover and didn't remember a single thing.

I'm just going to go out on a limb and say I think Drunky McGee had some emotional issues.  I know that alcohol impedes your ability to filter yourself, but it seemed to extended far beyond the regular things I encounter.  I was astounded.  I didn't understand where that even came from; maybe it worked on other girls?  Maybe he was trying to hustle me?  Who knows! 

Honesty moment: I also felt preeeeetty good about myself.  Some dude was all in love with me and whatnot, after just an hour.  *pats self on back*

~j

The Epihany

I'm a worrier.

Some of you know this, some of you have found this out reading the blog and some of you have no idea.  Often, when something causes me to worry, I sit and just think about and stew over the circumstances surrounding the thing that's making me have worried face.  (You know the face: furrowed brow, far-away look in the eyes, biting of the lip.)  I spin it over and over in my head, looking at it from different angles, trying to explain what happened, trying to reason out why it happened, trying to figure out how it fix it.

My worrying occasionally consumes me.

And it really annoys Mr. Wild Card.

I found myself worrying over an ex-girlfriend on Mr. Wild Card a few months ago.  We were spending lots of time together and I was learning more about his past.  The more I learned about his relationship with a particular ex, the more it seemed like the break up didn't make sense.  Mr. WC assured me that it had been coming to the point in the relationship where it needed to end, but I knew that she definitely didn't want the break up to happen.  I sat on this for a little while and then, slowly, but surely, a seed of doubt and worry grew into a full-blown plant.

Yes, I know what you're already thinking: HE BROKE UP WITH HER, YOU DUMMY.  HE'S DATING YOU NOW.  IF HE WANTED TO DATE HER, HE WOULD BE.

Trust me, guys.  I tried telling myself that, but my brain went bananas.  I started comparing myself to her (save your commentary, I already know that was stupid) and began to feel threatened by someone who Mr. WC no longer wanted to date.  All the positive self-talk I could muster wasn't helping.  I was stuck in the wasteland of uncertainty, a place I had created for myself.

Then, one day, as I was talking to someone about a completely different topic, it hit me: Mr. WC feels about his ex like I feel about E-Mail Man, my last boyfriend. 

E-Mail Man was someone who I talked about marriage with, someone who I thought about building a family with and then it ended.  He's a perfectly nice person, but he just wasn't MY person.  There wasn't anything 'wrong' with the relationship per se, but we were really different.  Too different, as it turns out.  But when E-Mail Man and I started dating, it was such a breath of fresh air to find someone who wasn't crazy, was well-spoken, was normal and nice that we tried to make it work because there wasn't anything glaringly wrong.  Maybe there wasn't anything particularly wrong with Mr. WC and his ex, but it wasn't right either.  What a mind-melter connection.

Mr. Wild Card had told me several times exactly what I finally understood, but I just didn't hear him.  And, what's worse, I didn't tell him what I was thinking about - which could have eliminated all my concerns in one swoop.  I let my self-doubt get in the way and I let my negative thoughts take over.  Why did I do that?  Because I couldn't deal with the fact that someone so great and compatible is in my life and I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop?  Am I really that cynical?

Once I had my own Oprah "A-ha" moment, I struck a deal with myself: don't worry about things that aren't an issue and don't make an issue out of things that aren't even on the radar.  Constantly waiting for everything to fall apart is not the way God wants me to live my life.  It's freeing, really.  I'm still working on it and I still fail at it, but I'm trying.

I'm actually trying.  I'm making an effort.  Geez, I'm must be in love.

~j

Books Covers: Getting Judged By Me Since 1982

Wow - I almost forgot that I had a blog for a second!  Actually, that's a lie.  I get reminded at least once a week that I have taken what appears to be a blogging sabbatical and that I'm not keeping true to my "one entry a week" agreement.  My apologizes.  I've been busy happy (and popular and awesome and, duh, humble) and I've been neglecting you, gentle reader. 

(Here's a quick recap of my life: everything is pretty great.  Work is good, family is good, friends are good, the bf is good, my social networking is good.  Life is, well, good.  Everything is aligning.  I've, literally, got nothing much to complain about.  I like it that way.)

In thinking about what I wanted to cover in today's entry, I remembered a friend of mine - we'll call him Dating Dan - who just went on a date this weekend.  The date was, by all circumstantial evidence, set up to be perfectly romantic.  The problem?  He just wasn't into his date.  Like, at all.

While I'll leave the details of the date for another entry (suspenseful and totally annoying, I know), the fact was that Dan called me and told me that he was worried about his date before it actually happened.  There was an impending sense of doom surrounding the date, not just the typical butterflies.  Dan had been talking to this person for a few weeks before they actually met and got to know his date fairly well.  He related to me that he was just not sure about how it would work out.

Dan told me his what concerns were and I pushed them off to the side, encouraging him to just go out with this person who was obviously interested in him and see what happens. Why did I do this?  It wasn't just because I wanted one of my friends to go on a date, but it was because I didn't want to be judgmental.

You see, I'm so bad about making snap decisions about people that I'm making a conscious effort to do just the opposite.  I mean, thinking about the first date with Mr. Wild Card, I would have never thought I would end up dating him in the long run.  (I think I even tweeted about the fact that he may or may not have drank a little too much?  Sorry about that one, Mr. WC!)  I really thought I would just have one or two dates with him and nothing much would amount from it.  I was definitely wrong.  I didn't want the same thing to happen to Dan! I didn't want him to lose out on a potentially great person because of a few awkward phone conversations.

Even though I told him to go out and enjoy himself, inside I was screaming - 'Don't waste your time!  You already kind of hate this person!  Don't waste their time!  They sound like such an annoying person!  Seriously, they are going to bother me.  I don't want to have to hang out with an annoying person!  And if you date them, I'll have to!  Think about me!'

But I didn't say that, because I wanted to give Dan an opportunity at finding romance with someone he might have overlooked.

I was wrong. 

The moral here: always go with your instincts.  Dan gave his date a fighting chance, but he just wasn't feeling it.  He knew that he prior to the date, but went anyway, on my advice.

I guess I should go back to judging people - after all, it just feels right.

~J 

Is This Real Life? Why, Yes. Yes, It Is.

I genuinely enjoy Valentine's Day.  I loved it even when I didn't have anyone to call my Valentine.  All the candies and flowers and happiness that float around make me feel full in the typically cold quadrant of my chest where my heart should be.  Maybe it's the optimist (that sometimes comes to visit) in me that makes me all mushy, but I can't help it.  I LOVE love.

And this year, I'm worse.

I'm in a post-Valentine's dreamland, where everything is fluffy bunnies and the world is throwing up rainbows.

The boyfriend (Mr. Wildcard) sent me a spectacular, just right for me, surprise Valentine.  I was speechless.  Okay, okay, maybe not speechless.  I kind of yelped and carried on and was VERY LOUD, but the sentiment was still the same.  Someone cared enough for me to send an incredible, memory-making present.  Basically, Mr. Wildcard hit it out of the park, definitively.

Here is the part where I usually go on and on about how I couldn't believe someone would go out of their way for me, but this year it's different.  I've found someone who loves me the way I should be loved.  Someone who cares for me the same way I do for them.  I appreciate the effort and the thought  behind his gift immensely and I'm wowed, but at the same time I deserve this happiness.

When someone does something nice for us, we sometimes think, "Why? Why would they do that for me?"  That's not the point.  The point is they did it because you're worth it.  When you become concerned with the 'why's' you miss everything that is so great about that moment.  Just sit back and know that they did what they did for you because they probably think you're just as awesome as you think they are.

As much as I talk about how great I am, I don't really rate myself well.  I mean, sure I'm comfortable in lots of situations, smartish, pretty in a Drew Barrymore/goofy face kinda way, tall, subversively comedic, good with strangers, polite, thoughtful, have nice penmanship and about 10,000+ other wonderful things...wait, what was I saying?

In all honesty, I'm always astounded when someone wants to date me.  I don't get it, but the cool part is, I don't have to.  Mr. Wildcard doesn't love me in spite of my dorkiness, disproportionally loud laugh and crooked smile, he kinda loves me because of those things.  And who am I to argue?

Accept the love you're given.  Give the love you feel.

It's as simple as that.

~j

Now You See Him, Now You Don't

Some guys are really good at what I call "The Disappearing Act."  I'm not sure if they watched too many reruns of 'Breaking The Magician's Code' or if they want to have a Vegas act someday, but a few of them have perfected the art of vaporization.  They were around, active, interested and then, *poof* they're gone. Lame.

I started thinking hard about this when a friend from college related a story to me about this guy she was dating.  (A little backstory on her: She's sweet, kind, smart and thoughtful. She once bought me a DVD of our favorite Keri Russell TV movie-which I still have. She is a delight, I tell you.)  Basically, everything was fine and then he stopped returning her texts/calls.  He just vanished.  Barring his actual death/dismemberment - which I have not been informed of - there really isn't a reason to all of a sudden stop communicating with someone.

And let me clarify something for you; this was an ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP.  They were official on the Facebook.  He sent her flowers multiple times.  They went on frequent dates.  Everything was just peachy keen, from what I understand.  They talked about having dinner on a Saturday and when she checked in with him on that Saturday, he never texted her back.  He didn't follow up with her the next day either.  She finally called and left him a message that basically said, "Hey, if you're done, that's cool.  I don't want to be in a relationship with someone who doesn't want to be in one with me."  And she STILL didn't hear anything.

I don't get it.  If, at any point, you don't want to date someone anymore, why don't you just vocalize your problem?  Anything could have happened to him, as far as I know.  He could've been abducted my aliens.  He could've been struck with a hammer causing a case of amnesia.  He could've been recruited to the CIA.  He could've been placed in the Witness Protection Program.  A million things could have happened, but how likely is that?  I give the listed things the same odds as I give the chance of John Cusack meeting me and falling madly in love: 0.000000001%.  (Although we can all agree, if he did meet me he would be endlessly charmed and surely would fall in love, can't we?)

I just think he stopped calling because he was a coward. 

And he's not the only one of his kind out there.  If you don't want to have a relationship with someone, just say so.  Sit down and have an honest conversation with that person.  They might hate you at that moment, but in the end they don't have to question what happened.  They know.  There is a definitive answer.  It's the only fair thing to do.

Listen, I understand that some people avoid confrontation and awkward conversations like I avoid the guy selling those hair straighteners in the mall.  No one wants to have to broach that topic, no one wants to be the bad guy.  I get it.  I wouldn't want to have a conversation like that either, but what is the point of treating someone you liked at some point (we hope) so callously?  By just evaporating, I think the person experiences a greater heartache.  They sit there and think that they were too forgettable or unimportant for a phone call.  How cruel.

Do the right thing, vanishers.  Sit down.  Talk.  Be the 'bad guy' for a split second.  You'll be glad you did.

~J

That's How The Cat Was Killed

A few weeks ago, Mr. Wild Card and I got into our first fight.  Wait...let me clarify: by fight, I mean, I yelled at him, he really didn't know what I was mad about and oooooh, was I mad.  This is where you're like, 'Ooh, gurl! What did he do?,' but it's not that simple.  In fact, I kind of had no leg to stand on, when you get down to it.

Here's a Cliff's Notes version of events for you:

We had a great night.  Really, we did.  It was New Years' Eve and we were out with people we liked and everything was perfect.  My heart was exploding in sincere thankfulness that I got to spend such a super evening with someone I was growing to love.  We tweeted our affections to each other.  We kissed at midnight.  We shared the first moments of 2013 together.  It was a good memory-making night.

At the very end of the night, I somehow winded up with possession of his phone.  I mean, he hands me his phone all the time - it wasn't any different than usual.  Now, I'm not a snooper (yes, I know every girl says that, but I really try not to be) and he tells me everything, so I had no reason to be concerned anyway.  I have never felt, not a single time, that he wasn't telling me the truth.   

Anyway, back to the phone: I flipped through his pictures, looking for one we took together, so I could send it to myself and post it to Instagram.  I found it and went to close the phone, when IT happened.  I promise you that it was an accident.  I swear on my cardigan collection, I wasn't looking for anything.

I'm not sure how (my clumsy Yeti fingers are at fault, I'm sure), but I ended up in his text message.  (Hey, hey, it's a common mistake.  Isn't it?  *gulp* Yes, I'm aware of how bad this sounds.) I ended up seeing a message from him to one of his friends and it hurt my feelings.  It wasn't anything too terrible and had been written a really long time before, but it still made me sad and angry.  The problem? I shouldn't have been looking at the messages in the first place.

Let me put this into context for you:  I was reading the things his friend was writing (which was about their relationship) and it was getting interesting.  He was saying super nice things about me and how his family liked me and how I'm so great (I'd go on about all that, but you're already aware of my good points, so I'll move on). I mean, I had to DIG through the messages to get to the bad one.  Like, load the page a few dozen times.  Bad Jeana. So, so bad.

I was like a person possessed.  I couldn't stop.  I'd never had that inclination before and it was a hard realization that I had invaded his privacy.  It didn't matter what he said to his friend, that was between his friend and him and was written in confidence.  I wasn't supposed to see it.  I took things out of context and just railed on him.  It came out of nowhere for him on a night that was otherwise terrific.  I spoiled it because I got nosy.

Now, he's not completely faultless here.  He did something that warranted my anger, but it's almost a Catch 22: I wouldn't have been angry if I didn't let my curiosity be my guide.  The whole thing wouldn't have happened if I has just stepped away from the phone.  I learned a really hard lesson here: the only thing you gain by violating someone's trust is guilt.  Maybe you don't know about something for a reason, a good reason.  Maybe it's saving you some grief and overthinking.  All truths come out eventually, right?

Even from this bump, something good happened: Mr. Wild Card and I got closer.  We worked through it.  He was patient with my hesitation.  He didn't hold my clear invasion of his personal property against me, in fact, he apologized.  He never even got mad.  He had every right to be upset with me going through his stuff, but he chose not to and I'm not sure why.  He's way better at this whole dating thing than I am, obviously.

Everyone, no matter how much they usually aren't, can be nosy.  They can go past their typical boundaries and be a snoop.  And then there are other people who are just snooptacular.  They are like private investigators.  Either way, you've got to fight that feeling. You've got to understand that if you're supposed to know something, you'll be told eventually.  You've got to let trust rule.  A relationship just isn't going to work otherwise.

I've learned my lesson and hopefully you've learned from it too.

~J

Complicated Is Overrated

One thing I've noticed in dating Mr. Wild Card is that everything was just so easy with him.  We became 'official' with minimal talking - he initiated the conversation and I was more than agreeable.  We made it official on Facebook without much push and pull.  We were able to transition into saying "I love you" easily.  All of these things made sense in the moment, there wasn't any hesitation or backpedaling.  It was so easy.

It made me look back at some of my old relationships and realize that all the times that I have become a couple with someone, it was just as easy.  (Now, the breaking up part wasn't so easy, but such is life.)  There weren't any guessing games or having playing my cards close to the vest - it was easy.  Huh.  I think I'm onto something here.

See, the thing is that sometimes girls, young women, ladies or other such feminine creatures make relationships a lot harder than they need to be.  They make non-relationships harder than they need to be.  (Note: I make everything harder than it needs to be - sorry, Mr. Wild Card.)  It doesn't have to be that way at all. 

If you are supposed to be dating someone, it's going to happen.  There's no amount of scheming, make-up, pouty faces, purposefully missed calls or causal run-ins that will make anyone want to date you more than they already do or do not.  You can't create a situation in which you suddenly become more desirable to someone who just isn't interested.  Why waste all that effort and subject yourself to heartache when that person you're putting on a pedestal doesn't even have you on their radar?

Advice tells you not to be too available, not to talk too much, not to be too needy, not to pry, not to monopolize all their time, not to do this and that.  It's garbage.  There is no cocktail of behavior that can make someone want to date you.  Be yourself - your person will care about you no matter how much you talk or how often you call.  The person that you are supposed to be dating will find the amount of time they see your face just right or not enough.  Your partner will care about hearing you complain about work, will tweet at you no matter how busy they are and will like when you post pictures of you and them on every social media outlet in existence.  Your person will love you no matter how you act - they love you because you are you. 

Why, then, do we make it so complicated?  Because the heart wants what the heart wants?  Because endless books and articles about dating tell us too?  Forget that.  You aren't supposed to convince or persuade someone into a relationship.  It's meant to be easy and natural; we all need that reminder every so often. 

So, get rid of the notion that there is some magic to dating.  It's straightforward.  You like someone and they like you and you spend time together and if you still like each other, you continue to date.  Simple.

Here's to more simple in 2013.

~j

Mr. Wild Card (aka The Boyfriend)

Preface: I know it's been a little while since I've written, so please accept my apologies. I, like you, have been busy and (unlike you, I'm sure) utterly self-absorbed.  Luckily, one of my resolutions is to write at least once a week, so I hope that appeases you.

The last time I wrote, I had just gone on several dates with this guy that I wasn't too sure about.  I mean, he was perfectly fine, more than that really, but I just didn't think he really liked me.  He was way different than any other person I've dated in a long time.  He was confident, self-assured, socially aware, secure, independent, forward thinking and a little cocky.  He was the wild card amongst the few guys I was talking to in late autumn.   

My insecurities came into play - I felt like he was way more attractive than me, could do much better and wouldn't be interested in me after hearing my loud laugh, learning about my obsession with 90's & Canadian teen dramas, figuring out what a nerd I am and finding out just how much I tweet.  I never, in a million years, thought that Mr. Wild Card and I would go further than just those few dates.

I was wrong.  As it happens, this guy is my new boyfriend.

I'm not really sure how it happened, if I'm being honest.  He kept asking me out and I kept saying yes.  I think I was stuck on the fact that I thought he would get tired of me or figure out that I was a square that I sort of disconnected myself from my feelings a little bit.  In other words, I was scared.  Mr. Wild Card was legitimately interested in dating me and I didn't know how to take that.  I didn't know if I would be the person he thought I was in the beginning.  You see, I acted aloof and like I could take it or leave it, so if I started to take this whole thing seriously, my demeanor would inevitably change and then what would he think?

After much internal debate, I decided that if he wanted to date me, he was going to get the full Jeana treatment.  Inappropriately loud laughter in quiet places.  Funny voices and the use of accents.  Random dance breaks.  Singing of everything.  Twitter addiction.  Picky eating.  Dates occurring after running in which a shower was not taken.  Snorts.  Diet Pepsi adoration.  Jeans and a t-shirt worn with beat up sneakers.  Endless commentary during movies.  Problems with dwelling on things.  Occasional neediness.  Inability to take a compliment.  Lack of desire to cuddle at any time.  Ineptitude at sharing feelings.

What I mean to say is I showed him my crazy.

We all have it, but I tend to hide mine for a long time when dating someone new.  I wanted to put everything out there, so he would know what he was getting into - if he saw all this and still hung around, I knew he would be worth all the trouble, hurt feelings and potential sadness I was desperately trying to avoid. 

The amazing thing is, he did stay and he is kind of, well, amazing.  I'm definitely not saying he's perfect, he's done some dumb stuff, but he's the exact person I need in my life right now.  He loves all the parts that I thought weren't lovable.  He tells me I'm beautiful and instead of brushing him off, I'm learning to accept it.  He makes me want to share my *gulp* feelings.  He easily forgives me when I mess up.  He makes me want to try.  He's made me believe in love again.

(Sidenote: Gosh, I sound uber cheesy, don't I?  Forgive me, I'm sure this new love haze will wear off soon.)

This relationship is making me a better person.  I'm growing, learning and changing for the better; isn't that what having a grown up relationship is about, really?  More than companionship, Mr. Wild Card has given me my belief that there are people out there that will truly care about me, like I do them.  If this doesn't last (but golly, I sure hope it does!), I can look back on this whole thing with fondness simply because I've gained that realization. That's an incredible feeling.

Maybe, in my heart of hearts, I am really a romantic and it just took someone to bring it out.  Here's to hoping that this new year is full of love, joy, happiness, romance, growth and more time with the people that are important.

With a full and happy heart,
J

      

When You Most Expect It

Something that I've over and over again since being re-single is that "love comes when you least expect it."  The more I hear it, the more annoyed I become with the phrase.  Like, REALLY annoyed.   As in, don't ever say that to me or you might get a combo side-eye, duck lip face back at you.  You're meaning to say that if I simply let go (and let God) that love will somehow find me?  *gasp*  Is it that simple?  And here I was, making it ever so complicated.

I don't think this turn of phrase is accurate.  Let me tell you why.

Sure, finding love is can be hard and complicated, but, much like anything you want to be successful at, getting into a successful relationship involves work.  Let's be honest here - you can't just sit on your couch, eat ice cream, watch repeats of all the Real Housewives franchises (i.e. my Monday nights) and expect to find love.  You have to put yourself out there, in whatever capacity that is.  And it doesn't mean there isn't an expectation of love necessarily, it's simply a willingness to allow yourself to believe in love and attempt to experience it. 

So, what does that look like?  Maybe it means you're seeking love out.  Maybe it means that you are going on dates.  Maybe it's putting a profile up on a dating website. Maybe it's letting your friends know that you're ready to meet someone.  Maybe it means that you don't shy away from talking to that cutie across the room. 

Maybe it means you try.

Don't get me wrong, I understand the idea behind the phrase.  If you are constantly looking for someone to fill a void, the right person doesn't seem to appear.  Conversely, if you fill your life with other things like friends, family, or hobbies, you find that you don't need a relationship to feel fulfilled.  Sometimes, love comes in a package you weren't anticipating. That's truth.  

But here's a critical point I feel is missing from this harsh phrase:  I think that with the self-assurance of not needing a partner comes a confidence that is exceedingly attractive.  You're focused on yourself and your happiness - you don't need someone else to provide that for you.  That's sexy.  That takes the pressure off of someone you date.  They see that as a sign of self-reliance and want to be a part of what your already full life.  

What you shouldn't expect is for Cupid to drop the love of your life at your front door.  You shouldn't expect love to come out of every date or every person you meet.  You shouldn't expect love to make you complete.

Love comes when it comes. It can blindside you or you can see it coming right for you.  It's unpredictable - that's why love is so great.

So, go ahead and expect love.  It'll come, if you're ready.

~j  

The Grass Isn't Always Greener

Today's blog entry is special!  It's written by my friend Sam, who I have known since high school.  He is funny, energetic, sweet, gregarious and adorable, but he's having some trouble in the dating world too.  He is a reminder that I'm not the only single person out there (even though it seems like it sometimes) and dating isn't easier just because you happen to have a Y chromosome.  I hope you enjoy Sam's thoughts as much as I did! 

Here's what Sam has to say today:

Dating in the straight world is hard, but take it from me, a card-carrying citizen of Gay Town, dating among gay men is just as brutal. It takes just as much dedication, openness, vulnerability and patience as dating among the heterosexuals. Just like our straight brethren, we gays also go on bad dates, make silly jokes and wonder why our date isn’t laughing, and meet people who look good on paper but turn out to be complete jerks.

Recently, though, I was reminded of one key element in gay relationships that I believe to be different than in heterosexual relationships: men are extremely visual. I believe men scrutinize a woman’s appearance, body, hair, face, etc., but I believe women are generally a little more forgiving of a less-than-perfect male physique. With gay men, though, there are two men sizing each other up, and in my experience it is less likely that gay men are as forgiving as our female counterparts to pardon someone who falls somewhere south of an Adonis.

Several gay men want a guy who is, at worst, a 9 out of 10. Many gay men want a tall, broad, muscular stud with biceps for days, six pack abs, and toned butt cheeks that can crack walnuts. There’s no room for body fat, and by gum, you better wear clothes that cling to and accentuate every inch of that glorious body. In short, the body reigns supreme. If you have jacked up teeth and serve stank face but your body is a perfect 10, many guys will date you for your body alone. I can’t tell you how many Butterfaces I’ve seen getting hit on by other guys simply because of their chiseled physique.

Now this idea that gay men are extremely visual is nothing shocking. I’ve always known that men are visual. I am too. I mean, you have to at least have some sort of visual attraction to the person, or at least that’s my experience. But a quick look at some of the people I’ve dated over the years shows I’m not discriminatory of a good looking gentleman who has a little extra loving on his body.

However, the days of my youth are limited and I am now facing challenges that I never had to worry about previously. Most recently, I learned that my body was the challenge standing in the way of a date with a certain someone.

I used to have a slight crush on a guy whom we’ll call C, and he happens to work at the same salon where I get my haircut. I was making my regular visit to my stylist, Rigo, and the subject came up that I used to have a crush on C. Little did I know, Rigo, armed with the knowledge of my former crush was going to play matchmaker after I left the salon. A few hours after I left, I got a text message from C saying that he honestly loves being single but he would like to be great friends. At this point in time, the text message was completely out of the blue, but I just replied with a simple, “Oh, of course! I’d love that!” No harm, no foul.

Fast forward to the next time I got my haircut, I was telling Rigo how everything had gone down and that I was slightly embarrassed but more or less confused why C was even texting me to begin with…and that’s when it happened. Rigo, after asking if I wanted the honest truth, said that he approached C about my former crush, and the response was “Well…he’s kinda gained a little weight over the years.”

Jawdrop.

Now, I’ve got to put things in comparison. C met me when I was 19, and I am now 29. I look *nothing* like I did at 19 – THANK GOD! I was skinny beyond belief and my body hadn’t filled out yet. Sometimes when I look back at the photos of me during that time period, I wonder where my chin was. My face just looked angular, and my physique was only slightly better than an 8th grader at Boy Scout camp. I weighed around 185, and for a 6 foot 2 inch male with a size 13 foot, that’s a little on the lanky side. As the years passed, my body filled out to a solid 225 pounds, and although I probably won’t complain if I lost a little bit of body fat, I must say that I love my body so much more now than when I was 19. I look like a man now. I finally fill out a pair of jeans. I don’t have to dance around in the shower to get wet.

After a few days of soaking in C’s comment, I realized that he probably helped me out more than he hurt me. First off, I enjoy my body, and I enjoy the process of whipping it into top form. I’m not in what I would consider the best shape of my life, but I’m certainly not doing bad, and if I keep up with things, it’s only going to get better. Second, this body isn’t going to last forever. I can whip it into shape all I want, but when I’m in my twilight years, it’s going to sag and wrinkle and do all the other things that come with age. A lasting relationship cannot be built on a body alone because the body will eventually wither. Third, if C doesn’t like my body, then he did me a humongous favor by letting me know. If I had what I consider to be my “perfect” body, I’d probably shed about 15 pounds, but not much more than that…because once I cross that 15 pound mark, I start to look sickly. And inevitably, over the years, I’m going to have periods where I’m 15 pounds lighter and other periods where I’m 15 pounds heavier. But in the big picture, we’re talking about 15 pounds, which I think is just ridiculous if that’s the single criterion one is using to turn down a date. If 15 pounds will scare off a guy, then he isn’t someone I would want to date to begin with.

To summarize my lesson learned by this encounter, I will not let someone else define how I should feel about my looks – that is up to me alone. I will continue to work on the parts of my physique that I feel merit attention, and I will celebrate my current accomplishments and future successes. Further, I will refuse to let someone categorize me solely by my body. I have two degrees, a fabulous job, incredible friends, and the best family anyone could ask for. I’m ridiculously fun to be around, and I’m also easy to get to know and get along with. I am smart and funny, and I’m sharply focused on not taking myself too serious. I possess an unquenchable desire to squeeze the most enjoyment out of life possible. I’m the kind of person a guy would love to take home to meet their mother.

Frankly, if C is going to overstep all the great things about me for 15 pounds, then I really should thank him for auto-removing himself from the pool of people I actually would date. Onward and upward!

Let's Call It A Day

I've dated a few people (in case you weren't aware), but I'm not really good at remaining friends with them after the fact.  There are a couple who are an exception, but that's mainly because I was pretty good friends with them to begin with and so it wasn't weird to transition back to that afterward.  All the guys from my major relationships though?  We just don't talk. 

When there is a break-up, I need distance from the situation and that distance turns into never really talking again.  I'm positive I'm not the only one who does this either.  Honestly, I just can't fathom being close to someone I was in love with outside of a relationship.  I have to break the connection completely in order to heal and move on.  How do you remain friends with someone you cared so much for without going nuts? 

All of this talk is leading somewhere, don't worry!  See, I have this person who I dated on and off for a while, but it just never seemed to work out.  (Wait, let me rephrase that: it would NEVER work out, for a variety of reasons.)  We started kind of seeing each other when I needed a distraction from my life and he was looking for someone to listen to him.  It seemed easy.  Then it got complicated.  Feelings got involved, which I wasn't really ready for, and the circumstances surrounding the time we got to spend together started to make me a little crazy.  It just wasn't working.  After a small argument, we kind of stopped communicating. 

After a little time and a few apologizes, we seemed to pick up where we left off.  Then something happened and it ended again.  This cycle happened a few more times and it shouldn't have.  He had me on a bit of a yo-yo and I just went along with it because I thought he was important, when I should have save us both some time and ended it with finality.  Unfortunately, I cared about him, loved him too much to let it go and I would get lost in the spin again.  In hindsight, I feel like he would feel a bit needy or lonely and seek me out because I'm a little bit of a sucker.  I can't blame him for everything though, since I could have walked away or said no at any time - I just wasn't strong enough.

We tried being friends, but it seemed like he always initiated something during that friendship period.  That might have been wrong of him, but the fact is I didn't put a stop to it.

He and I haven't been around each other or even talked for a while, so I thought it was done.  Then, last week, I get a few flirty texts from him.  Later that same day, I find out that he's 'serious' with his girl.  Okay, now I'm confused.  He sends a few more texts, which I don't answer. 

Then he calls.

Guys, he wants to be friends!  He cares about me and doesn't want anything to feel weird!  He wants me to be normal around him!  Can't we just do that?

No.  No, we can't.

I had to talk about my feelings and everything y'all.  I detest that junk, but I was honest and told him that I needed some space.  I was confused about the whole situation and didn't know if I could really be around him and feel okay.  He didn't like that answer.  He reminded me that I been dating other people!  I had been doing the same thing he was!  I should just be able to do it!

The thing is, I'm not asking him to be my friend.  I'm not asking anything of him, except some distance.  I don't know what being his friend looks like.  I don't know what normal around him looks like.  I've tried both of those things only to be accused of ignoring him or being cold.  I'm not sure where to go from here and I need some time to figure that out.

After time, I'm sure that feelings dissipate, anger subsides, hurt recedes and real friendship blooms, but I'm not ready yet.  I need time.  Lots of it.  If he's unwilling to give me room to breathe, he's being completely unfair.  He wants a friendship on his terms, like he wanted a relationship on his terms.  It just doesn't work that way, guy.  It's got to be mutual, and right now, it isn't. 

~j

Ways I Fail at Dates: Vol. 3

Well, I've successfully gotten someone else to ask me out.  I know!  It's crazy, right?  I'm not exactly sure how I'm doing it, although I'm fairly sure it has to do with my clear awesomeness and extra humility.  Either that or he's feeling lonely and doesn't want to spend another Friday night alone, eating Ben and Jerry's and listening to the new Taylor Swift album on repeat.

In these pre-date moments, I usually pull back the curtain and show you guys my neurotic brain processes.  (I wrote about other ways I fail at dates here and here, in case you missed them!)  Don't worry, I'm going to do that today, but I also want to assure you kids that I'm going into the date like I go into life: with my head down and attempting to not make any sudden movements.  (Kidding!  I'll be delightful, smiley and semi self-effacing, like usual.)

I don't know how this one is going to go - I've been talking to this guy on and off for a few weeks and this is the first time that our schedules have aligned.  Maybe all this waiting let us get to know either other better - to be honest, I'm not nervous in the least.  This either makes me jaded or just confident in the fact that he knows me and is still interested after all this time.  We'll see how it goes!  (And by that, I mean I'll write about it on Monday.  You're welcome in advance.)

Now, on to the important stuff - here's a few more ways I fail at dates:

Attempted Seriousness

We all know I'm not a serious kind of person.  I mean, I know HOW to be serious and the importance of a true heart to heart conversation, but it just isn't my sweet spot.  (Yes, I have made a mental note to work on that, thankyouverymuch.)  I love to make people laugh and enjoy time spent with people where we talk about light-hearted things.  When the conversation moves out of these bounds, especially on the first few dates, I fall apart.

Like, how serious is this conversation going to get?  How much should I reveal?  I don't want to put all my business on the table, but I also want to give enough so it feels like I'm sharing.  I've never been good at gauging that kind of stuff on dates.  I think it's the first or second date jitters combined with my inability to understand men.   

And I tend to get competitive in serious stories.  Things like: "Oh, you broke your wrist in college? Well, I had to have emergency surgery and my parents had to drive 7 hours to get to the hospital." and "Oh, you had trouble in school? Well, I didn't. At all.  In fact, I had a 4.0 in grad school."  How frightfully unattractive.  I'm going to try not to do that today.

Dorkiness

I'm not a supreme dork.  I haven't seen all the Star Wars movies, I don't watch Doctor Who (I just don't get it!), I'm not sure what a Battlestar Galatica or a Cosplay is and I don't read graphic novels.  I do, however, speak in weird accents, get geeked out over certain TV shows, have a clumsy streak and snort when I laugh.  I'm kinda a dork...just a liiiiiitttllllee bit.  I know that you should be authentic during dates, but maybe I shouldn't reveal that I wikipedia every 'The Walking Dead' character, just yet.

Over-Agreeableness

I just took a personality profile that told me that my highest trait was being "agreeable."  Not to prove it's point, but I'm agreeable to that assessment.  I tend to go with the flow.  Some people might see this as being indecisive, but I view it as the ability to have a good time, no matter what I'm doing.  (And I'm crap at making decisions.)

Usually, this is a good thing, but occasionally, it gets me into trouble.  I agree to second dates where we're shooting giant guns or I say something dumb like, "Oh, sure! Bungee jumping sounds SO fun!  And so does diving with sharks! And so does all the ridiculously awful things you're suggesting we do sometime because they are 'adventurous'!"  BUNGEE JUMPING DOES NOT SOUND LIKE FUN.  I don't want my body attached to a glorified rubber band and then hurdle myself off of a perfectly good bridge in hopes that it snaps me back from the brink of death.  This is being TOO agreeable.  I need to learn to give myself boundaries.  I need to learn how to shut up!  

And for future reference, I'm not a thrill-seeker.  I am a mug of hot chocolate, blanket and comfy couch seeker.  I am a local band concert, followed by a hamburger seeker.  I am a funny movie and slice of pizza seeker - just to clear that up.

~j



 

My, How Times Have Changed

I just want to preface this entry by saying that I do, in fact, think and do other things besides date.  I promise!  I may write about dating (and nothing but), but I assure you, I don't just troll the Internet and scour the streets for dates wearing an 'I'm available' sandwich board...although that WOULD make for a good blog, wouldn't it?

Since I'm waist deep in this whole dating life, I found a shift in the men that are available for dating at this point.  Plainly, the most decent guys I come in contact with are A LOT older than I am.  Most of them have been married before and many of them have kids.  This is a hard mental adjustment.  I want to say, emphatically, I have absolutely no issue with any of the things I listed above, but when I sat down and actually thought about it, it's so different for me.

I mean, I'm meeting guys in the LATE 30's.  That's almost 40 guys.  I just had to make the transition to being 30 and now I'm thrust into this whole world of people who are 40?  They're established.  They have steady priorities.  They're more laid back.  They aren't going to like when I take a dare to get up on a table in the middle of a crowded place and sing a song.  (Notice how I'm avoiding saying: THEY'RE OLD.)  I'm not sure they'll get me.  I'm afraid I'm not grown up enough for them.

On the other side of the coin are guys who are in their mid-20's and somehow find me awesome.  I think this has a lot to do with my level of confidence, lack of shame/embarrassment and not caring one bit about what people think of me.  Girls (okay, MOST girls) their age are totally concerned with the wrong thing.  I'm different for them.  At the same time, they haven't gone through anything, they're just starting out.  I'm ready to move forward and they're just figure out what forward means for them.  We're not in the same place either.

So, I'm stuck.

The last time I was really dating I was in my mid-20's - everyone out there was kinda my age.  It was simple to find someone who was in your place in life, who wasn't jaded, who was willing to take a chance.  Now, not so may years later, everyone has a backstory, is far more cautious and is sometimes skeptical of love.  It's almost like a reversal; if you're still dating or you're having to get thrown back into the dating pool by the time you're in your 30's, you have dealt with a lot of stuff that makes you lose your appreciation for meeting new people.  It becomes a chore, more so than something fun.  You don't really want to spend time going on another bad date. 

The question is: where do I go? Up or down?  I think the answer is, I'll know it by the person, not by their age.  You can be young and jaded.  You can be old and hopeful.  It's dependent on the person, not their circumstances.  Awesomeness knows no age limit, so neither should I.

~j

What Is Wrong With You?

(Before I start today's entry can I admit something?  I can?  Good.  When I write these things, I almost always envision myself as Doogie Howser sitting at his early 90's computer, writing his diary.  Just had to get that out there.)

That admission may make what I'm about to say harder for me to defend, but so be it.  The guys I'm running into these days are weird.  And flaky.  And kinda jerky.  And don't realize how awful they sound.  It's a nice guy drought, y'all.  I must be going through the dating version of Death Valley.

Listen, I know I'm a little quirky, but I would consider myself a fairly regular person.  I'm not talking about only drinking almond milk or loving Dr. Who a little too much weird here - I'm talking about strangely acting, hot and cold, utterly unbelievable men. 

I know you're saying to yourself, 'Jeana, it can't be that bad! We know how you like to exaggerate for comedic effect.'  While the latter part is true, the fact remains that I've been surrounded by guys who don't think.  They started off as perfectly nice, interesting guys.  They ended up being good stories I can relate to you, so I guess someone wins here!

The Friend of a Not-So-Close Friend

I had this group of friends I was really close with until some of them moved away.  After the core people left, those of us left drifted apart a bit.  I kept up with everyone on Facebook (read: I stalked them when I was bored), but I never really saw them.  Interestingly enough, I got a random message from a friend of one of these "friends by association" one afternoon.  I knew a little about him, mostly bad stuff to be honest, but I decided to give him a chance because I would want people to do the same for me.  (The lesson here is I'm TOO nice and I should have listened to what people said.)

We started texting occasionally and I found myself a little interested.  One night invited me to hang out and I agreed, even though I had just gone running and looked a hot mess.  I plopped on some deodorant, put back on my work clothes and headed over.  One of his friends happened to show up and relayed some interesting information to me: this guy had just broken up with his girlfriend THAT VERY DAY. So, the whole time he was texting me, he had been dating someone.  Yup.  My feelings weren't hurt or anything, but I did think it was indicative of his character and it was a major turn-off.  Needless to say, I'm not interested in him anymore.

Mr. Chip on His Shoulder

I think the name gives it away, but this guy was so bitter about everything!  The World Series, his work schedule, his old job, his past loves - anything he could have a problem with, he did.  He told me he broke up with his girlfriend, WHO MOVED TO TOWN FOR HIM because he just didn't like her anymore.  I wasn't sure about this guy at all, but, again, I gave him the benefit of the doubt.   

Until I heard something that would make me think, where have I gone wrong in this life?  During a quick conversation one morning, he told me that he would maybe "add me to the list of people [he's] spoiling" that was "currently [a list] of two."  I'm sorry?  Were you trying to be cute here or did you actually just tell me that you have other women that you might be dating that you felt the need to inform me of?  I don't care that you're dating around - I mean, I am too - but is it really necessary for you to tell me that information?  No.  And it kinda makes you look like a jerk.

The Kid

I hesitated even writing about this one, because I know he occasionally glances at this, but I'm not going to let his possible reading prevent me from telling you guys.  Around my birthday I went on a few dates with this guy who's a little bit younger than me - hence the nickname "The Kid."  He seemed super nice, was terribly cute and seemed pretty into everything I had going on (although, I can't blame him on that part!).  The day after my birthday, he told me that he felt overwhelmed with our situation (mind you, we'd been on THREE dates) and that he couldn't see me anymore.  Now, this bummed me out, but those were his feelings and I'm not going to try to talk someone into or out of anything.  I just let it go and chalked it up to experience.

I moved on, but a few weeks ago he texted me and told me he had messed up.  I didn't want to be a jerk, so I had lunch with him, skeptical, but I understood where he was coming from.  He seemed to be more sure this time and the whole thing seemed romantic to me.  We started talking and hanging out a little and I was enjoying myself!  And what happened?  He bailed on me again.  He apologized and said he needed to get himself together.  Okay.  <-That was literally my response.  I'm confused on this one.  I'm not sure what happened, but I know it doesn't have to do with me.  And if it does, then I really need to adjust my self-perception.

My Conclusions

1. I must need to learn something, otherwise why would I be meeting these people?
2. I am entirely too nice.
3. I need to have a better filtering system.
4. I should have my friends pick out my dates, because they have to be able to do better than me.

~j