Bring on the Turkey

The cute neighbor and I have survived our first major holiday together.

Things got off to a rocky start, as we found ourselves pulling off the highway nervously after hearing an ominous noise coming from my car not quite halfway into the trip. Sure enough, my car was broken and couldn't be fixed until the next day at the earliest. This is why God created rental cars, and we drove the rest of the way in a rented Nissan (rental car and all repairs were paid for by my normal mechanic who made a whopper of a mistake the previous day) and picked my car up on the way home.

Everything else went about as well as it could have, despite some potential awkwardness. First, the cute neighbor's grandma asked (while on speaker phone) if he and his brothers were planning on "having a triple wedding or something" since all of them are currently dating someone. Then, during the holiday game of pass the phone around, the cute neighbor's dad handed me the phone not once but TWICE to talk to his aunt and the aforementioned grandma respectively, who were both anxious to talk to the cute neighbor's "friend."

His mom had lots of little cute neighbor stories to tell me and I somehow managed to beat everyone in poker, although I'm still not sure how or why. (I don't really know how to play poker.) Things went so well, that I told him he was welcome to spend Christmas with my family, (obviously know he won't) despite my hesitations on inviting someone into the family circle.

Which reminds me: I really, really need to go ahead an book a flight home for Christmas...

Bah Humbug!

I've just seen the Coca-Cola Christmas advert. It must be Christmas. Ugh.

Now, I'm not a Scrooge, I do actually quite like Christmas. Obviously not the insane commercialism of it, but the odd family traditions, the Christmas dinner and of course, presents.

Which leads me to my bah humbug! moment. Buying presents for boys. Or, more specifically, buying presents for boyfriends. I hate it. And it's expensive.

I just find buying presents for boys really, really difficult. What's irritating is that it's so much easier for guys to buy for girls. Mainly because the shops cater to girl presents so much more so, even if you're stuck on ideas the shops will probably help you out, thus making the lives of boyfriends the world over much, much easier. Namely because you can buy girls presents in the following categories:

- Jewellery. All guys would need to do is pay attention to what type of jewellery their girlfriend wears most often. For example, I never wear bracelets but always wear earrings. Simple. (Unless of course you're the cute neighbor as a certain Violet Bickerstaff isn't a jewellery fan.)
- Cute & Cuddly. Not to every girl's taste true enough. But if it is, the options are there. Especially at Christmas time. Cute teddy bears everywhere you look. Some say 'I Love You.' Awww....
- Sexy Underwear. It's a risky one. Especially as this would entail your boyfriend knowing your bra size. But if he's feeling brave and wants to look like a creepy man buying women's lingerie, again, endless opportunities.
- Bath Goodies. If guys are really stuck, bath goodies! They come in pretty colours and they smell lovely. Plus there's the added bonus of special Christmas gift sets. Result!
- Perfume. Like the sexy underwear guys need specialised knowledge for this one. Namely, what's your favourite perfume? But if they know that. Simple. Simple. Simple.

Now, what do us girls buy for guys? I. Don't. Know. Hence my bah humbug moment. I don't know what to buy the White Horse and there just doesn't seem to be the same amount of guy gifts out there. Guys get it easy.

As for the White Horse, I remain stumped. I could get him a football (soccer) shirt but I'm not really a fan of him wearing those. But if it comes to it...

Moving right along

I know you've been wondering, what ever happened to that Jonny Damon chap?  Well, let me tell you friends.  I'm still seeing him, he's still awesome, and he is still soooooo cuuuute.  Things are moving right along. 

• After our 3rd date I was getting concerned by our PG rating.  Sure, kissing is fun, but what does a girl have to do to get some roaming hands action?! I had wasted time sexfoliating for nothing.  Cue clever comment, "Yeah, but I'm only trying to get into your pants", which thanks to my fluent sarcasm, he doesn't know if I'm being serious or not.  (Hint: I was being serious.  And it worked).  Let me tell you, if you think he looks cute in broad daylight, you should see how hot he looks when he's on top of me, with minimal lighting and ruffled hair.  Mmmmmmm.  
• He asked me to go to a wedding with him.  A wedding that's a month away!! Cue the silent panicking.  Ok, so yes, I'm a commitment phobe and no, I do not like to make plans with a boy in that far of advance.  But he needed to know if he should RSVP for one or two and he just kept looking at me with beautiful blue eyes while I silently freaked out but he was still looking at me with those damn eyes so I said I would.  I feel like this is a big deal.   Isn't it a big deal?  The wedding is an hour away, it has an open bar, and I have since found out that we're staying at the hotel that night (in our own room).  Isn't this a big deal??  I asked some friends, one of which responded, "So what? Do you want him to go with someone else?"  No.  I do not want that.  I figure that if we're not seeing each other in a month, it will be his problem not mine.  And if we are seeing each other in a month, then I get to get drunk for free and get in his pants.  Score.
• I met a couple of his friends the other night.  Luckily only two, as I tend to get very quiet when meeting a large group of people.  But they were really good friends of his, one of which is a girl (the long time girlfriend of his long time best friend/roommate).  I was nervous to meet the girl, because I am a girl and I know how girls can be.  They tend to be very picky about the girls their guy friends date.  They don't just judge her by her personality but also her clothes and hair and whatever else she can possibly judge.  All we went though.  They were both cool, funny, and Jonny Damon didn't act any differently in front of them.  The girl even friended me on Facebook almost immediately.  I guess that means she doesn't hate me.  Win.
• Last night I spent the night at his house.  This is the first time we've seen each other on a weekday, and I have to say, I liked it.  This morning he made me breakfast, and even though he dropped the toast on the floor, it was still an excellent start to a very long drive home for the holiday.  In those 7 hours I didn't think to brush my hair.  In the first 7 minutes I was home, my mother comments on the "rats nest" that is in my hair. That's what you get for getting in somebody's pants.  

Home for the Holidays

It's Thanksgiving week, one of my favorite weeks of the year. This year, I'll be going with the Cute Neighbor to his parents' house for Turkey Day. This is not so much a "we're so serious we want to spend every holiday" move so much as it's a "my parents live out of driving distance, but his don't and isn't that convenient" kind of move. I realize just how true this is when I think of the cute neighbor going to my parent's house for Christmas. Which he is absolutely not doing; that hasn't been discussed. In fact, I don't want the cute neighbor to come home with me for Christmas. Why? There are just some things that happen in the Bickerstaff household at the holidays that I'm not ready to share with him- or anyone- just yet. A few shining examples:

1. The pre-church, family Christmas photo. Every year- and I do mean every year- before we head off to church on Christmas Eve, my mother forces us all into a family photo. She poses us in front of the Christmas tree (the main Christmas tree, not to be confused with the numerous, smaller, themed Christmas trees throughout the house) for a family photo. She sets the camera up on a pile of books on the coffee table, hits the timer, then makes a mad dash for the tree while we sit uncomfortably staring at the blinking camera. Everyone except Grayer, who thinks she's auditioning for America's Next Top Model and is too busy posing and making love to the camera to be uncomfortable. I don't know why, but the thought of the cute neighbor having to take this photo makes me cringe.
2. Church on Christmas Eve. Every year, we must leave for Christmas Eve service an hour before the service actually begins. Why? Because my parents sing in the choir. This actually isn't so bad, as Grayer and I sit facing them and can make faces at them. Especially the year my mom was featured on the finger cymbals. That will never, ever stop being funny, but it is terribly dorky. It has, however, spawned my now-favorite Christmas tradition: the one in which Grayer and I play "Holiday Hangman" in the church bulletin to entertain ourselves before the service starts. And no, we don't use words like "mistletoe" or "Rudolph", we use phrases like "The glow of electric sex in the window" (A Christmas Story, obviously) and "The best way to spread Christmas cheer is to sing it loud for all to hear." But don't forget about after church! That's when we go to the house of my junior prom date to get our fill of awkwardness in, and where last year I had my very own "I carried a watermelon" moment when I stood in the entryway and announced that "I have a meat and cheese tray." Then, of course, we must drive around and look at Christmas lights.
3. Holiday skyping. These days, we don't just call extended family on Christmas day, we skype them. That means we turn the camera on so they can see us and all our shiny new presents. Somehow, even after two years of using this technology, my mother cannot get over the fact that this technology actually exists, therefore, she never stops "smiling at the camera." It's exactly how I picture Bridget's mom would act if presented with a web cam.
4. Holiday decorations on steroids. Like I alluded to in number 1, my mom goes completely bonkers when it comes to the holiday decorations. I've lost count of the number of Christmas trees she puts up. There's of course the main tree, but then we have an angel tree, a snowman tree, and a music tree. A new one seems to pop up every year. Then there's the lights. You could land planes in front of my parents' house. There are millions of them. (All white, of course!) The cute neighbor claims his mom is just as bad, but somehow, I just don't think that's possible.

Yes, these are all reasons not to bring the cute neighbor home with me for Christmas. But they are the same reasons I'll be home for Christmas. I don't want to miss out on all the fun.

How to Find a Husband: Part II

This is the second in a multi-part series on How to Find a Husband. This is for entertainment purposes only, and is a tongue-in-cheek criticism of smug marrieds as well as desperate attempts to become smug marrieds. The authors, Grayer and Violet, firmly believe that no one NEEDS a husband to make them complete, but if they want one, the best way to find one is to just be yourself.


Step 2:
Pets and Hobbies: The Keys to Entrapment

Get a Cat.

One cat shows that you are caring, nurturing and responsible. Two or more cats says you’re crazy and alone.

PETS

Picture this: It’s a lovely, spring afternoon, and you’re off for a run/walk/stroll through the park. Walking down the path towards you is a very attractive male specimen with the most adorable labradoodle on his leash. Your first instinct is to run up to him and gush about how cute his puppy is while hoping it will lead to him asking for your phone number, but be warned: this could be a trick. Beware of men walking dogs (particularly small ones) in the park. Chances are, they are doing so to get your attention. The dog may not even be his. He could have borrowed it from his neighbor/sister/girlfriend for the sole purpose of picking up pretty ladies in the park.

How to tell if he is using a dog (or is just flat out gay)

• The furry friend is wearing pink. Guys put girl dogs in dark purple or red. Girls put girl dogs in pink. So compliment the pink rhinestone collar and walk away, walk away fast.
• No control. According to the dog whisperer bad dogs are not born, they are made. Or, they are caused by being taken hostage in order to attract ladies. If the dog's trying to get away from it's "daddy" so should you.
• It has a better wardrobe than you. Unless it's in the single digits outside, men do not put their dogs in clothing. No vests, no sweater, no yellow raincoats with matching golashes.
• It weighs under 20 lbs (excluding puppies). Straight men don't dream about a little dog to carry around in their murse.
• The name game. A guy once introduced me to a dog name Dolce. Let me guess, his boyfriend/girlfriend's cat was named Gabbana...

Sound cynical? It is, but don’t worry. This canine trap works both ways. You could go to the same park every day for a month without anyone speaking to you, but once you add a dog to the equation, everyone, including the cute guy playing ultimate frisbee, will be saying hello.
Don’t have a dog? Borrow one. Ask your roommate, neighbor, friend, or weird guy across the street if they would mind if you took their pooch for a walk. Chances are, they’ll be happy to have someone else offer to walk the dog once in awhile, but if they think it’s a strange request, just tell them you’re thinking of getting one for yourself, but need to take one for a test spin.

What his pet says about him.

Finally, another way to judge a man, this time based on his preferences for animalistic companionship.

Dog This is a man’s man. (Assuming this pooch isn’t of the teacup variety). He seeks companionship yet likes to be in control. Let him play master.
Cat Although a slightly feminine choice, he probably has his reasons. A cat-owner is a nurturer yet appreciates self-sufficiency and an independent mind. He’ll treat you right if you keep your cling-on to a bare minimum.
Rodent A little on the quirky side, he can get past the associated stigmas and appreciate an animal, or a woman, for what it truly is. Mice are cute as long as they aren’t free to move about the cabin.
Bird Unless Polly repeats dirty words, we see no good reason a man would have a bird. You’re on your own with this one.
Snake Appreciates the exotic and enjoys appearing to be a bad ass. If the mice feedings are his favorite part, keep your distance.
Other reptiles It may have been cool at age 15 but not so much at 35. Make sure he’s not still living in his mom’s basement.
Giant insects Please refer to above, only add a creeper factor.
Fish A lot can be said by the condition of the tank. Let’s just say that things aren’t looking good if you can’t see the fish.


HOBBIES

Like pets, hobbies can create a good conversation point to at least get you started. Obtain hobbies, obtain a husband, it’s that simple.
You’re probably thinking “Woohoo! The perfect excuse to take that ballroom dancing/french pastry/decoupage class I’ve always wanted to!” To which we say, STOP RIGHT THERE! Do you really think you’re going to find a husband at a decoupage class? Not unless your dream man is also a member of Liza Minelli’s fan club and you’re willing to be celibate.
This is not about exploring your interests, there’s plenty of time to do that after you have a ring on your finger. Here are a few interests you can feign interest in if you aren’t interested in them already.

Church Ask anyone the question, “Where can I meet decent, single men?,” and the number one answer in the world is “church.” (This is a completely made up statistic, but it feels true.) It’s true. Go to church. At church, or any other place of worship, you will find husband material, provided they’re not already married. Grayer points out that she has never, not once, seen an attractive, single man in her age group at church. With that in mind, we refer back to Part 1. Receding hairline? Twenty years older divorcee with four children? A ring is a ring, ladies. Tick, tock, tick tock...
Not religious? Try all of them. Go to the synagogue on Saturday night, the Baptist church down the street Sunday morning. If anyone catches on to you, just tell them you’re seeking spiritual enlightenment and aren’t sure about where to start. Even better- then they’ll take the time to tell you about why theirs is the true path to redemption.
You are religious? What are you doing reading this? Shouldn’t you be married already?

Intramural sports Especially if you’re not the “sporty” type. This allows husband material to teach you, and in order to teach you, he needs to touch you.
Trust us on this one. We are a couple of “sporty” girls, and as a result we’ve never ever EVER received romantic attention on the field, since (and we don’t mean to brag) we already know how to play. All we get is an “atta girl” and a slap on the ass (and not the good kind).
If you’re looking for a meal ticket, you should definitely consider taking up golf and/or tennis. These are sports of the bourgeois. (If you really can’t be bothered to learn these sports, just throw on a pleated skirt and sip iced tea at the 19th hole. Claim an injury when he asks you to play with him, but offer to ride in the golf cart/sit on the sidelines and watch. Be sure to compare his swing/forehand to Tiger Woods/Pete Samprass.) The same could be said for horse racing, although not actually racing the horses. Just show up at the races; be sure to wear a very, very large hat, pearls, and white gloves.

Real sports Don't know the first thing about a real sport? No problem, you only need to know a couple of things to impress them, so stay tuned for Violet and Grayer's Everything a Lady Needs to Know About Sports.

Butt out

I've got a bone to pick with...well, just about everyone I've talked to in the last several weeks. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, is asking the million dollar question: What are you and the cute neighbor going to do when he moves? It's not always phrased like this, but that's the gist of it. And here's the answer: We don't know. And a follow-up question to you: Do we have to know right now?

The cute neighbor and I have been together for about 7 or 8 months, and while that is not an insignificant amount of time, I just don't feel like we have to have our future together completely mapped out. Then when I tell people I want to go to grad school, they assume I'm going to follow the cute neighbor to grad school. Um, no. Then when I say I want to go abroad to grad school, they say, "What does the cute neighbor think of this?" To which I'm always tempted to say "Who cares? The last time I checked, I didn't need his permission to do what it is that I need to do." But I refrain. I mean, I do care, because I care about him, obviously, but my point is I cannot revolve my future around anyone else but me at this point.

Let's say I follow him to wherever he goes. I enroll in grad school. We break up. I am left heartbroken and alone in a city where I don't know anyone and never really wanted to be in the first place. I will regret not doing my own thing for the rest of my life.

Let's say I follow him to wherever he goes. I enroll in grad school. We don't break up. Instead, we live happily ever after with 2 children, a dog, a cat, two goldfish, and a white picket fence. I will still regret not taking the opportunity to study at the school of my choice for the rest of my life.

If it was meant to be, one year apart won't ruin it. (However, open-ended long-distance will never, ever work if you want my advice.) If it wasn't, we'll both move on. Why does everyone need to put pressure on the relationship to last forever? Is it because I've now reached the ripe-old age of 28 that if it doesn't last forever it's a failure? I'm getting really sick of people putting pressure on our relationship. If we're not worried about it, then you shouldn't be either.

If I'm following anyone, it's Fenella, seeing as my current plan is to study in Europe. That, however, is not a problem. You see, boys will come and go. But Fen and I are forever.

Leave LiLo out of this!

Another great date with Jonny Damon this weekend including a brewery tour, him fixing my car (I asked him to take his shirt off but with it only being 50 degrees out, he declined) and watching horror movies on the couch.  Oh, and making out, a lot of making out.  Such great dates don't really make me want to meet more guys but I thought I would share this one with you.  Here are some snippets of OkCupid conversation from Mr. Grassroots.  His use of big words while sucking up to me really makes me want to date him *eyeroll.

Hey,

I was really captivated by your enthusiasm for biology. "Enthusiasm" in the sense that I mentioned I did research in Molecular biology. Most specifically, it's pretty noble that your accrued knowledge will be transferred to others through your fervor for teaching. Saying that I eventually wanted to teach with my "accrued knowledge" apparently indicated "fervor".

I'm really into politics, but no so much domestic affairs Yawn. I'm more into political theory, the roots of international crises, and security. Snore.  Sometimes it can be a lot to digest but it has really been enlightening, and has engendered in me a new perspective on the world. Wait what did he say about being engendered?

I had to break it to him straight out, I'm not into politics.  Especially not the theory of politics, because I don't really know what that means.  Oh, well I think I can get along with the fact you aren't particularly into politics. Good.  After all, it might prevent a few potential debates. True. Plus, it paves the way for something else to discuss, whatever that may be. Absolutely. Like Lindsay Lohan. Wait, What? I have never seen the show, Glee. I have heard so many things about it. Huh?


So this week, I'm pretty much filled with interviews, but you seem like such a nice genuine person, that I can't help but ask if you'd like to exchange phone numbers. ....What the fuck?

Now I know you are all thinking two things.  1.  What a condescending asshole! Just because one doesn't like politics doesn't mean one cannot hold an intelligent conversation, thus resorting to discussing if Lindsey Lohan is or is not in rehab/jail/Herbie Fully Loaded II.  and 2.  Please please please go on a date with this man!  I know, that's what I thought too.  So I responded, "Yeah! I love Glee!  My number is ..."  He texted me within two hours.

I had great plans of reading up on Star magazine to have several talking points over drinks with Mr. Grassroots, but I got cold feet.  Not because he seems like an ass, that would make a good story.  I got cold feet because I feel like he could easily be a serial killer.  Behind all those big words and political jargon, he seems really, really intense.  And somewhat crazy.  So I stopped responding to his texts.  Because in jail or not, not even Lindsey would date a serial killer.