London Calling

You may remember my ABBA themed post a couple of weeks ago where I described the joys of once again living at home. Well, I am pleased to report that I have finally, finally managed to get a job in London. Which means a.) no more living at home and b.) lots and lots and lots of (hopefully) single men in suits.

This joy took a bit of a tumble last night. I was Facebook stalking. (The shame of it!) When I discovered that my ex-boyfriend, the one who causes THE RAGE is also moving to London for work. After suffering the worst RAGE ever, I have calmed down, deleted him from Facebook (because if I didn't I think Violet would actually physically harm me) and have decided that I am not going to let this turn of events bother me. After all, there are 7.7 million people (approx) in London. The odds of seeing him are very, very slim. And if I do see him, so what? I have moved on, he is nothing more than a footnote in the story that is my happy, exciting, Fergus-free life!

So let's get back to the excitement! I'm moving! To London! The home of Bridget Jones! Here's to wine bars, weird men on the underground and finding my Mark Darcy...

Halloweeners

It's that time of year again. Vampires, mummies, girls dressed like sluts, oh my! Seriously, lingerie and cat ears is not a costume, I don't care what they say in Mean Girls. Also, it's late October. In New England. I know your cold in your corset and barely-there mini skirt. Have some self respect ladies. There is a fine line between sexy and downright trashy.

On that note, I admit, I love Halloween. I love dressing up (not like a tramp), I love being scared, I love ridiculously bad scary movies, and I love candy. I've carved my pumpkin, I've made my costume, I've watched zombie movies, I've even been to a haunted house (hanging on to Conrad's jacket the entire time, laughing). Tommorrow my roommate and I are throwing a Halloween party to end all parties. It will be epic, and costumes are required. So I want to know, what's everyone being for Halloween?

Time to let'em loose

You may remember my good friend and current roommate 8-year-Lisa. Yes, she is still with her loser of a boyfriend, who I shall call the Loser-of-8-years. When I first met him, I thought he seemed like a decent and fairly cute guy. However I have observed him, as well as their relationship more and because of this, my opinion has changed. (A) I think he's a douchebag (B) I still think she's an idiot and (C) I don't think they like each other. At all.

(A) Lisa and I have lived together for 4 months now. The Loser has only visited 3 times. Of all of his visits, I have been amazed at the time he either is on his computer, or is in her room (He seriously doesn't leave it!). Doing something social/fun with her friends is always out of the question. Not only does he not want to meet her friends, he also has no interest in anything she does and has refused offers to see the lab in which she works. The Loser still lives at home and has always lived at home. He's 26. One time, he called Lisa with a cooking question. Oh wait, no it wasn't a cooking question, he was asking her how to make speghetti! I swear, this guy does not have a personality. The only reason why I liked him at first, was because he thinks I'm funny. I'm over that, and she should be over him.
(B) Lisa is a funny girl with a great personality and a lot of love to give. She can do so much better. I know she's not a shallow person, but I swear she likes him for his looks (obviously it can't be his personality, because he doesn't have one). When I told her that I had a thing for Conrad her immediate response was "I just don't find him attractive at all." (That was her exact same response as when I told her I had a thing for my ex-Imaginary Bf). Conrad is a fairly good looking guy but I really wasn't attracted to him until I got to know him. Now I think he's HOT. And that's because he's got a funny/smart/goofy personality. Lisa doesn't think like that. She's even gone so far to call the Loser her "Trophy-boyfriend". He's really not that attractive. He's also not that nice of a guy. In the 2+ years that I've known her, every single one of my non-boyfriends (that's right I haven't had a real boyfriend in almost 2 years), has made the Loser-of-8-years look bad! She recently commented that I can get Conrad to do anything for me. It's not that he's so into me that he'll do anything, it's that he's a nice guy and doesn't mind helping out. The Loser is not that kind of guy.
(C) Maybe they're different in private, but I never see any type of affection between them. Not even loving looks. Not even laughter. In fact, I hardly hear them speak to each other. I think I saw them hug once, but that was after not seeing each other for a month. The only thing they seem to do is go out to eat and go to the movies. If you don't really like each other and have been together 8 years, there's only 2 reasons why you're still together 1) It's comfortable and 2) you don't know how to not be with them.

This has been a long distance relationship for almost all of their 8 years (Apparently, the year that she was living in the same town as him and he ignored her even though they were dating, doesn't count). Three years ago, when Lisa started grad school, the Loser was supposed to follow her. He looked for a job (for about a month I'm sure) but had no luck. So he kept on living at his parents. As Lisa's now trying to find a real job, the Loser has agreed to move to the local area with her. He still has yet to look for a job. I'm hoping this will be the breaking point of the relationship. There's no way she can be that much of an idiot to fall for it twice. Wait, can she?

Movie Love: Top 5

"You don't wanna be in love, you wanna be in love in a movie." So true. Yet so depressing. (The quote is from Sleepless in Seattle, but you all knew that...) I love movies, and I love rom-coms or rom-dramas. I've grown up and realized that love and relationships don't happen like they do in the movies, but that doesn't mean that we can't still enjoy them and hope that one of these days, we might just get that Hollywood ending, right?

I thought we could compare our top 5 rom-coms / chick flicks / rom-dramas. In no particular order mine are:

1. Roman Holiday: Audrey Hepburn as a princess and Gregory Peck an American journalist. When men were proper men, plus, Gregory Peck in a suit? I'm sold!
2. Say Anything: John Cusack you can stand outside my house with your boombox any day and I'd give you more than just a pen if you gave me your heart.
3. When Harry Met Sally: proof that good friends can turn into 'the one'. Billy Crystal loses points for putting the thought into our heads that men and women can never really be 'just friends', but he totally redeems himself with his speech at the end.
4. Sixteen Candles: reminds us all of our first older boy crush and any current 'he's so out of my league crushes'.
5. Dirty Dancing: sappy? yes! corny? obviously! made with the biggest pair of rose tinted glasses? of course! But for us girls who always feel as awkward as Baby, this gives us hope that we'll find our Johnny Castle.

Return of the Highlander

Don't worry, I haven't gone crawling back to the Highlander. But he just won't GO AWAY!

I was minding my own business yesterday, when my phone rang. I assumed it was Grayer, since I had left her a message earlier. Sadly, it was not. It was the Highlander. I had an internal debate that lasted a few bars of my salsa music ring tone on whether or not to answer. I really didn't want to talk to him, but I'm also incapable of ignoring a message. I figured it would just be a lot easier to answer and get it over with then to feel guilted into returning his call.

He was driving home from work, and just wanted to say "hi," since he hadn't talked to me in awhile, and wanted to see how I was doing. It was a very awkward minute and 36 seconds (I checked the time after I'd hung up). He told me he was doing well, as was his cat (the cat that I came this close to cat-napping, as he is frickin' adorable). I didn't contribute much to the conversation.

Of course I called Scarlet as soon as it was over. We both agreed that this was probably the last I would be hearing from him, as my obvious disinterest would be a big hint not to bother.

Oh, but the Highlander is not easily dissuaded. Or he is very dense. When I checked my email later that evening, I of course had an email from him. And judging by the time it was sent, he obviously went straight to his computer as soon as he got home. The email was really quite funny. He wanted to apologize for anything he may have said that upset me. Because obviously, the only explanation for my not wanting to talk to him must be that I am angry with him, not because I'm really not interested. He went on to tell me what an amazing spirit I am and that I possess a lot of qualities that most men are looking for in a woman, and he hopes that if we ever see each other again, that everything will all be water under the bridge. (The water being whatever it is that I am mad at him over, I suppose?) And the best part: He signed it "Sincerely." Sincerely! Seriously! I know he sat there and thought of that one for at least five minutes.

Because I use this blog as a form of relationship therapy, here is the email I really wanted to write back.

Dear Highlander,

I'm not really mad at you so much as I'm angry at myself for wasting three months of my life with you. (Although you did call me mean after I dumped you. Then told me every woman you've ever dated was mean. Hmmm, I can think of one common factor in all those relationships...) There were so many warning signs early on that I shouldn't have ignored. I know I said I wanted to be friends right after I dumped you. I may have meant that then, but I don't mean that now. Mostly because I realized after the physical part was gone (which wasn't all that great to begin with, but better than nothing), there was really no reason to hang out with you at all. You're right. I'm an amazing spirit. You, however, are not. I don't even think you're a spirit. In fact, I recommend that you find a doctor pronto and request a personality transplant. And make sure that comes with a few IQ points. Because no, I don't have special "pinchers" to take out my contacts. Peru was never a British colony, which is why they don't speak English there. And if you can't follow a more complex plot line than that of The Hangover, then that's a problem.

A backbone would also help. If you loved your dog so much, you really shouldn't have let your ex-girlfriend convince you to give him up. If you're a dog person, you really shouldn't get a kitten to impress the new girl (i.e., me) and then complain that the kitten runs around too much. If you aren't interested in a weekend at the beach, stay home. If church is something that is important to you, you should really mention that at the beginning of a relationship, not after you've been dumped in a last ditch effort to win some points. You're 32 years old, for crying out loud. Figure out what you want, already!

Sincerely,

Violet

Now, of course I didn't write that. But I did tell him that we clearly have nothing in common and should just go our separate ways. And I did tell him I hope he figures out what it is he's looking for. I haven't heard anything back thus far, but I really, sincerely hope we can put an end to the Highlander chapter of this blog. Seriously.

Cougar Town?

As we have all gotten a year older in the past few months, some of us (i.e. Violet) are really feeling the pressure. You know the pressure. The pressure to convert to a Smug Married. The pressure to dress your age, start a career, move out of your parents' basement. The pressure to pop out a couple of kids. The pressure to stay in a loveless marriage because you got married out of desperation and peer pressure, yada, yada, yada. To avoid these pressures myself, I'm keeping clear of age-appropriate-financially-stable-yuppies. No, sir. I'm sticking with the youngin's.

As I've mentioned before, Conrad IV is a few years younger than me. When we first started spending time together, he down played the age difference. "It's not even 3 years, it's actually 2 years and..10 months" he would say. Now that he's got me he will take any opportunity to point out how old I am. He even told me his mother was glad he was spending time with an "older and more mature woman." In three years, this will bother me, right now--not so much. So what if he's barely legal. So what if he's still in school and makes no money. So what if the slightest sign of commitment freaks him the hell out. Fine by me!

This, however, is not my first thing for a kid. Last summer, I totally had a thing for an 18-year-old intern. Then there's Emmett, who is still as fine piece of eye-candy as ever (and he's almost 21!). I'm not going to lie, sometimes I ask him to lift things for me or reach things off the upper shelves (and hell yes, I check out his ass). Obviously you can see a trend.

Ok, so maybe I'm a cougar in training, but I can see the appeal. They're hot, young and full of energy. And they don't want commitment. Perfect! Just wait. In three years, when I should be feeling the pressure to conform/move out of my parents basement, I'll be booking my annual cougar cruise.

As sexy as that sounds, maybe the pressure is getting to me. I recently had a dream that my mother kept nagging me to try on a wedding dress. After putting up quite a fight, she finally won and I tried it on. It looked stunning. As Violet and I believe that all dreams have meanings, she thought this meant I wanted to get married (Eeek!). When I asked Conrad what this dream could mean, he said, "You're old and you should seek older men." Thanks, kid. That's the spirit.

Zombieland

There's nothing quite like a new man. Especially one you're excited about. The little happy dances, the anticipation, the blushing...

But having a new man around does have a dark side. And it's called Extreme Sleep Deprivation. ESD can happen for several reasons. The first and most innocent is that you simply stay up too late with the New Man, caught up in all the New Man-ness, and forgetting about what time it is and that you have to get up the next morning and go to work like a normal person. It seems all fun and romantic at the time, but when you can barely get through your first class the next morning (and you happen to be the one teaching it), the romance is a bit lost on you.

It seems that I shouldn't be suffering from any sort of Sleep Deprivation in my current situation, seeing as Dark Horse and I are currently limited to seeing each other on the weekends, and I can sleep in the next morning. Trouble is, for the last few weeks, our dates have been lasting well into the next day. This is quite a delightful problem to have, and wouldn't be a problem at all if I weren't a bit of an insomniac. I have enough trouble sleeping as it is, and anything other than my normal sleeping situation will throw me off and sleeping becomes a hopeless cause. I'm quite used to sleeping alone, and when there is a body on the other side of the bed, my brain thinks that I need to be awake.

Eventually I'll get used to it and start sleeping semi-normally when he's around. But in the meantime, I'll be taking 2-hour naps on Sunday afternoon and going to bed early the next night in a futile attempt to catch up on my sleep.

Weekend Warrior

Since I met- or more appropriately, re-met- The Dark Horse I've been seeing him quite a bit on weekends. Hanging out with him is something I've thoroughly enjoyed. He's funny. And fun. I learned last weekend that he looks adorable in a baseball hat. (Bonus!) I learned this past weekend that he is a hilarious drunk. He actually gets sports. He even reads. Last week, we exchanged Gabriel Garcia Marquez novels. And he's really good at, you know... stuff.

I was cruising right along and feeling confident about the whole thing when Grayer said, "So, are you "seeing" each other?" My initial response would be yes, but then I realized that that has never actually been said. All signs would indicate that we are. He calls mid-week to ask what I'm doing on the weekend. He pays for dinner. It shouldn't be rocket science. But what if he doesn't want a real relationship? What if he only wants an imaginary, weekend girlfriend? I refuse to be an imaginary girlfriend, because let's face it, what self-respecting man would want a real girlfriend when he can have an imaginary one? As awkward as online dating could be, at least with that you knew what people were after. In real life, you actually have to ask them about it.

Which brings me to my question: When on earth should I be bringing this up? Normally I would prefer for The Other Person to bring it up, but I really don't want to get too far into something only to find out that it's imaginary; that's the worst kind of hurt. Next weekend would make it a month since we first went out, but since we're really only seeing each other on weekends now, does that push the timetable back? And how do I bring it up? I really, really don't want to be the girl who says, "So where is this going?" I mean, I don't need a commitment right now, I would just like to know that one is possible. Ugh. I hate this. Help!

Mamma Mia!

From Fenella:

Last night I went to a charity concert...an ABBA tribute band concert...on a Friday night...with my dad. Now, I like charitable causes, I like ABBA and I love my dad, but it was Friday night! Sitting there doing the 'Swedish finger dance' and watching a group of drunk thiry-something women make complete fools of themselves singing along to 'Mamma Mia' I began to take stock of what has become of my social life.

I don't have one. I did used to have a social life, I really did. There were times where I stayed out til the small hours of the morning, where my social calender was full up and where I looked forward to having a quiet night in after a week of social engagments. But now, all my evenings seem to be quiet nights in, or charity functions with my parents.

Delving deeper into this analysis during 'Gimme Gimme Gimme (A Man After Midnight)' (yes please!) I had the shock realisation that after moving back home to live with my parents we have a routine. A routine. For example, Friday nights are risotto nights, Sunday nights are roast dinner nights, Monday night is when we watch 2 particular programmes on TV. What's worse, I've found that I like this routine and don't particulary like it if it gets disrupted.

And as for a dating life? Well, what dating life? 'Does Your Mother Know?' is the least applicable ABBA song for my life because I'm never out. And if I am, it's with my mother.

As they began the finale of 'Dancing Queen' and the group of drunk thirty-something women decided to try and storm the stage (I wish I was joking) I realised that something has to be done. Mainly, me moving out but until I get a job that's not going to happen so maybe I should just indulge the routine a little longer...

Tonight we're having the risotto because we didn't have it last night. And the live shows of The X-Factor start tonight (one of Simon Cowell's creations) so I'm set for Saturday night. There's no ABBA song to describe this so I'm going to have to switch to The Beatles: 'Help!'.

Denial. It isn't just a river in Egypt. Its a freakin' ocean.

I'm not really sure how it happened but somehow over the course of the past few months I've entered into an imaginary relationship. The problem is that I don't know how to get out of it. I know, I know it is quite simple. I have the power to break it off and not accept fuckwittage. In fact, that was one of my New Years Resolutions. This is all v. good in theory but in practice it is freakin' hard. Because yes I suspect I'm in love with my imaginary boyfriend.

At the beginning, this thing with MM seemed to have so much potential. After dates he would send me messages thanking me or telling me how much fun he had. We always had fun and laughed when we were together. We talked almost everyday and saw each other 3 or 4 times a week. However, after awhile we came to the conclusion that we weren't really at the same place. I wanted a relationship and he wasn't ready to take that step because he had just recently come out of a really bad relationship. However, since we both really liked each other and weren't ready to end it, we decided to continue seeing each other. I think this is when he officially stopped being a guy I was dating and became my imaginary boyfriend.

While MM wasn't ready to add a label to the relationship and he admitted that he was having some commitment problems, we had agreed that we wouldn't see other people while we were dating. It wasn't exactly the same thing as being in an "exclusive" relationship but it gave me some confidence in him. I decided to give him time. How much time will I give him you ask? I really don't know the answer to that. Perhaps I'll get a case of Fenella's rage and cut him off at some point?

We had another discussion about where we were before he left the country on business for a month and a half and unfortunately nothing has changed. MM told me that doesn't want to hurt me and he wants to be with me but he doesn't know when he will be ready to fully commit to me. He said that he felt like an ass and he doesn't want to be stringing me along when I clearly want something more. Since he was leaving in a few weeks we decided to continue hanging out till he left and then take a "break". The plan was that we would both think about what we want and then reevaluate things when he returned. In the mean time there was no reason that I shouldn't be able to see other people since he wasn't ready to commit to me.

The thing is that I don't actually WANT to see other people. Despite our problems there is just something about MM and I that works. MM gets me. I know guys can never truly understand girls but he notices little things about me that other people don't. He understands that I take his sarcastic comments seriously not because I don't know he is being sarcastic but because it amuses me. MM defends me. He admires me and encourages me to have more confidence in myself. MM cares about me. He is understanding and doesn't push me to do anything that I'm not comfortable with. And most importantly he makes me laugh.

So I continue, perhaps naively, to have hope that things will work out. Since MM has been gone he has been emailing me consistently. He tells me that he misses cuddling with me and the smell of my hair. That he didn't watch a movie with coworkers because he wanted to wait and watch it with me. He shares little mundane details about his days. MM talks about an "us" in the future.

I know Violet and Grayer are cynics and will tell me to get over him and move on. And they would probably be right. But the thing is I'm a romantic and even while I steady myself for the worst when he returns, deep down I want to believe my imaginary boyfriend will turn into a prince.

It could be worse: She could be Bridget's mum

Grayer mentioned in her last post that she recently had a breakthrough with our mother. The breakthrough came in the form of her actually saying to me on Sunday, "So, I'm supposed to ask you: How's your love life?" She asked, for the first time ever. (I'm well out of adolescence by this point, too.) Grayer and I had a few theories as to why she suddenly stepped up and asked (besides the fact that Gray told her if she wanted to know things, she needs to ask), one obviously being that we're not getting any younger. But I think the reason she asked had to do with our latest cell phone bill.

Last month, it seems Grayer and I were a bit out of control with the phones. Grayer went over her text limit, I went over my minutes. I have no idea how that happened, though, since I can talk to Scarlet for free and Highlander was never that interesting to talk to, let alone on the phone. Mom sent us a nice email informing us how much we owed her. I responded with the following:

Something to take into consideration: If you and dad want grandchildren (and I suspect you do), it would be wise of you to invest in our cell phone expenses. I don't know how things went down back in the day, but these days, it is literally impossible to date without texting, etc. Unless, of course, I were to date a federal inmate, but luckily, thanks to your EXEMPLARY parenting skills, I have much higher standards and no desire to do so. Just something to think about

That may sound like I was being my usual cheeky self, but I wasn't. I was being very, very serious. And I believe they took me seriously, since the next thing I knew, my dad was calling from the Verizon store, going over all the options to upgrade our family plan. Seriously, if parents are worried about their spinster daughters living out their days as spinsters, the best thing to do is invest in their phone plan. There is really no way to snag Mr. Right without unlimited texts.

I believe it was this email that prompted mom to stick her nose into Gray's and my love lives, as it was evidence that we apparently were dating. She has always been notoriously non-evasive, which isn't always a bad thing, but got to the point of ridiculousness. Take this for example: instead of asking Grayer if she was seeing anyone, while giving her a good-bye hug, our mom asked her, "Is anyone else hugging you?" It's an incident that lives on in family infamy. At least between us it does.

But hey, at least she's not running around with a Portuguese tour operator who carries a gentleman's hand bag.

The third

So here's a situation. Never in my dating history has this ever happened before. It's funny. It's awkward. And it's definitely creepy. Conrad's dad, has friended me on Facebook.

No, Conrad III and I have never met. (Did I not mention that Conrad was a IVth? No? I was probably blocking it out, thinking it's bad enough his name is Conrad). No, Conrad IV and I are not dating. So why, oh why, is #3 requesting to be friends with me via FB?? Good question! It's not because he friends anyone/everyone, he only has about 40. Its not because he friends all of his son's friends, I checked. Perhaps, curiousity got the best of him.

Everyone has different relationships with their parents when it comes to relationships. Conrad obviously talks to his. In fact, he just told me that once he started mentioning my name (in our early coworker days), his dad predicted a hookup. The third is no schlum. He's also very young. While perusing his Facebook page (that in itself is much too technologically advanced for my parental units) I realized that he graduated high school the year I was born (All the Conrads spawn young). It couldn't be more different with my parents. It was just today to that Violet and I had a major breakthrough with our mother. And that breakthrough came in the form of asking me "So, how is your love life?" So simple, yet so effective. For the first time she asked, and for the first time, I told.

Back to the problem at hand, Conrad III's request sits untouched in my account. Do I friend him? At first I thought this was hilarious, it was only a few weeks ago I teased Conrad IV that I was going to friend his father, when he commented on one of my wallposts. So after a good laugh, it finally occurred to me, that this is a bit creepy! Even his son thinks it's creepy, though he doesn't seem to care one way or another of the outcome. It's not really that big of deal, but what do I do when it comes to the third? To friend, or not to friend?

Happy Birthday, Scarlet!

...will have to face up to the fact that another entire year has gone by, during which everyone else except me has mutated into Smug Married, having children plop, plop, plop, left right and center and making hundreds of thousands of pounds and inroads into very hub of establishment, while I career rudderless and boyfriendless through dysfunctional relationships and professional stagnation.

We get October started off with a bang, as it is Scarlet's birthday. And really, Scarlet, there is absolutely no reason for you to feel like Bridget. First of all, not everyone has mutated into a Smug Married. Grayer and I certainly haven't. Just like not everyone is plopping out kids left, right, and center. Again, Grayer and I are shining examples of childlessness. And finally, not everyone is making hundreds and thousands of pounds. At last check, Grayer and I were still living at poverty level.

So remember, when everyone else around you seems to have all their shit together, and you realize that your life is getting more and more like Bridget's every day (because trust me, it does) just remember one thing: We're right there with you. Happy Birthday, m'dear!