On Sunday I got a VIP tour of an apple orchard for my second date with the ever adorable Jonny Damon. It was a great day to be outside, walk around the orchard/Christmas tree farm, eat apples right off the tree, and meet his family. What the what?! you say? Yep, I met his aunt and uncle, who own the orchard. I met them for far longer then he intended. I got a tour of their farmhouse and barn. I even got to look through the cool old family stuff they had just pulled out of the attic. I even got introduced as "My nephew Jonny Damon and his...fr...frrrriend???, Grayer." (This made us look at each other and laugh). I even got a free bag of apples (score!). This premature meeting of the family didn't bother me. JD's aunt and uncle are kind of awesome. When we got back in the car I asked if we should just go meet his parents while we're at it. "I like to save that for the third date" he says with a killer smile, looking at me for far to long to be safely driving. Swoon. Did I mention how cute he is? Sooooo cuuuute.
After the orchard we went back to his place. It was Sunday after all, and that's Patriots day. Of course, I was cool enough not to mind if we watched football all afternoon, because I really don't mind watching football. But what really impressed him is my (limited) knowledge of the team. Thanks, free subway paper that rarely covers anything other than Boston sports! Although we watched the game, I honestly feel like he was paying more attention to me than the tv. At half time we flipped to HGTV. For dinner, he made me mac & cheese and Totino's pizza rolls and then we watched several episodes of Are You Afraid of the Dark?. It's like he knows just what to do to impress me.
I stayed pretty late that night, making it possibly one of the longest dates ever. He had a pretty bad cold so getting a little cozy under his Patriots blanket was all that happened (although he did ask if I wanted to makeout right after every particularly phlegmy cough). But when he walked me to my car I really wanted to kiss him. So I did. And when I'm calling in sick with a bad cold later this week, I still won't regret it.
Showing posts with label meeting the parents. Show all posts
Showing posts with label meeting the parents. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Parental preppin'
My (and Violet's) parental units are visiting this weekend. This will be the first time they've visited since I've lived in Boston and I've spent the evening preparing for the occasion. I don't have a special boy to introduce them to or anything (nor can I tell you about introducing them to a special boy) so I feel like I have to make up for it by impressing them with my daily life. You know impress them with my "big city life" i.e. my little apartment, my huge workplace, my easy navigation of public transportation, and my cultured taste for ethnic food (where Violet and I are from, the only "ethnic" food is a Chinese buffet and that doesn't count because they also serve chicken nuggets). So this is what I've been doing this evening:
- Cleaning. Obviously. Some people may not notice dust but those some people are not my parents. Ok, so it's not just dust, my room usually looks like a closet threw up in it. And to be honest, I've lived here 7 months now and I still haven't figured out where to put some things. I'm sure my mom will have several opinions on that subject. She's ever so helpful *eyeroll*
- Grocery shopping. Can't really say what I've been eating this week. I think mostly apples/applesauce (I went apple picking last weekend). I'm guessing that the parentals won't be too crazy about that idea. Also, I don't want them eating all my apples!
- Emailing the roommates. Partly to warn them, partly to beg them to not be giant drunken slutbags this weekend. You think it would be a given, seeing that I rarely have guests over and these happen to be my parents, that maybe they should stay low-key or if nothing else, go elsewhere. It shouldn't be too much to ask, but that would be giving them too much credit. So I specifically asked that they have a low-key weekend and even "paid them off" by taking on all the chores this week. This better work because if I overhear sex moans while sitting on the sofa with my mother I will 1. kill them and 2. immediately escort my parents to the nearest hotel without making eye contact with either of them, yet possibly have to stay with them because I'll be a wanted felon.
- Hiding things. So I know I'm an adult and all but my mother has a tendency to get into things. Not really sure how she does it (I hope to inherit this gift) but say if there were some, um, personal items in your dresser drawer she'll somehow come across these, um, items within the first 10 minutes of her visit. And that's not really something I want to experience. That being said those condoms in my nightstand now have a new home. (On a side note I've realized those condoms expire in December and I find myself hoping against hope that I will have a reason to use them before then. Come. On!) One thing I will not be hiding is my "Condoms don't protect the heart" sticker. It was a gift from my mum, afterall.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
The Anti-climax
Last week, I told you about the impending weekend with my parents, which was not only going to involve them meeting the cute neighbor for the first time, but a possible reaction to my sleeping over at his house, since I was being so generous as to give up my bedroom to them.
The first meeting took place on Friday night. We were all going to a baseball game. Good first meeting, as there is not too much pressure to keep a conversation up and running. The meeting went well; better than the baseball game, but that's another story. I don't really have too much to report from the first meeting. In fact, I'm afraid this entire story will just bore everyone, it was so drama-free.
We got back from the game pretty late, and the cute neighbor said good night to my parents and vice versa. I went inside to get everyone settled. While I was brushing my teeth, my dad asked if I was going to sack out on the couch. I said, "I'll probably just go across the street." He said, "Ok." Then my mom asked me the same question. I gave her the same answer. She too said, "Ok. So we'll just see you when we see you in the morning?" "Yup," I said. And that was that. Transition into adulthood: Complete.
I wasn't really expecting any drama. First of all, my parents don't criticize life decisions that Grayer or I make. Yes, my mom may suggest that I keep my bread in a different location in my kitchen, or ask why I'm taking a certain route home when I am the one who lives here, thank you very much, so I do indeed know my way around. But when it comes to things that actually matter, they stay quiet. When I told them I was quitting my job to go to South America for several months, they said, "Ok." Second, I am an adult. I live 1,000 miles away from them. They raised me to be an independent grown-up. They did their job. They can't say anything.
Saturday evening, we grilled burgers on my porch. The cute neighbor contributed to the meal with a side dish and beer (which my parents don't drink, and he knew). Afterward, the friend who introduced me to the cute neighbor (and who is from my hometown, which is very strange and has a sister who lives in Boston. We're like the same person.) stopped by to say hello and we all played cards. It was actually quite a fun evening. I got a little nervous when the cute neighbor made some slightly bawdy jokes, such as suggesting Tiger Woods should have stuck to whoring, which was apparently good for his golf game, but my parents just laughed. I mean, really laughed.
I knew they liked him when they kept asking me if he was joining us on our other endeavors throughout the weekend. When it was time for them to leave, they told me that it had been nice meeting him, with my mom adding her classic mom line: "He's nice." But then, she went above and beyond her usual mom line and actually added, "He's funny." Wow. That is some high praise right there. To actually form an opinion beyond "nice?" My dad even followed up with an email today, telling me, "Very nice to meet [the cute neighbor]- seems like a good guy."
Sorry I couldn't bring home the drama or even a really funny meet the parents story, but sadly the cute neighbor is just too cool to try to tell my dad that he can milk anything with nipples or break anybody's nose playing volleyball. He's got strong approval ratings from Fenella and now my parents. Next up: Grayer!
The first meeting took place on Friday night. We were all going to a baseball game. Good first meeting, as there is not too much pressure to keep a conversation up and running. The meeting went well; better than the baseball game, but that's another story. I don't really have too much to report from the first meeting. In fact, I'm afraid this entire story will just bore everyone, it was so drama-free.
We got back from the game pretty late, and the cute neighbor said good night to my parents and vice versa. I went inside to get everyone settled. While I was brushing my teeth, my dad asked if I was going to sack out on the couch. I said, "I'll probably just go across the street." He said, "Ok." Then my mom asked me the same question. I gave her the same answer. She too said, "Ok. So we'll just see you when we see you in the morning?" "Yup," I said. And that was that. Transition into adulthood: Complete.
I wasn't really expecting any drama. First of all, my parents don't criticize life decisions that Grayer or I make. Yes, my mom may suggest that I keep my bread in a different location in my kitchen, or ask why I'm taking a certain route home when I am the one who lives here, thank you very much, so I do indeed know my way around. But when it comes to things that actually matter, they stay quiet. When I told them I was quitting my job to go to South America for several months, they said, "Ok." Second, I am an adult. I live 1,000 miles away from them. They raised me to be an independent grown-up. They did their job. They can't say anything.
Saturday evening, we grilled burgers on my porch. The cute neighbor contributed to the meal with a side dish and beer (which my parents don't drink, and he knew). Afterward, the friend who introduced me to the cute neighbor (and who is from my hometown, which is very strange and has a sister who lives in Boston. We're like the same person.) stopped by to say hello and we all played cards. It was actually quite a fun evening. I got a little nervous when the cute neighbor made some slightly bawdy jokes, such as suggesting Tiger Woods should have stuck to whoring, which was apparently good for his golf game, but my parents just laughed. I mean, really laughed.
I knew they liked him when they kept asking me if he was joining us on our other endeavors throughout the weekend. When it was time for them to leave, they told me that it had been nice meeting him, with my mom adding her classic mom line: "He's nice." But then, she went above and beyond her usual mom line and actually added, "He's funny." Wow. That is some high praise right there. To actually form an opinion beyond "nice?" My dad even followed up with an email today, telling me, "Very nice to meet [the cute neighbor]- seems like a good guy."
Sorry I couldn't bring home the drama or even a really funny meet the parents story, but sadly the cute neighbor is just too cool to try to tell my dad that he can milk anything with nipples or break anybody's nose playing volleyball. He's got strong approval ratings from Fenella and now my parents. Next up: Grayer!
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Meet the Parents
My parents are coming for a visit this weekend. You know what that means. The cute neighbor is going to meet the parents.
I'm not really worried about what they're going to think of him. He already has very high approval ratings from The Important People he's met thus far, most notably Fenella, and this will be the first boy Grayer or I have introduced to our parents in a very, very long time. Years, actually. They want grandchildren. He is very highly educated and well-groomed. They will love him.
While my mom can be kind of a wild-card, I'm not too worried about what he will think of them, either. Mainly because my dad is probably one of the most likable people on the planet. They may be a bit nerdy, what with their ballroom dance habit and bike helmet rear view mirrors, but they're not dealbreakers for sure.
No, what will make this weekend interesting is where I choose to sleep. Being the top-notch hostess that I am, I will surrender my bedroom to my parents. Thus leaving me with two sleeping options:
1. I sleep on one of our two couches.
2. I do what I normally do, especially on the weekends, and sleep at the cute neighbor's house.
The last time I brought a boy home (in college, people) he was exiled to the guest bedroom. (In case you're wondering, yes, we found ways around this.) So you would think I should be sleeping on the couch, right?
Oh, no. I'm going rogue. I am a grown-up. I am 27 years old. Very nearly 28. If I want to have a sleep-over with my boyfriend, I very well will. And why should I have to spend a night tossing and turning on the couch while the cat pulls my hair when I can get a comfortable night's sleep in a comfortable bed? If he didn't live across the street, we may have a different story, but he lives across the street. I can see his front door from mine. If they think for a minute that that isn't happening on a regular basis, they need a reality check.
Aren't you worried about what they're going to say? you ask. That's the beauty of it. They won't say anything. That would mean having an uncomfortable conversation, and if there is one thing we are really, truly good at in this family, it is avoiding uncomfortable conversations. I mean yes, our mom sent Grayer a condom sticker, but she didn't actually say anything about it.
So check in next week when I give an update, and Grayer relays what the parents have to say about it.
I'm not really worried about what they're going to think of him. He already has very high approval ratings from The Important People he's met thus far, most notably Fenella, and this will be the first boy Grayer or I have introduced to our parents in a very, very long time. Years, actually. They want grandchildren. He is very highly educated and well-groomed. They will love him.
While my mom can be kind of a wild-card, I'm not too worried about what he will think of them, either. Mainly because my dad is probably one of the most likable people on the planet. They may be a bit nerdy, what with their ballroom dance habit and bike helmet rear view mirrors, but they're not dealbreakers for sure.
No, what will make this weekend interesting is where I choose to sleep. Being the top-notch hostess that I am, I will surrender my bedroom to my parents. Thus leaving me with two sleeping options:
1. I sleep on one of our two couches.
2. I do what I normally do, especially on the weekends, and sleep at the cute neighbor's house.
The last time I brought a boy home (in college, people) he was exiled to the guest bedroom. (In case you're wondering, yes, we found ways around this.) So you would think I should be sleeping on the couch, right?
Oh, no. I'm going rogue. I am a grown-up. I am 27 years old. Very nearly 28. If I want to have a sleep-over with my boyfriend, I very well will. And why should I have to spend a night tossing and turning on the couch while the cat pulls my hair when I can get a comfortable night's sleep in a comfortable bed? If he didn't live across the street, we may have a different story, but he lives across the street. I can see his front door from mine. If they think for a minute that that isn't happening on a regular basis, they need a reality check.
Aren't you worried about what they're going to say? you ask. That's the beauty of it. They won't say anything. That would mean having an uncomfortable conversation, and if there is one thing we are really, truly good at in this family, it is avoiding uncomfortable conversations. I mean yes, our mom sent Grayer a condom sticker, but she didn't actually say anything about it.
So check in next week when I give an update, and Grayer relays what the parents have to say about it.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Belated Weekend Update
I'm a bit late on the Weekend Update, but Grayer and I are preparing for a tropical vacay, so you'll have to excuse me. On top of that, not only did I meet many of the cute neighbor's friends over the weekend, but I also had dinner with him and his dad last night.
First up: the weekend. The good news is, I didn't need nearly as much wine as I thought. I think it helped that two members of the group didn't show up until Saturday, so I had the first night with only three new people, all of which were very friendly. When the other two showed up, I was actually a bit happy to learn that one was a girlfriend, and didn't know anybody either. Turns out, she's even quieter than I am. All in all, it was nothing to stress out about, and I don't have too much to report.
The Cute Neighbor's dad is in town for work this week, so the cute neighbor asked if I wanted to join them for dinner last night. I accepted, and then took on the difficult task of figuring out what to wear when having dinner with your boyfriend and his father when it's 97 degrees outside. (I settled on sensible shorts and a polo.) You would think I would be just as nervous, if not more so to have dinner with the dad. Not so. As it so happens, I've already met his dad. Twice. I've met both his parents, and one of his brothers. Advantage of being just neighbors for awhile before an actual couple: meeting important people in no-pressure situations.
It's interesting though, to see other people interact with their parents. I wouldn't call Grayer's and my parents conservative, per se, but there are certain things we just don't discuss with them. (I mean, I did have Grayer tell my parents via family announcement about my actual boyfriend.) So it was interesting to see his dad use his "Position of the Day" book as a coaster for his beer (which my parents don't drink). I was even more amused when he looked at the book title and said, "Surely there can't be that many positions." To which the cute neighbor responded, "Some of them are physically impossible." This is a conversation that would never, EVER take place between me or Grayer and our parents.
Other than that, it was a completely casual, uneventful Dinner with the Dad.
But don't worry, Grayer and I will have plenty of shenanigans to report from the jungle. We promise.
First up: the weekend. The good news is, I didn't need nearly as much wine as I thought. I think it helped that two members of the group didn't show up until Saturday, so I had the first night with only three new people, all of which were very friendly. When the other two showed up, I was actually a bit happy to learn that one was a girlfriend, and didn't know anybody either. Turns out, she's even quieter than I am. All in all, it was nothing to stress out about, and I don't have too much to report.
The Cute Neighbor's dad is in town for work this week, so the cute neighbor asked if I wanted to join them for dinner last night. I accepted, and then took on the difficult task of figuring out what to wear when having dinner with your boyfriend and his father when it's 97 degrees outside. (I settled on sensible shorts and a polo.) You would think I would be just as nervous, if not more so to have dinner with the dad. Not so. As it so happens, I've already met his dad. Twice. I've met both his parents, and one of his brothers. Advantage of being just neighbors for awhile before an actual couple: meeting important people in no-pressure situations.
It's interesting though, to see other people interact with their parents. I wouldn't call Grayer's and my parents conservative, per se, but there are certain things we just don't discuss with them. (I mean, I did have Grayer tell my parents via family announcement about my actual boyfriend.) So it was interesting to see his dad use his "Position of the Day" book as a coaster for his beer (which my parents don't drink). I was even more amused when he looked at the book title and said, "Surely there can't be that many positions." To which the cute neighbor responded, "Some of them are physically impossible." This is a conversation that would never, EVER take place between me or Grayer and our parents.
Other than that, it was a completely casual, uneventful Dinner with the Dad.
But don't worry, Grayer and I will have plenty of shenanigans to report from the jungle. We promise.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
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?
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?
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Unexpected Arrival
Last weekend I had Meetup Matt (MM) over for dinner. I cooked dinner, he brought wine, we cuddled on the couch and held hands…there was only one thing missing…makeout action. I thought it was kind of cute that we hung out all night and he didn’t make a move (even though it clearly would have been welcome). However, over the following week I found myself more and more anxious about the impending first kiss. What if it was bad? What if there was no chemistry? How long was it going to take for him to gather the courage to kiss me?
After several days of turmoil, I hung out with MM again. Once again it was the perfect atmosphere for him to make a move. We watched some TV, cuddled on the couch, and he finally made his move. Hoorah! The make out session was excellent until…
His mom walked in the house. MM’s mom was in town and said that she would call before she stopped by the house. Unfortunately for us she did not follow through on this. We quickly separated and moved to opposite ends of the couch like guilty teenagers. Knowing that I probably looked disheveled, I frantically tried to fix my hair…I’m not sure how successful I was in this desperate attempt to tidy myself up. Luckily we were fully clothed. I’m still not sure how much MM’s mom suspected as she didn’t comment on the situation. While the situation definitely could have been worse, I would have preferred to have been, umm, more prepared to meet his mother.
Anyway, MM did walk me to my car and kissed me goodbye. Next weekend MM invited me to a party with some of his non-meetup friends. v. good progress!
After several days of turmoil, I hung out with MM again. Once again it was the perfect atmosphere for him to make a move. We watched some TV, cuddled on the couch, and he finally made his move. Hoorah! The make out session was excellent until…
His mom walked in the house. MM’s mom was in town and said that she would call before she stopped by the house. Unfortunately for us she did not follow through on this. We quickly separated and moved to opposite ends of the couch like guilty teenagers. Knowing that I probably looked disheveled, I frantically tried to fix my hair…I’m not sure how successful I was in this desperate attempt to tidy myself up. Luckily we were fully clothed. I’m still not sure how much MM’s mom suspected as she didn’t comment on the situation. While the situation definitely could have been worse, I would have preferred to have been, umm, more prepared to meet his mother.
Anyway, MM did walk me to my car and kissed me goodbye. Next weekend MM invited me to a party with some of his non-meetup friends. v. good progress!
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