Hot for Teacher

I teach. I teach adults. Some of my students are older than I am. Some of them are younger. Some of them are the same age. While I've been known to socialize with students, (as neither of the schools I've worked for have had policies against it, it's not that serious) I don't date them. That's just weird.

Earlier this week, I was checking my email before class, when a student who is not in any of my classes asked me if I had a good weekend. Since my weekend involved dressing up like a figure skater and telling strangers I was a gold medalist, I replied that it was. Then he asked if I went away with my boyfriend. "Nooo," I said slowly, thinking that was a strange question to ask. Then I remembered that it had been Valentine's Day. Just goes to show how easy that non-holiday is to ignore. "Why not?" he asked. Without thinking, I said, "Because I don't have a boyfriend."

As soon as I said it, I knew why he asked it. Especially since I kept catching him watching me for the past week. Sure enough, not two minutes later, he asked if he could see me outside of class. This is not the first time a student has asked me out, and I am a master of avoiding and wriggling out of awkward situations. I told him sure, sometime, but not this week, as I'm very busy and important, but, you know, sometime. Of course, this took longer than normal because he has only been in the country for a few weeks and speaks little to no English. My strategy (as it has always been) is that by continuing to say "sometime" they will either give up or forget about it. In the past, it has been very effective.

I immediately went to Fenella, since she has also been in this same situation before. While all of our colleagues were dating (or just sleeping with) students, she and I stayed out of that. I gave her the need-to-knows:

1. He's not my student, and never will be.
2. He speaks almost no English. And while I'm used to speaking to people who don't speak much English, conversation would be extremely difficult. (Although as Grayer pointed out, we both know the language of love.) Dinner conversation would consist of a lot of pointing and "Fork!" "Waiter!" Although, come to think of it, that may be better than some of the conversations I've had on dates...
3. He's an Italian Dreamboat.
4. He's a smoker.

Sadly, Number 4 cancels out everything else, as we would just have a repeat of Popcorn Man.

I managed to avoid the Italian Dreamboat all week, until Friday. After he had won a school-wide musical chairs competition, I gave him a high-five (which I had to do, as I had done the same for the runners-up). He kept a grip on my hand, and (I'm not kidding here) nuzzled it to his cheek. Only an Italian Dreamboat can pull this one off.

A bit later, I was gathering my stuff up in my classroom, when he walked in and handed me a piece of paper. For a brief, horrifying moment, I was afraid I would open it to find "Do you like me? Check yes or no." Fortunately/Unfortunately, it was his number. "For Saturday," he said. "uhhhhh, I have plans, I can't." Then, so he could understand more easily, "I'M. BUSY." This did not phase him. "Sunday then." "O-ok," I said, surprised at how sure he was of this. Oh, to be Italian. And a dreamboat. He laughed. "You don't like me," he shrugged. "I didn't say that. It's just... I'm busy." I have no idea why I felt the need to explain. I could have just told him I didn't want to go out with him, but his English is so bad that all he would hear is the word "No" and then it would just be mean. Now I've missed out on the opportunity to explain that I don't date students. Or smokers.

Is it some sort of Murphy's Law that you will only be pursued by people you don't want to be pursued by? Murphy's Dating Law?

Wanted: Person

I need a new person.

This morning I received news from Conrad that he had been in the hospital last night. Apparently after hours of pain and limited vision, he got a friend to drive him to the emergency room. Apparently he had a chemical burn to the cornea from working in the lab. Scary! After making sure he was ok, which he is, I realized something. He didn't even tell me about it. I don't blame him for not asking me to take him to the hospital (I live 15 minutes away) but he didn't even mention it. Yes (Violet) I know he's not my boyfriend and he doesn't have to tell me anything, but come on.

If I was at home alone freaking about my burning eyes and loss of vision, I would be freaking out to him about my burning eyes and loss of vision. He's my person!

"You can't be sleeping with your person."

Ok (Violet) so Conrad and I may not be the Meredith and Christina of persons, but we have each other. Sometimes. When we feel like it. For right now anyways.

"Yeah you're not his person."

Yes (Violet) I'm not his person! No amount of pain, burning, or possibility of irreversible damage could get him to even send a complaining text message. I am not his person. So why did I think I was? Maybe because I talk to him everyday? Maybe because he's my closest/most geographically desirable friend right now? Maybe because things between him and I are the best they've ever been? (and by best I mean worst).

"You need a new person."

I know (Violet), I totally need a new person. One who will call me to take them to the hospital. One who I will freak out about things to. One who I'm not sleeping with. Now accepting applications.

Guys from work = NO!

A couple weeks ago I was out with work people. I went up to the bar and got talking to a guy who works for the same organisation as I do but in our other office. Half an hour later two of my friends come up to me, all drunkenly dramatic demanding where I had been, they had been looking everywhere for me. I asked them where they had looked. Answer? The toilets. Oh what I reputation I must have.

We returned to our group of people and continued chatting and exchanged numbers. I didn't think much of it because although he's tall, funny and Australian (check, check and check) physically I'm not really attracted to him and as shallow as it may be you need to be physically attracted to a person, at least a little bit. But the next day, to my surprise, my phone bleeped with a text message that wasn't from my mother. It was from Max From The Media Team (MFTMT). After text chatting for a bit he asked if I wanted to meet up at some point. Hmmmm...

I thought about it. Now normally I wouldn't get involved with a guy from work because it could get messy but I reasoned that 1.) he's leaving the organisation in a few weeks 2.) he works in the other office and 3.) he has seen the movie Sixteen Candles. And although I'm not physically attracted to him I had fun chatting with him and I haven't been on many dates so it could be good practice. So I said yes, we decided on a day and he said he would contact me closer to the time to finalise details.

However, we're supposed to be meeting tomorrow and I've heard nothing. I checked the text he sent me, he said he would contact me. Humph. I spoke to him on the phone last week at work so I would've thought that would have reminded him. Then today I answered someone else's phone and it was him. So the day before we're supposed to meet he spoke to me. Therefore, I would say there is really no excuse for not remembering about pre-arranged plans.

How humiliating. A guy that I'm not really interested in isn't contacting me. Oh dear. Get the violins out ladies.

NB: I am fully aware there is still time for him to contact me. But he's cutting it a bit fine. We'll see.

Where is the excitement?

This weekend I had two dates with two different guys. With all the online dating that I've done, you would think that this would have happened before now, but actually this was a first. (I live in a small town so, the geographically desirable online dating pool is more of a puddle.)

The first date of the weekend was with Teddy. Teddy and I had been out two other times. Honestly, I don't have anything bad to say about him. He is outdoorsy, educated, well mannered, and sweet. Teddy seems to be an all around nice guy and we have a lot in common. I could go on about his positive qualities, but if I was completely honest with myself then I'd admit that I was just trying to reassure myself that he is a great catch. The thing is that I don't get excited when he calls. When he tries to make plans with me, I sometimes find myself making excuses like I have to study or go to the gym. Even when I'm making the excuses I know that I shouldn't, but I can't seem to stop myself. It shouldn't be this easy to be a cool aloof ice queen, right? On the other hand, I feel like I should give Teddy a chance, because I do have fun with him and it is easy to talk to him. He is the type of guy I would be friends with. How long can I date him before I make a decision?

My second date of the weekend was with Mascot Guy. Mascot Guy had several photos of himself with mascots up on his profile. I had asked him about this, so the first thing that he did on our date was pull out his camera and show me at least 20 other pictures with mascots. And this was only from this past year, he told me he has more! I guess this is kind of a cool hobby, but I have to say, it was a little weird on a first date. I asked him how often he goes to games and I got the impression this isn't just a hobby, it is an obsession. This might not have been as disappointing if I was at all athletic or went to sporting events for the games rather than the experience, friends, and the people watching. Also, I found myself wondering if the mascot thing is the most interesting thing about him. Still the conversation wasn't bad.

After Mascot Guy inhaled his food, he started to get antsy. He went and paid before I was even halfway done. He wanted to know if I wanted to go somewhere else, but he couldn't come up with anything to do. I told him I wouldn't mind staying there a little longer longer. Mascot Guy told me he thought sticking around at the restaurant longer would be weird. This was after maybe 45 minutes. He asked me if I was ready to go before I'd even finished my drink. Seriously, what was the rush? Mascot guy was out the door of the restaurant, while I was still standing at the table zipping up my coat! He waited outside and gave me a hug in the middle of the road telling me that we should do it again. I couldn't help but think this was kind of rude. Within 15 minutes of the date, he had texted me to say he had a great time and can't wait to do it again. How can he be so over eager but in such a rush to end a date at the same time? I'm wondering if maybe Mascot Guy was just really nervous and it would be worth giving him a second chance. What do you think?

I find online dating to be kind of unnatural. You meet a guy and feel like you have to instantly decide if there is chemistry. I had amazing chemistry with MM and even with him there wasn't instant chemistry. We were friends for a while first. Still, I think that I deserve to find someone that I'm excited about. Don't we all deserve to find someone who gives us butterflies in our stomachs? I haven't completely written these guys off yet, but I'm going to continue looking.

Don't drink and text!...or should you?

Here's an equation sure to get you a lot of regret:

Alcohol+boredom+a cell phone

Last night, I was out with the cute neighbor on a S.A.D. bar crawl. We were supposed to be meeting up with other single friends, but that didn't end up working out. (Although I realized that I really need to make some local female friends. I was planning on spending the evening with the cute neighbor, McNerdy, and the umpire. Those are the three friends I hang out with most frequently. Kind of hard to meet other men when with men.) The cute neighbor and I were having a good time, however, drinking too much and telling people that we were indeed Olympic ice dancers. We won gold in Torino, you see, but failed to qualify for Vancouver, apparently because I showed up to the qualifier hungover. Drunk people will believe anything. ANYTHING.

Later on in the evening, I wrapped up a conversation with an accountant who lives on my street and apparently goes to my gym. He left, and we ordered another round, and the cute neighbor started chatting up a girl. I looked around for someone to talk to, but by that time of night, everyone was either too far gone, or had already found their evening hook-up. I was full of vodka, I was bored, I whipped out my phone. I texted the Dark Horse. Something along the lines of my being an undisputed twister champion, and being extremely bendy, and shouldn't we take advantage of that?

It seemed like a brilliant idea at the time, but when I woke up this morning, I thought: Undo! Undo! Undo! That sounds that I heard was my status at having achieved ice queen nirvana flying- no, whooshing- out the window. I know that on the drunk-text scale (which we should really establish) of 1-10, 1 being "Haha, that was funny" and 10 being "I want to die, I want to die, I want to DIE," this one would probably fall on the lower end of the scale. But still. After consulting with both Grayer and Fenella, I sent my retraction: "Apologies. Must learn to never drink and text." Within a few minutes, a response: "No, it was funny!"

Whew.

Hours later, while I was watching actual figure skating on tv, a text dings: It was the Dark Horse, apologizing for not sending much of a response earlier, followed by "sooo... you're bendy, eh??? ;)"

Huh.

I responded that I am in fact bendy, and that I won 5 straight games of Twister while wearing a figure skating costume. Impressive?

Indeed. Then he asked if I still had the costume.

It was most unexpected. And very interesting. Apparently when there is no pressure of an actual relationship, you have nothing to lose and throw all the rules out, "going rogue" can work out well.

But just to be on the safe side, I think I'll hand my phone over to a responsible adult next time.

Playlist: Singles' Awareness Day, Volume II

Happy S.A.D.! I just didn't have the inspiration for this year's S.A.D. playlist, which simply cannot compete with last year's playlist, which I thought was excellent. Refer back to that one, as this year's edition was hastily thrown together. My apologies.

Haven't Met You Yet- Michael Buble
Never Recover- The Cardigans
Love is Dead- The Lovemakers
Friday I'm in Love- The Cure
Single Ladies- Beyonce
Two Atoms in a Molecule (If Love is Just a Game, How Come I've Never Won?)- Noah and the Whale
Maneater- Hall & Oates
Love Song for No One- John Mayer
Bad Romance- Lady Gaga
Hologram- Katie Herzig

Twister Champion

Last night, a friend of mine had a birthday party. And since her birthday fell on the same day as the Opening Ceremonies, she had an Olympic-themed party, and requested that she see a lot of spandex and sequins. As soon as I got the invite, I texted the cute neighbor, and told him we should go as ice dancers. He not only responded with a yes, but suggested that we go tanning and choreograph a routine. And that is why we are friends.

We went all out. I managed to find a sparkly leotard (with snaps in the crotch!) and a ruffly black skirt to go over it. I bought shiny pantyhose, French braided my hair, wore waaaay too much make-up: rouge, lipstick, eyeshadow, the works. Cute neighbor wore my black pants, so they were a bit shiny and super-snug (didn't leave much to the imagination), and a billowy-white shirt, ala Brian Boitano. I put some blush on him too, and then the kicker: We wore matching sparkly headbands. He looked like something straight out of Riverdance, but our costumes were excellent. We even practiced our bows.

The party was in jeopardy, as it was snowing an actual, legitimate snowfall, and it never does that here. They don't even have snowplows, so it's best to stay inside when that happens, but I had purchased a sparkly leotard, dammit! I was going even if I had to cross-country ski there!

We made it safely, but when we walked in the door, I noticed an extreme lack of spandex and sequins. Everyone was wearing jeans and sweaters. Not a single speed-skater or hockey player in sight. I mean, shouldn't there at least be a couple of snowboarders? That's simple enough. Had it not been for the cute neighbor, it would have been exactly like Bridget Jones when she walked into the tarts and vicars party dressed as a playboy bunny only to find out they had canceled the theme and everyone is wearing country casuals.

But the cute neighbor and I were not about to sulk in the corner in a borrowed floral print dress. We embraced it. We posed for goofy pictures. We owned it. I even played Twister in my skating costume, and was the undisputed gold-medalist, as I won all 5 games we played. (I'm incredibly bendy. How is it that I'm so single?) The cute neighbor and I made an excellent team off the ice as well, and dominated Cranium. It was a good time.

However, the party was not all gold medals and congratulatory bouquets. There was a couple there who were way too affectionate with each other. Like nuzzling her neck kind of affectionate. The kind that make you feel incredibly awkward to be in the same room. But the most jaw-dropping moment came when they left the party. He got her coat. Fine. He helped her put it on. Old-school, but fine. Then he ZIPPED IT UP FOR HER. WTF? Is this woman incapable of zipping up her own coat? I zipped up Eloise's coat before we went outside to play in the snow, but she's 5! I made eyes at the cute neighbor and jerked my head in their direction so he could witness it too. He burst out laughing. Then he said something to me in a far-too-loud whisper, asking me if I needed him to help me button up my coat when it was time to leave. I mean, seriously. Seriously?

And now I'm the owner of a sparkly leotard. Perhaps the cute neighbor and I will be Torvill and Dean for Halloween?