Wednesday, February 11, 2009

I accidentally asked a boy out.

So, for those of you following along with the below story, I’ve decided to back off a bit for the time being and fill you in on some real-time dating shambles.

Scene – I have been single now for four months after getting out of a string of two demi-serious relationships. I promised myself I could and should be single for six months. That was the goal…until I accidentally asked a boy out on facebook today.

Seriously. Who does that?

We have recently become friends on facebook (after I found out we moved back to the same town after going to college together) and started messaging back and forth. Little chit chat stuff. He messaged me at 7:30 this morning, something along the lines of ‘Blah, blah, blah, inconsequential nonsense……Give me a call sometime if you want to hang out XXX.XXX.XXX. Have a good one, Hot Boy’

Ugh. He tried to put the ball in my court - I forward to my friends for immediate analysis and discussion.

And then what do I do? Message him back. Only five freaking hours later. The married woman I work with talked me into it.

Note to self: Don’t take dating advice from marrieds. You will likely regret it in under five minutes.

My message…something along the lines of ‘Blah blah blah…It would be great to hang out…my number is XXX.XXX.XXXX – we should grab drinks sometime.

So, lovely readers, any advice on fixing this? I’m an idiot.

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Infidelity.

So I want to start this post by saying two things.

1. I am extremely not proud of my behavior over the next six months of this story.

2. I am changing his name from TBTS to J. It makes it easier.

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So it happened. We kissed. For the entire world to see. Sober. I had no excuse.

We went upstairs to his apartment and tip-toed into his room. I knew it was a bad idea. I was friends with J's roommates and they surely knew I had a boyfriend. But... I just "had to see the Thomas Crown affiar - how had I not?"

I was repulsed by his room. It was the epitome of everything bad bachelor. Zebra print sheets and a leopard print comforter. True story. And this was a guy the girls went crazy over? (And trust me, they did). I told myself I could never sleep with a boy who slept in a veritable animal kingdom.

I stayed there that night and nothing happened more than a few kisses, but the chemistry was intense. I hid in the morning when I heard his roommates shuffling around and when I finally snuck out, I swore to myself it would never happen again. I had a boyfriend.

As you can imagine, it happened again. Several times. And I couldn't deny that more was happening over the next few months. We would meet on the quad on sunny days between classes to hang out. He became my absolute favorite study companion even though his major was the exact opposite of mine (accounting v. psychology). He would tease me about my boyfriend and I would pretend to ignore the jealousy I felt when I saw other girls around him.

I tried to hide it from my friends. But, as fate always has it, I was busted. In a public way. My best girlfriends and I were walking back to our apartments one day after happy hour and J and his buddies were sitting on the front porch steps of their fraternity's senior house. We made eye contact. I wish I could tell you what happened then. I remember snapping out of it when one of J's and I's very good mutual friends came running up to hug me. I think when he made contact my eyes were those that were caught in headlights, just staring at J. I just knew everyone around could hear my heart beating. He called out hello, as all of my girlfriends were friends with J, and I muttered something about needing to leave right then.

My best friend B by my side, I was busted. "Who was that?" Silence. "Wow, that's him, huh?". "That obvious?". "Let's just say we can all tell he loves you".

J and I slept together for the first time the next week.

Friday, February 6, 2009

A text.

I remember it like it was yesterday. I was at the undergraduate library, on the Wednesday after Mardi Gras. I received a text from a number I didn't recognize: "Hi pretty girl, want to go on a (insert fraternity name here) barcrawl with me tonight?".

I was confused. Who was this? And then it all clicked. F.

But I found his invitation a bit repulsive (a text four days later to go on a frat barcrawl? really?). I texted him back, declining his invitation. I had a boyfriend.

But he was persistent and a fast flirtation was established. I didn't go on the barcrawl with him that evening, but took him up on his invitation to study together the following week.

I was racked with guilt. I was dating a handsome liberal boy who cared about social justice. Who spoke on panels in front of universities about what it was like to be the boyfriend of someone who had been sexually assaulted. Who had puppy dog eyes. Who did nothing wrong. And I wanted to risk that for a frat boy with devilish blue eyes? Who worked at a bar? I was horrified when I heard the small voice in me saying, "yes".

I convinced myself it was innocent enough. We're just studying together, for chrissakes.

But I knew better. I knew it in the way he would look at me for just a second too long when he laughed. I knew it when he asked me out for ice cream the following week. I knew it when I was excited he asked and I wore a jean skirt because I remembered he once mentioned he loved girls in jean skirts.

And I should have known better when I let him kiss me, and I kissed him, outside of his apartment, a week later on the busiest street on campus.

The Beginning....Take 2

I wasn't exactly sure where to start this story, so I guess I should start at the beginning.

It was Mardi Gras 2006 in St. Louis and some of my sorority sisters from U of I and I had come down to stay at my parents' for the weekend and celebrate (St. Louis has the US's 2nd largest Mardi Gras celebration, after all).

I don't remember how exactly I met him. We had mutual friends (he too went to U of I) and he claimed we had met before at one of the bars on campus. I digress. Either way, we met and I was smitten. Immediately. And I so had a boyfriend. And I was so tipsy.

I was dating one of these guys that is just so nice. We met on campus while teaching workshops to freshman about sexual assault. He had plans to go to law school that he later scratched to go work for Obama and now he's in the White House. Impressive, eh? I thought so too. I had been dating him for a few months, and was determined to make this relationship work. I had spent the last three years bouncing around in relationships that were 2 months max, and I wanted that chapter to be done. But that was the thing, he was very nice, so when I met The Boy, I knew I was effed. Big time. We had the kind of chemistry that everyone notices. The kind that makes your girlfriends, 'Oh no, this is trouble'.

At this point, I want to say that I mulled over what to call him here. Although my name is clearly out there, I don't want his to be. So I've decided to call him The Boy That Stuck. TBTS. It's long, but it works.

As the day went on and I became overserved, things get a bit fuzzy. I had become fast friends with TBTS and we were together all day. At one point my girlfriends and I decided to go to a piano bar across town. As we were running down a highway off ramp to jump into the only empty cab in site, I yelled over my shoulder the bar that we were going to, and sped off with my girlfriends, giggling.

About 45 minutes later he showed up with his best friend in tow. They had literally walked about three miles in 20 degree weather in a city that neither was from to find us. I remember sitting next to him at the bar - at one point he put his hand on my thigh. Then he asked for my number. And I gave it to him.

I don't know how we parted that night, but I fully expected to never hear from him again.