The way we were

Last night I saw the Karaoke Kid and The Roommate. Yes, it was the first time I saw them since that time. The first time since that time I left the Karaoke Kid passed out on the couch. The first time since that time I left the Roommate with a long kiss goodbye.

It's been well over a month. My contact with them has been limited to say the least. A few messages here and there with the Karaoke Kid (saying we should hang out, but it would only be as friends) and a whole lot of nothing from The Roommate. It was The Roommate that I was nervous to see when it was decided that I would be joining them and their other friends for trivia last night. Since I was nervous, I decided to bring my new go-to-girl, June (She's always up for anything, and I had a sneaking suspicion that she would really hit it off with their other roommate, The Hipster).

We didn't win in trivia (though I proved to myself the only knowledge I can retain is pop-culture knowledge) but we gave it a good college try over beers and huge burgers. Things were kind of like normal. But not.

The Karaoke Kid was fine. We made normal conversation. I realized he was shockingly unhelpful at trivia but still oddly good at karaoke (which is where we headed afterwards. His song of choice? Lisa Loeb's "Torn". The ladies loved it.) The problem was, while my attention was turned elsewhere, I'd catch him looking at me. Ok, not just looking at me, but giving me the look. The steamy, I'm-a-gonna-get-you-pregnant look. (No, I don't think he was thinking about getting me pregnant, but the intensity of the look could have gotten the job done). This is a problem because we are just friends. Perhaps that's how he looks at his friends....

The Roommate was...different. First of all, we didn't make eye contact for the first 15 minutes. When we did finally speak to each other, it was to discuss game strategy and to argue over an answer. Later, he made sure not to get wedged into the booth next to me. Then he was texting most of the night (I can only assume with a girl). I felt like he was going out of his way to make sure I knew that nothing is/was/or will ever happen between us. Yes, I get it.

No, things were not as they used to be, but what can you expect? There were too many complications in the past. But we finally all hung out again and it was fine, I would even call it progress. The good news is I totally called it with June and The Hipster. (But if I lose my new single friend for a guy with tight jeans, chunky glasses and a mullet, I'm gonna be pissed!)

Birthday Booty

Now that I'm old (25! eeeek!) I have a few things to blog about, please do your best to follow along.

1. My secret affair with The Roommate has ended. He texted me at the end of last week, saying he just couldn't take the guilt/awkward situations with his roommate/my former fling, The Karaoke Kid. Obviously the situation was complicated so this is for the best. KK did not find out (as far as I know) but claims he doesn't know why I just stopped talking to him. (Seriously someone needs to teach this guy how to date a girl!). To be honest I was disappointed to no longer see The Roommate (I was just making out with him 2 days previous!). We talked about all being friends in the future but he said he just needed some time before that could happen. Why does he need time?! I feel like I could just be friends with him...as long as I'm not left alone with him....The Roommate also said I need to talk The Karaoke Kid about just being friends. The problem is KK hasn't talked to me in a while and when I tried to start a conversation with him via text, he never responded. I don't really know where I stand with either of them now, which is disappointing because they were my progress in making friends in Boston. Look where it got me! Nowhere. Fine, I'll say it: You were right. But I'll also say: It was fun while it lasted.

2. Obviously nobody wants to have things end right before their birthday, especially when all one really wants to do for their birthday is A. get birthday drunk, and B. get birthday laid. Fortunately, I don't need a man to get my drink on, yet my prospects of Birthday booty were not looking good. If this blog (Fen) has taught us anything, it's that nothing is more dangerous then a lethal combination of wine, an erotic charge (that's smart people talk for horny), and a cell phone full of numbers. After assessing myself as a High threat risk (That's color orange, people!) I needed to take some preventative measures. I've learned something in my 25 years. I deleted The Roommate's phone number before going out. I would have been embarrassed after begging him to come home with me. I also warned my roommie not to let me text and she certainly held me to it. I got yelled at everytime I had my phone out, when all I was doing was texting Violet (who was prodding me to say something TFLN worthy).

3. So if you're following along, I am drunk and manless on my birthday. However, I had a really good night out, which included delicious dessert, a whole lot of wine, and a few friends, including The Mutual Friend. For those of you who need a refresher, The Mutual Friend has been my strictly platonic friend for over a year now. He's a good friend of my old hookup, Hanging Out Guy, and he too has relocated to Boston. Everytime I've hung out with MF I have to insist to my roommie, that he is in fact, just a friend. We get along really well, have great chemistry, are very flirtatious, but by no means do we have any interest in each other. On numerous occasions I've had to tell my roommie, very matter-of-factly, "He is just a friend, it is possible to be friends with someone without sleeping with them, ya know." Until it's your birthday and you're drunk and manless that is...
I'm not really sure how this happened. Sure, I flirted with him and texted Violet that I was going to marry him, but these are all normal things! I don't know how many glasses deep we were but my wine and his rum and cokes were taking effect. Our knees were touching under the table, he was holding my hand to lead me through a crowd, he was coming home with me on the basis that we were going to have a Disney movie marathon the next day, and then he was making out with me in my kitchen. At some points I started giggling, partly because I was drunk, partly because he is sooo skinny, but mostly because it was The Mutual Friend. WTF? It's not like we haven't been drunk together before. No, it wasn't awkward the next morning, yes, I will continue to be friends with him, and yes, I had a great birthday...

I realize that I keep getting myself into these situations, but in my defense (this time at least) it was my birthday. We all deserve to be Birthday drunk, we all have the right to Birthday booty. Even if he is just a friend.

Dangerous liaisons

Two weeks ago I came to you with a situation. A situation to end all situations. You gave me advice for my dilemma of two men in one apartment, the Karaoke Kid and The Roommate. Let's be honest, I wasn't going to take just-friends-or nothing-at-all advice. That's just not my style. So I continued to seek advice until I found some advice that I liked. A very wise friend pointed out something to me. They're guys. This simple fact makes everything ok. Think about it, if this occurred with two female roommates/friends, it would be the scandal of the century. Basically because women are overly dramatic and would have to see it as choosing a guy over a friend. Guys? Not so much.

Even The Roommate agreed with this assessment. When he told his other roommate and another close friend (both of whom were there that eventful night) they both responded with a "that's awesome." They agreed, we did nothing wrong. These things happen and it's the Karaoke Kid's own fault for blowing it. (This is all his fault really). Blowing it, seems to be a common theme with him and his lady friends. (My advice to him would be to actually make an effort to date a girl, look what happens when he just lazily invites a girl out with him and his friends. Seriously, look what happens!). Although the other friends know, we still haven't let the Karaoke Kid in on the secret.

Secret liaisons are not easy. Twice now, The Roommate has had to cancel on me because he finds himself alone with the Karaoke Kid. For guys that are always doing stuff together and have all the same friends, it would be very out of character for him to up and leave with no explanation. So why haven't we (or he) told KK? Good question. I think we're waiting it out. 1. KK is a sensitive guy and The Roommate doesn't think he'll take it as well as most guys would. 2. We're not going to make it a "thing" until it's actually a "thing". We don't know what we're doing, we're just hanging out right now. And 3. The "just friends" transition is happening as we speak. I haven't seen/heard from the Karaoke Kid since I slammed the door behind me that shameful morning (other than a text and a Facebook invite to a party this weekend). When I do actually see/talk to him, I will be sure to actually mention the "just friends" transition. (Me? Actually talk about something openly? Shocking, I know).

Reaping the Benefits

You all know of the drama that's gone on with Conrad. From friend, to friend with benefits, to imaginary boyfriend, to just friends. All the change could give any girl whiplash. Add extreme stress, and I experienced no less than the emotional turmoil of hurricane proportions. I know I've sworn off Conrad. And really I have. Except that I haven't. Do I think of him as more than a friend? No. Am I interested in him as a mere Imaginary Boyfriend? Hell No. Do I still have needs? Hell to the yeah.

Conrad and I haven't been friends with benefits in two months. Not to say that there hasn't been sexual tension. Fun sexual tension. The kind of sexual tension there was in the beginning. This afternoon we had lunch "meeting" with the rest of our labmembers, all while sitting across from each other holding silent conversations with our eyes. (While waiting for everyone else to show up, he had told me how pretty my eyes were before jokingly leaning in for a kiss, puckered and all). He was in a ridiculously good mood for finishing up with his hellish graduate class and I have been equally happy for finishing my thesis. So when I went to his house to kill time before my dinner date with 8-year-Lisa (who's moving out tomorrow, how sad!) I wasn't entirely surprised when something happened. It was afterall, the first time we'd been alone together in weeks. It was just so...fun! (Action, action we love action!)

Did it mean anything? No. Are we more than just friends? No. Will it happen again? Maybe. But it doesn't matter. The point is I'm capable of being just friends with benefits. No wanting more. No caring if he hangs out with another girl. I still do not condone imaginary relationships, but I feel we are now in a healthy situation for harmless benefits. Afterall, I'm no longer stressed out and crazy (I've officially graduated and cleaned out my desk!). And when he jokingly asked me, "Does this mean you're going to get clingy?" I literally slapped him across the stomach, chatted with him while I put on the rest of my clothes, and bid him adieu. At 8 pm on a Friday night. Now that is friends with benefits.

Take the lead

If Violet's recent kissing crusade was any evidence, women seem to have problems taking initiative in physical aspects of a "relationship." Sure, we've evolved to not wait around for the phone call, we even can ask men on dates, so what is with this hesitance to get what we need (yes, women have needs), nay, get what we deserve? Like Violet, why do we need to get all liquored up before making a first move? Just imagine if men had to do that. There would be drunken idiots everywhere (like, even more so than there already are).

I am not one to criticize, and only in my current non-relationship am I realizing just how much I depend on a man to make the moves. Hanging Out Guy was shy from the start and even though we've been hanging out since January (luckily I have records of our pseudo-courtship here on WWBD?), he really hasn't gotten better. I have to admit, after scheduling conflicts and of course Boston sports preventing us getting together for a while there, I haven't even kissed the guy in over a month. I know. A month. And if I haven't mentioned it before, I love to make out, almost as much as I love boys. And I Looooove boys.

So here's what I think has happened. The comfort level that we got to physically, has significantly decreased, while our natural female inhibition has returned (I say "our female inhibition" because I really think he should be grouped with ladies in the "taking the lead" category). I swear the only thing stopping me from jumping him, is the fact that I don't know if he now wants to be just friends, although it'd be surprising (because when do guys ever want to be just friends when there's benefits in the equation?). I don't understand this, especially when his friends seem to think we're "together" and he refuses to let me pay for things. Whatever the case, this insecurity is making me more timid than usual.

So, in light of Violet's recent lip-locking heroics, I pledge get some action this weekend, that is, if I see him. Ah hell, I pledge to get some action no matter what. Viva la Singletonhood!

Just a friendly make out session

As has been well-documented, I've engaged in flirtations of all kinds with John Boy over the last month or so. The sexual tension seemed to reach a breaking point over the weekend during a round of flirtexting, and I decided I was going to have to take control of the situation. I am a feminist, and if a woman wants to kiss a man why shouldn't she make the first move? This of course sounds great in theory, but execution is another matter. So before I saw John Boy last night, I called Scarlet for a bit of a pep talk. I still had some wine leftover from Scarlet's and my weekend wine binge, and I figured I would need to dip pretty heavily into that in order to muster up the courage to make the first move.

The evening got off to a pretty normal start. We ate dinner. We talked. We watched a movie. Although at some point during the movie I realized we were cuddling, and I thought to myself, 'Maybe I'm better at this seduction thing than I thought...' which is apparently true, because in the end, I didn't have to make the move. He went in 90%, I finished the 10. Yes!!!! And there was no creepy heavy breathing! And he didn't even try to chew my lips off with his teeth! Jackpot! (oh, dear, my standards have become very low, haven't they?)

So don't worry, Grayer, you don't have to stage an intervention of any kind. While nothing has changed in that he's still moving in about a month and one of my iron-clad dealbreakers is distance, that doesn't mean fun can't be had. I know I said I would just say no to imaginary boyfriends this year, but this is a Friends with Benefits situation, which is entirely different. An imaginary boyfriend is a boy you keep waiting to declare himself your boyfriend, whereas a friend with benefits understands the non-relationship aspect of the relationship. It's quite simple, really.

Flirting with Disaster?

Grayer is right. Things have been pretty slow here in WWBD? land. Although I do have an inbox full of worthy candidates into the online dating Hall of Shame, and several contacts that went straight down the Road to Nowhere, there has really been nothing to report.

Except for my mounting sexual frustration, made only worse by my increasingly flirtatious encounters with John Boy.

Yes, I know I told him we should just be friends. Yes, I know he's moving in a mere 40 days. And yes, I know that he really, really likes me, and I should therefore cease and desist with the flirting immediately. But not only can I not do that, I don't want to do that. The more we hang out, the more fun I have, and the more I like him. Last night, the flirtations and the sexual tension went up quite a few notches, and yet, nothing happened. Why? Because I told him I wanted to be "just friends" and he is a true southerner, and a good enough guy to respect that, no matter how much he's dying to put the moves on me (and he is). If anything is going to happen, it's going to be up to me to initiate it, and that is not an area in which I excel.

Which means I have no choice but to consume mass quantities of wine the next time I see him. Channeling my inner Bridget...