Happy 2011!

I know it’s a little late to still be wishing everyone a happy new year, but I’m always just a few minutes late to pretty much everything.  So it’s fitting.  I apologize again for the infrequency in posts, but I’ve been having a hard time with life lately.  You’d think that I would take that difficulty and share it with you, and I’m kind of surprised that I haven’t been able to do that. It’s time to get back in the saddle.

My resolution this year is to try to write more, mainly here on the blog, but also perhaps make an attempt to write some fiction of my own. I used to really enjoy writing, but as I get older and life gets harder and more tiring, I find myself incapable of doing just about anything when I get home.  I don’t cook (another thing I’d love to be able to do), I don’t read (unless I’m on the T) or write. I get home, flop on the couch, and don’t move for 3 hours.  Then the only movement I do is into my bed.

I’ve started to notice that this kind of lifestyle is really starting to wear me down, and I don’t like it.  I’m aware that I’m constantly mildly depressed with all the Paul things on my mind, but I can only place so much blame on that. (We had a really wonderful Christmas and he came out for New Years, which was also amazing. Hottest sex of my life. But he’s back in WV now and still doesn’t want any kind of relationship – which I get and have told him I’m totally ok with – but when he doesn’t text back for a few hours I go through this awful range of emotions and I’m a big mess.  I want him to be able to do what he needs to do for himself, which is why I haven’t told him that I’m struggling like I am. Truth is, I feel like crying at least once a day because he’s not here with me.)

I do also place a little blame on the weather. The winter has gotten very cold and snowy, and is interfering with my steady running schedule. Running is perhaps the main way I maintain my sanity. I try to keep up with my other activities at the gym (yoga, spin, etc.) but they’re just not the same. Nothing really lets me think the way running outside does.

So I need to fix myself. I’m going to plan to cook a meal for myself at least once a week. I’m going to also to try to write here once a week. Also, although I’m almost positive I want to spend the rest of my life with Paul, he’s not so sure.  So I have to try to get out a bit and meet people. I need to know that there are other people in the world, and that if things don’t work out with Paul and I, that I can still be happy.

So welcome, 2011. Here’s hoping you’re better than 2010.

(wow, I said “try to” a lot in this post. I guess I have goals, huh?)

Something Always Brings Me Back to You

Last night after spin class I went over to my friend Anna’s place in Auburndale, where she works at a local college.  Viv came by too, and the three of us laughed and drank some wine for a few hours.  It was quite a wonderful, comforting thing. Well, until I tried to commute back home, but that’s another story for another time.

If I could advocate one thing for a single girl growing up in a big city, it’s that we all should strive to have a strong support-group of friends. Friends who support who you are, what you love, and what you want out of life. And it’s helpful if they like wine. You don’t have to have many of them, but I think it’s vital to sanity to have a few people you can confide in, laugh with, and really truly feel comfortable with. That’s what Viv and Anna are to me.

Viv, Anna and I have been friends for as long as I can remember.  Anna and I (and our friend Sarah, another member of the group) were on many of the same softball teams as kids, and Viv and I became inseparable in 6^th grade when she decided not to hate me. Apparently in 5^th grade she really hated me.  But lucky for me she came around.  I think the fact that we only know each other in our 6^th grade lunch period was the real savior there, but I tell myself it was my winning charm that won her over.

We stuck together, whether that meant hanging out in the hallway before home-room every morning or figuring out how to deal with controlling parents or a non-existent father reappearing. We spent that week in August camping together with Viv’s dad. As we grew older, we only grew closer. I know that high school is really hard for teenage girls, although I only know that from TV.  Throughout all of high school I felt loved, appreciated, and happy.  It was ok that I was awkward, because Viv understood me. It was ok that I cried, because Anna gave the best advice. Instead of making me feel embarrassed about being bad at sports, Sarah taught me how to throw a football. I never felt alone and alienated. I was lucky.

The end of senior year came around, and it was time to sign yearbooks. We all thought it would take forever to write what we wanted, so we decided to set up a day where we got together to pass them around. Instead we ended up talking and laughing for hours. We didn’t see the point in saying goodbye, because we knew that we weren’t going to let college break us apart.  I think in my senior yearbook Viv’s entry says, “signing these things is stupid. I’ll see you at mom’s pool tomorrow?”

And we did. We kept in touch through college (thanks Internet) and beyond. We still camp every August (it’s been 11 years now). It wasn’t until I was out of college and settled in Boston that I realized that not all people are this lucky.

Both Paul and Anna’s girlfriend have told us, “it’s frightening how similar you guys are.” Perhaps at times it’s a little odd, but I like knowing that the world contains people who understand me so fully. If I never again find romantic love, I will still be loved.  Appreciated. Trusted. Wanted.

And because of that, I can do anything.

Get the hint, please

Last week, while I’m sure she was trying to get me to “get over” whatever is going on with me and Paul, Viv was asking me about BSD.  I explained that the week before I had booty called him three nights in a row, and got either rejected or ignored all three times.  Not really in the mood for a casual hookup anymore (see: Paul, yeah, I know I have to deal with that) I decided I was done with him. I got the hint that he really wasn’t that into me anymore, and I moved on.

THEN.

Last Tuesday was a good day for me.  I went to yoga after work, and picked up some sushi from the grocery store on the way home.  I had my sushi, I had a nice warm shower, and I was happily in bed, texting Paul, by 1o:30pm.

At 11pm, my phone buzzes with a text, this one from BSD:

BSD: hey doing anything tonight?

Now, I was pretty pissed that my attempts to have some casual sex got ignored, but I was trying not to be a bitch so I texted back:

Me: nope. Yoga, sushi and bed. the way i like my tuesdays

BSD: no interest in doing anything fun now?

At this point my mind was like, “WHO BOOTY CALLS AT 11PM ON A TUESDAY?!” And I really wanted to text that back to him.  But alas, I kept it classy:

Me: ha. no

Errrr, kind of classy.  I did my best.

BSD: why ha?

Me: well it’s 11pm, i’m in bed, and i get up at 545.

Sidenote: how annoying is it that you can’t convey tone in a text?! I really wanted to make sure he got that response with a really bitchy, what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you kind of tone.

BSD: i hope i didn’t wake you, and hope we can have some fun soon

Although I know she wants me to move on to men that aren’t Paul, even Viv found this attempted hook-up complete BS. We decided that I should attempt to look for other men who are maybe a little bit brighter.

Oh, other note: Paul and I are still texting. There is no end in sight. I know that eventually we’ll have to deal with it, but that day is not today. PROCRASTINATION 101 here I come.

Bars are the new online dating

Last night my company softball team played in one of the final games of the season.  We’re pretty terrible (we’re reliably bad in the 6^th and 7^th innings, and we only play 7 innings), so it’s highly unlikely that we’ll be making the playoffs this year.

Before the game got started, we were watching our opponents hold some batting practice.  And DAMN, they were good.  We stood on the baseline waiting and I was basically like, “well, it’s been fun guys, but we’re going to lose. Could someone grab me another beer?”

But you know what, internet? WE WON. 11-8. It was an awesome game, everyone played well, and for once we drank all the beer we brought to the game.

After every game, the whole league goes to The Blackthorn bar in Southie for drinks, and the bar (thanking us for our drunken weeknight patronage) buys pizzas for all the teams. When we got to the bar, most of the other team was there too, drinking and having an awesome time.  As it’s a beer league, most of the teams are really great sportsmen and there is love, not hatred, even after losing a game.  My friend Cara (who is a lesbian) was on the other team and when she gets drunk she tends to hit on me, which is always a nice confidence booster (note: she knows I’m straight).  I like her personality a lot, but we really only see each other at softball games, so we were chatting and catching up. Later in the evening she said, “ok, pretend you’re dancing with me, I have to tell you something.” She then tells me how her male teammate behind her (who was pretty cute) had wanted her to tell me that he wanted to sleep with me.

Oh wow, what was that? Oh I see; that’s my self-confidence, FLYING HIGH.

Of course at this point it was late (about 10:45pm) and a school night; we were about to leave. Cara and I talked about him a little, I laughed a lot, and then I told her that I thought he was cute, but it was lame that he sent her over to talk to me like we were in 7^th grade. As my team was heading to the door, I said my goodbyes and told her he could have my number if he would man up and talk to me himself.

And THEN, in the most shining moment of my life to date —  this guy (whose name I don’t even know) was on the sidewalk outside of the bar talking to one of his teammates.  As I walked by, I put my hand on his shoulder and said, “you get some balls, and then we can talk.  But don’t send your girl out to do your work.”

(crowd cheering, thunderous applause)

Then I walked away.

Of course, now I’m like, “WE HAVE TO MAKE THE PLAYOFFS SO I CAN SEE THIS GUY AGAIN.” But really, even if I never see/talk to him, I am so proud of myself for this behavior. I’m glad I was drunk enough to even do it.  Normally I would have just ignored him because I’m shy and timid. But the game win + Clara hitting on me + his request = … man, it was a good night.

Today’s hangover is totally worth it.

In other news, date #2 with Brad tonight, because I’m a sucker and I think he needs friends. I’ll let you know how it goes.

I know I said I wasn’t dating … I should have listened to myself

A few weeks ago, Viv gchatted me a link to a guy’s page on OkCupid, accompanied by the word, “adorrrable.” Although I’d given up dating for the summer, I clicked. And you guys, I fell in love with him. We were a good match, we had all kinds of wonderful things in common, and since he lived on my side of the river, Viv and I decided that I got to message him.

I consulted with Viv, my roommate, a coworker, and said coworker’s long distance boyfriend to write up the initial message to him. After they convinced me that “MARRY ME” was not an acceptable first interaction, we got it just right and I sent it off, and he responded that very night. His name was Brad, and he wanted to hear more about my cat.

MUSIC TO MY EARS.

We exchanged emails for about a week and decided to meet for drinks last Thursday. I’m sorry I kept him to myself for a while, but I was worried that if I excitedly blogged about him to you all I would jinx my good fortune. Plus it was nice to have a little secret.

Anyway, we had drinks at The Tavern in Porter. He’s only been in Boston for THREE WEEKS, fresh from grad school in California. He is 26, has a great new job, likes the people he works with (one of who turns out to be the guy Viv’s roommate is marrying next year) and is looking to get to know people in Boston. He’s really nice, he’s funny, we get along, we had a lot to talk about and it was a great date. Except.

EXCEPT.

He’s really skinny, in a way that I find unattractive. The most frustrating thing about the internet dating scene is the process of attempting to decipher if you’re attracted to someone. I wasted all this energy and excitement on a guy who, it turns out, I am not attracted to. And while looks aren’t everything, attraction is really vital. I can’t be in an attraction-less relationship. You can’t make me do it.

People always say that attraction sometimes comes later in the relationship, but I’ve never found that to be true. I think my main hang-up is that my last boyfriend was really skinny and I wasn’t very attracted to him, and I’m fairly certain that it was the original demise of our relationship. I know this guy is a totally different person, but I can’t help project my lack of attraction to the boyfriend onto this guy.

So what do I do? It seemed like a rather platonic night out, and I’ve agreed to a second date because in general I think he’d make a great friend. We’re going out Thursday, and I’m leaving for a week-long vacation with friends the next day so I don’t want to be out to late. Any suggestions of places in Boston to take a California boy to show him that the North East isn’t as dreadful as he thinks it is?

In the mean time, I’m going to give BSD (birthday sex dude, that’s his new nickname) a text and see if he’ll let me take him on that booty call possibility.

Maybe this time, I’ll be lucky

I got a little drunk last night, (my softball team finally won a game!) and told a couple of guys on the team about checking an item off my bucket list. One of the guys was like, “why don’t you call him?! I think maybe you should call him. Or at least text him. He might be the one, you never know.”

I kind of brushed off the suggestion, and then we got into a heated argument about the validity of Lady Gaga as a musical genius/pop star with the caliber of a young Madonna.

I got home pretty late, but it was hot and humid and I needed a nice sobering shower, so I hopped in. As I got out, I heard my phone beep with a text. And guess who it was?! Mr. Birthday Sex himself. He wanted to know what I was up to. Then he wanted to know if I wanted to meet up. As it was 11pm on a Tuesday, I took this as a request for a booty call.

(sidenote: getting a booty call is also on the bucket list)

As I was in my bed, refreshed and ready for sleep from the shower, I politely declined saying that if he had caught me 20 minutes earlier I would have been totally down. But I definitely said “maybe next time” so as not to deter him too much. Just in case I might want him later.

So, internet, I have a conundrum. Do I text him and keep him on a list as a possible hookup? Should I answer his next booty call with an “I’ll be there in 15,” or just let him go? Does it still count as a one night stand if I answer his booty calls, or do I have to uncheck that item on the list to check this one?

Check that off the bucket list …

I don’t have a specific “bucket list” but there are a handful of things that I really want to do before I die.  See the pyramids in Egypt, have a conversation with my Italian relatives in their language without a translator, fall in love, blah blah blah.

This past weekend I was able to check one of the high-ranking items off my list. I met a random guy at a bar, let him hit on me and buy me drinks, and then I took him home and slept with him.  I remember his name, have his phone number, and have pictures of him taken with my camera in the bar.  But I have no intention of calling him again.  Because, internet, I REALLY have always wanted to have a one night stand.

Last Wednesday was my birthday.  Thanks to the fact that I have amazing friends, I celebrated from Tuesday to Saturday – drinks, movies, live music, all culminating with group candlepin bowling at Sacco’s Bowl Heaven in Davis Square on Saturday night.  Looking around the room, I commented to Fred that there were no cute guys in the room, so “there goes my chance for birthday sex.”  He agreed, we said, “oh well” and the night went on.  We bowled for about 2 hours and then decided to head to a different bar (the service at Sacco’s was really terrible).

While we intended to hit up The Burren, there was a $5 cover.  My friend Kitty suggested Sligos, the dive bar down the street.  I love dive bars, and had never even heard of the place, so in we went.  $2 PBRs on tap?! YES PLEASE.

At some point in the night, Viv called me to the bar for shots and I noticed that she and Rita were talking to 2 guys, one who was really cute. I don’t remember specifics (it was my BIRTHDAY people) but he and I talked for a while, and decided it would be a great idea to go to my place and have some awesome birthday sex.  I hadn’t had sex since my breakup last November, so this was a pretty spectacular birthday idea, if you ask me. Rita and Viv were crashing at my place and this guy had his wingman with him, so at last call we all headed back to my place.  The girls and mr. wingman ordered Chinese food and I took this guy into my room and had my way with him.

He woke me up at 7am and was like, “I’m going to take off. You have my number, call me if you want.” He kissed me and left. All I was thinking was, “THANK GOD, a gentleman who knows to leave before it gets awkward.”  I slept in, and spent most of Sunday in serious recovery mode.

Happy Birthday me .

And what about you?! Are YOU still alone? What happened to that nice boy you used to date?

A few weeks ago (Father’s Day weekend) two of my best friends, Fred and Rob, got married.

Fred and I were friends all through college, and senior year he started dating Rob. When I moved to Boston, Viv and Fred were the only people I knew here.  After a bad housing situation, Fred and I moved in together into a place in Somerville.  About a year later, Rob graduated college and moved in with us.  Then we got a cat. We were a very happy family. The three of us lived together for another 2 years until the boys decided that it was time they got their own place and moved to the ‘burbs (Framingham).

Fred’s family is from Cleveland, OH, and the boys decided to celebrate their nuptials out there in the beauty of Fred’s family backyard.  So we packed ourselves and their dog into Rob’s car (McFly) and drove out for the week. It was a long drive, but it was nice to spend time with the boys since I don’t get to see them as much as I’d like anymore.  Plus, I was asked to be “Best Person of Honor” and so I wanted to be around to clean things, fetch drinks, iron shirts and put flowers in vases.

I was so excited and happy that these two were finally going to tie the knot after over 2 years of engagement, I didn’t even think about the possibility of the “Liz, when are you going to get a man and get married??” questions that normally pop up during weddings. As many of you know, I’ve been single for a while now (since November 2009), and I’m pretty happy with my single life. While sometimes I feel like it would be nice to have someone in my bed at night, I don’t feel at all like I’m missing out on something, or that my life is in need of something.

Besides, those kinds of questions only pop up when siblings and cousins get married because the family wants to go to another wedding soon.

HOWEVER, while I view Fred and Rob as my brothers, it didn’t occur to me that their families’ view me that way too. We arrived on Wednesday afternoon and by that evening Fred’s dad had asked the dreaded question:

Liz, are you seeing anyone right now? Is there man in your life?

Nope, just me. All single me.

I watched as Mr. P’s face dropped in disappointment. Then, of course, I felt the need to explain to the group WHY I was single, and watch as they tried to comprehend why I didn’t seem to mind so much.

(I suppose it’s important to mention that I was the ONLY single person -not married or seriously dating someone- at Fred’s house from Wednesday to Saturday when more guests arrived for the party itself. JOY)

While it was wonderful to know that they viewed me as family (since I had viewed them as family for years), it was a struggle to have TWO MORE families in my life who have begun pestering me about my dating. I know, it means that they care, yes I get that. But what they care about is my happiness, right?  Not that I conform to a particular societal practice? RIGHT?

And that’s a struggle too.  Because I feel like I’m letting them down by not concerning myself with participation in that societal practice.

Hello Summer! I’ve missed you quite terribly

This past weekend was Memorial Day (as you know) and as the unofficial start of summer, it also marked (basically) the last free weekend of the summer for me.

Perhaps this is an issue with living in the North East, but when summer comes my life seems to explode.  Camping trips, softball games, weddings, BBQs, and birthday celebrations seem to fill all my waking moments.  I don’t see a free weekend on my calendar until July 17^th. My theory is that our winters are so long and terrible that we get stir crazy and attempt to cram every semblance of a normal life into the 3 months of nice, you-don’t-need-a-scarf-today weather. Not that I mind all the plans.  I make my bed so I have to lie in it, I get it.

However.

It does put an interesting hindrance on my attempt at dating.  In fact, it basically brings it to a complete standstill all together. I’ve been ignoring OkCupid emails, brushing off Scott-Bell-in-Hand’s texts, and disregarding guys in general.  Scott wants to get a drink, I say “sure,” but am unable to agree to a date or time because I’m already busy.  A really great guy on OkCupid wants to talk about Catch 22, and I can’t be bothered to reply to his delightfully witty email. A BBQ where I’m supposed to meet some guy falls through, and I don’t even care. They (I don’t know who “they” are, just humor me, ok?) say that if you really like someone and want to get to know them, you’ll make the time for it. Right?!

I think it’s really clear that I have no intention of making the time for anyone new. Hell, I’m having a hard time committing to that second softball league I agreed to join.

The thing is, my summer days are filled with plans with friends.  Day drinking, trips to the beach, terrible summer movies with really hot guys in them – BRING IT ON. It’s hard for me to cancel on a friend to make time for a stranger, or to say no to a friend because I may or may not have a date this week.

[It’s important for you to know that I also happen to suffer from a serious case of FOMS (Fear Of Missing Something) syndrome . A friend invites me, and I HAVE TO GO. If I missed an inside joke I would just die.]

Instead, I’ve deciding to not date this summer.  If I meet a hot guy, a casual hookup is fine.  However, I’m devoting my summer to the following things:

1. Running faster. All my life I’ve run, but nothing faster than a 9:30 mile.  PICK IT UP ELIZABETH.

2. Learning the Thriller dance.  If this proves easy, I will attempt to learn as many Michael Jackson dances as possible.

3. Cooking.  FOR REAL. Don’t just buy Trader Joe’s frozen meals, and don’t just make raw salads.  Every week, pick a meal (one meal! It can’t be that hard) and MAKE IT, even if it’s lunch on a Saturday because you’re eating out the rest of the week.

Boys can wait until the fall.  I have some time free in September, I think.

I want you, I need you. Oh baby. Oh baby.

I know you’re all sitting on the edges of your desk chairs and couches wondering, “what’s going on with Lizzie and Scott-Bell-in-Hand?!”  Well, I’m here to tell you:

I have no effing idea.

We’ve texted back and forth for weeks now, but I don’t seem to have any really motivator to make me care about him.  About a week ago he texted and I shared that I had made myself a breakfast of bacon, eggs and toast for dinner, and we discussed the possibility of getting breakfast for dinner together.  While I LOVE the idea of breakfast for dinner (I mean, who doesn’t?), somehow I just can’t embrace the idea of going with him.

Which is sad, really.  What’s wrong with me that I don’t want to go out with this guy now? Has anything changed since we last agreed to go out? The only thing I can think is that I’m now subconsciously afraid that he will cancel on me again.  Which, judging by his texting habits, is not really something I should be worried about.

I think my real issue is deeper than a casual worry of being stood-up.  I think my mind (although it was drunk at the time) knows that I’m not really attracted to him.  Lately I’ve been thinking about how long it’s been since I’ve been passionate about anyone.  I can’t even say that I was passionate about my last serious boyfriend.  With him, it was an intense friendship, but nothing stronger. Maybe missing that spark back then is finally starting to catch up with me now?

What I miss is that uncontrollable urge.  That, “I need you, I want you, RIGHT NOW” kind of feeling. Now, (of course) the times I can remember having that feeling, it was for men who were not at all good for me.  I had it for my asshole-college boyfriend like crazy.  The guy who broke up with me, broke my heart, and all my friends said to me, “thank god, I hated him.” ISN’T THAT TYPICAL.

Do you think that’s it’s possible that the person that makes your heart flutter can also treat you like a decent human being? Is it possible that you can have a healthy relationship with someone who gets so far inside your head?  Or am I just day dreaming?

Maybe the romance of the Hollywood movie industry has just gotten to me.

Should I give Scott-Bell-in-Hand a text? Is it worth going on one date, or is that even wasting my time? Is it worthwhile to hold out for something that may or may not even exist?

Wow, that’s a lot of uncertainly.  WAY TO GO LIZZIE.