A Bit of Reality… ‘Aint Never Hurt Nobody

Me:  “I think I’m going to sell my SUV and get a Prius…”

[as i look across the couch to see his facial expression]

———————-

[he doesn’t look up from his laptop; his facial expression doesn’t change]

Ginge:  “I think we should start seeing other people…”

I just smirk.  I would never sell my SUV to buy a Prius unless absolutely necessary.  Not that I have anything against Prius’ (or Priuses?) in general, but they’re really just not my cup of tea to drive.   I just knew the suggestion would ruffle Ginge’s feathers, as it did.   Yet, he knew I was joking with my random comment.

What this got me thinking about, however, was, what if Ginge were to say to me truthfully and genuinely, “I think we should start seeing other people?”

I mean this comment stemmed from the jokiest of jokes, but it brought to my attention that in the past 14 months, this thought has never crossed my mind.  Am I naive?  Am I egotistical?  What the HECK am I?  I thought back to the time when I just met Ginge.  We had only gone on two, maybe three dates, and T-Diddy [mom] was asking about him over the phone.  I remember telling her:

“It’s weird.  I don’t have to guess about him.  He always calls, he always texts, he always follows through with plans… I don’t even have to wonder with him…”

What the HECK game did he play?  Well apparently a freakin’ good one.  He played the game in which you are an actual genuine person who says and does what he says he’s going to do, and treats a woman like she’s actually a human being.  I mean, really?  It’s not that hard.  But sadly, it’s out of the ordinary, and this is something I commented to T-Diddy.   She, of course, gave me her wonderful motherly advice, that I SHOULDN’T have to wonder and I SHOULDN’T ever worry if he’s going to call me again.

Which brings me to my current point.  At over a year I have NEVER wondered or worried about if Ginge was going to call again, or if he didn’t like me anymore.  He’s always made me feel like I’ve had him and I’ll never lose him.  But this one comment really got me thinking more than I usually do [I guess I don’t think that much?]… Have I made him feel similarly?

I feel like I’ve been screwed over so many freakin’ times over the past several years, that it’s been all about me… “does he like me?”  “is he treating me correctly?”  “is he making ME his number ONE priority?”  “does he love my family?”  “can he live without me?”  …blah blah blah… me, me, ME….

What about HIM?  Let’s not get me wrong… I’ve come to really love this guy to death.  But that silly comment just put this thought in my head…. what if he were to want to leave ME? [I mean who really would want to leave me?? But still…]   HELLO!!!! Get off your high horse, you ASS!  This is a two-way street!!    How have I never even considered that this wonderful, kind, handsome, completely fantastic man could ever do better?  [Well, better…?  No, he couldn’t…]  But my point being… I knew those silly words that came out of his mouth, “I think we should start seeing other people,” were completely nonsense, and joking around, but they really hit home.

If I had heard those words out of his mouth in truth, I’m not sure what I would do.  I know I’d probably be in shock… because apparently over the past 14 months, I’ve felt the most secure I’ve ever felt in a relationship before.  I guess all I can say here is that maybe i learned a bit about myself.   I’ve learned that I hope I’m doing all I can to make my man feel just as secure as I do.  And if I’m not, I sure as hell need to do a better job.  Thanks, Ginge… for being you.

‘Til we meet again… hopefully less than 3 months from now….

xoxo

Gossip Girl

The Grass Is Always Greener…

… Always.

A friend posted an article on Facebook today called:  20 Ways Married Women Betray Our Single Girlfriends.  It was written by someone who was married, as sort of eye-opener, and an apology to her single girlfriends.  There are a few things I agree with, a few I don’t, a few that made me laugh, but as a whole, it made me think about how no matter what our relationship status, there are always things we envy of those on the other side of the fence.

Being in my early 30’s (ew, a;ldksfjadlfkja), the majority of my closest girlfriends are married… some have been for years.  Many have children.  I can honestly say that in my early 20’s, I thought I’d be one of the first.  I had been in the longest, most serious relationship of any of my friends, and I didn’t see any path other than the one that led us down the aisle into happily ever after.  I’d like to take my 23-year-old self and give her a swift kick in the ass.  I didn’t know what I was doing when I was 23.  I had no business living in a high-rise overlooking the Manhattan skyline with my college boyfriend, when our combined salaries barely paid the rent, and we basically pulled the couch cushions up about once a week to look for change for dinner.  No business.  But that’s what I chose to do.  And I thought it made me happy.  And I thought I was a grown-up and knew all there was to know.

That relationship ran its course.  The boyfriend moved to California for work, and my job wouldn’t allow me to go with him.  We tried to make it work for a while, but when push came to shove, I guess it just wasn’t right.  That one took me a long time to get over.  A lot of ups and downs, and “did we do the right thing?” and visits, and relapses, until one of us entered into a relationship with someone else, and things were finally really over.  It wasn’t until my next serious relationship that I realized how big of a dumbass I would have been to get married in my early 20’s.  I had no idea who I was. I had no idea what a real, grown-up relationship looked like.  I didn’t know that passion wasn’t enough to have a healthy relationship.   That following one taught me a lot.  It taught me I could truly trust a person.  It showed me that a higher level connection was possible, and it taught me that the person I want to be with is one I can sit on a front porch with until I’m 90 and not run out of things to talk about.  It also taught me that two people’s priorities and goals need to align in order for a relationship to work.  Which, in this case, they did not.

What has taught me the most, though, is the past two years.  The ones I spent alone.  I spent my entire 20’s in serious relationships, thinking every step of the way that marriage was the goal, and what was going to come next.  I failed to look around, and see that there’s more going on outside of my little box than creating the perfect relationship, and wondering what the stupid ring would look like on my stupid fat finger.  Like really?  Who CARES?!  Come to think of it, I’d like to give my entire 20’s-self a swift kick in the ass…  For not really getting to know who I was alone.  For caring about crap that really didn’t matter at all… And for not really opening my eyes and turning from side to side.

The past two years have been liberating.  Lonely at times?  Yeah, of course.  Missing having a significant other to love sometimes?  Yeah.  But very much-needed.  I don’t think as women, we always put enough stock in ourselves as individuals.  It’s all about the chase for the perfect relationship, settling down with a house and kids, but what about our relationships with ourselves?  Do we know ourselves without “another half?”  Maybe some do.  Maybe some were way farther along than I was in my early 20’s.  But I sure as hell had no clue what I was doing, and I probably still have a lot to learn.

The article above hammers the point home.  As much as some of us feel we should be looking for marriage and should be starting to have children, maybe we should look around and see what we do have.  Maybe we should realize that even if the husband and kids are the end goal, there ARE things about single life we will surely miss.  As dreadful and awkward as many first dates are, as much as we’d like someone to cuddle up and watch a movie with sometimes, just take a moment and really think… think about when we’re married with little kids running around… how much we’re going to remember those nights at the bar with our other single girlfriends bitching about whatever meathead there was to bitch about at the time.  And laughing about the awful dates and the weird things we accidentally said.  And as much as I know I want the family life eventually… at some point, I do realize, I may mutter the words, “I miss Tinder.”

Peace out, muffins.

xoxo

Gossip Girl

The Architect … A Bit of Nostalgia

The Architect is old news.  So old, in fact, that none of his stories can be found on this blog.  You’d have to refer back to my original blog posts, which are now, unfortunately, gone forever.  Unlike my old blog, The Architect is not gone forever.  When I refer to him ever being “in the picture,”  he never really was… in a dating sense.  He was just one of those lingering guys from my Hoboken days that continued to keep my attention… most likely because he was not giving me enough attention.

Guys… don’t take lessons from this.  It’s not a winning move.  Women nearing (and God-forbid OVER) the age of thirty, are not looking for a chase or a game.  They’re looking for a real man who has real morals and values and actually wants to pursue a real, mature relationship.  “The chase”  is no longer appealing to most of us once we have neared our thirties.  But one thing The Architect had going for him, is that he kinda stepped it up, in a sense, right before I moved across the country.

The question here is obvious:  Did I finally begin having these feelings for him because I actually had feelings for him, or was it because I knew I was leaving and I couldn’t have him even if I really wanted him?  I’m not completely sure what the answer is.  Before I left, we started spending a lot more time together… cramming it in.  Like “holy crap I may never see you again; let’s hang out as much as possible.”  Before that last month, we would see each other here and there… whatever.  But once it was almost go-time, it seemed to be a little more…. “one last time out… one last, ‘can you fix my sink?’,  and one last ‘goodbye’ after my car was packed and we were standing outside my apartment hugging while my sister was screaming out the window that I needed to come back in and lock up…”  Did that mean anything?  No, probably not.

But then I got to California.  And being the one that left, I should have been the one who didn’t care anymore.  I should have been the one to be excited to experience new things and meet new people, and forget the ones that never really amounted to anything… which… don’t get me wrong… I was.  I was SO excited.  And I met amazing people, ones who have even exceeded my expectations as friends, and I’ve been having the time of my life.  The problem is, I continued to think about The Architect.   And the other problem is, The Architect got a girlfriend.  Does he like her that much?  I don’t know.  Yeah, I guess so.   He says he does.  I’m not sure how much I believe him.  I believe they have a ton in common… because facts are facts… they do have a ton in common.  They went to the same schools, they have the same profession, and the same hobbies… but do I get the sense that she’s the end-all-be-all?  No.  But could he be hiding that fact from me for my sake?  Because he probably knows I still think about him?  Obviously.  I’m not stupid.

The Architect and I don’t have much in common.  He’s really logical, I’m not.  He’s good at math, I’m not.  He’s reserved, I’m not.  He over-thinks things; I under-think them.   He wouldn’t buy a mattress off the side of the road… I would.  But would I refrain from buying a mattress off the side of the road if he asked me to?  Yeah, probably.  …Maybe.

Point of this post is… well… I don’t really have one.  Just one of those honest moments when my laptop is within reach and I have no one around to entertain me… so I type…when I probably shouldn’t type… But I do… So you, my friends, get my thoughts for the hour.

Love you, muffins.  ❤

xoxo Gossip Girl

Double Dates (Meaning TWO…)

So I got home from work yesterday and plopped my butt on the couch.  I didn’t really feel like going on this date, but also didn’t feel rude enough to cancel at the last-minute.  V walks in and sits down with me.  We’re both swiping away at Tinder, and I say,

“I wonder if we have any of the same matches?”

So we both pull up all of our matches and we’re trying to compare, when I decided this game would be way more fun with a bottle of wine.  So it turned into:

“Do you have a Chris?”

“Go Fish.  Drink.”

“Do you have an Evan?”

“Go Fish.  Drink.”

“Do you have a Tom?”

“Yes!”

“Does he have a glass of whiskey in his hand??”

“Yes!!”

“Let me see!”

“Nope, two different Toms with glasses of whiskey in their hands.  Go fish.”

Brie walks in shortly after and sees V with a glass of wine, and asks, “Are we still going for a walk?”

V says, “Well I don’t really WANT to…”

So the game continues until its time for me to leave.

I decide to walk because I still haven’t caught onto the fact that nobody in this town walks places or takes public transportation.  When I told my roommate T, I was taking the bus downtown the other night she goes, “What???”  followed by, “You’re so funny.”  It was $2.25!!!  And hassle free!  I loved it!  Anyway… off topic.

I called Emitch on my walk and she asks, “How far is the place?”

“Eh, like a mile and a half?”

“WHAT??!  Why are you walking there?  You’re going to be a disgusting sweaty mess by the time you get there.”

“No, it’s not hot here when the sun goes down.  I’m actually thinking about putting my jacket on.”

“Ok.”

Flash forward, I was LATE (obvi) so I broke into a speed walk towards the end and I WAS a sweaty mess by the time I arrived.  The dude was what I expected, looks-wise.  He was kinda little, but good-looking.  But, like too put-together, good-looking.  I don’t think my brother reads these posts, but if he did he’d come and slap me, because this guy was a “Lax-Bro” and my brother gave me a strict “no dating lacrosse players” rule.  It’s basically his only rule.  And this guy had a photo of himself PLAYING lacrosse as one of his OkCupid profile pics, so I felt a little guilty agreeing to go out with him.  Which, let’s address here.  He played lacrosse in COLLEGE… and he’s 33, so I’m not the best at math, but that was ummm…. a really long time ago.  And it came up in conversation at least three times.  Like we actually had a side conversation ABOUT lacrosse, which isn’t even a sport I’ve ever cared about.

But in any case, he was nice, he had a job, he had his shit together, and he was a gentleman.  I wasn’t feeling it though.  And I agreed to a second drink, but didn’t really want it.  And I was texting on the side in the bathroom (I know, bitchy move), but some other guy who knew I was on a date wanted to meet up afterwards, and my sister said she’d pick me up after school and take me somewhere else, so these bathroom breaks were needed for coordination purposes.  Well, and because I had to pee.  Obvi.

So we’re sitting, chatting, and I realized I didn’t even know his last name (I actually kinda forgot his first name too because I never saved it in my phone).  So I pulled a slick move and scrolled to his first text to see what his name was.  It was what I would have guessed, so I felt a LITTLE better about myself.  Then I asked for his last name.  He told me.  Then he says, “It’s Spanish… well Mexican.”

“HAHAHAHHA you’re Mexican?!  I have to tell my sister!”

Which gives me another excuse to text.  She had just asked me that day why all the guys she meets are Mexican, and I never meet any.  So I had to notify her immediately.

Lax-Bro then says, “Is this strictly for your phone, or are you going to google me when you get home?”

“I’m totally going to google you.”

“Well, I guess I should warn you about something then…”

Ohhh geez… here we go….

“A couple of years ago, another guy who came from Mexico has the same exact first and last name… He moved up to Oregon…. and I guess he shot a few people…. soooo… when you google my name there’s a lot of news articles about that…”

“OMG!  You’re a murderer?!?!”

“Not me… just a guy with the same name…”

That’s it.  I was convinced.  He’s a murderer.  It’s not a common name.  At all.  And it was a good way out of this date.  I don’t date murderers.

I told him my sister was going to pick me up on her way back from school, which in my opinion, took way too long.  And she wanted to see him.  So she parked the car and came in.  She met him for about 2 minutes, then I told him it was time for us to go. So we said our goodbyes and pretended to go home, but went to a bar down the street to meet the other guy.

Carissa said, “ew” and “absolutely not” about the Lax-Bro.  Second guy walks in, says hello and then goes to the bar to get a drink and she says, “much better than the last one.”

So he comes up to the table and asks, “So how was your first date of the night?”

“It was ok.  He was a nice guy.  Carissa didn’t like him.”

“What was wrong with him?”

Carissa makes a motion near her eyeballs and said, “He had really creepy eyes.”

[Murderer].

Second date shrugs, looks at Carissa and says, “So do you go on all of her dates?”

“Pretty much…”

The guy was a Jew.  I personally have nothing against dating Jews, but from past experience (not really my own experience), I know that their mothers never like them dating or marrying non-Jews, so I feel like it’s kinda a waste of time.  I obviously told him this.  He said his mother is like the one from “Mean Girls…” I wasn’t sure how to take that.  I think I’d be frightened of her.

The three of us are sitting at a table, and some guy I’ve never seen before comes up and says, “Are you Court?”

I’m like… “Ummm.. yeah?”

He says, “Were you at a Yelp event downtown on Tuesday night, wearing a name-tag and sitting at the bar with one of your girlfriends?”

“Ummmm yeahhh….”

“I was the server for the tables!  I went like THIS all night!”  (he puts his arm straight up in the air, imitating a server with a tray on his hand).

Omg…. how is he recognizing me right now?  And you should have seen the Jew’s face, he was so confused by this encounter.

Then the server says, “You wrote us up an awesome review!”

“You read my review????”

“Yeah, it was awesome.  And I’m so glad you called out that obnoxious woman who was giving the bartender a hard time!  She was the WORST!”

“You saw that happen too?????”

“Yeah, I was standing right next to you.”

I am so oblivious.

The Jew was very confused.  Even after I tried to explain.  But he let it go.  He asked if Lax-Bro had sent me a follow-up text, and I told him no.  He left shortly after because he had to let his dog out, and also because he was probably freaked out.  He sent me a text a few minutes after, saying the only reason he was texting was because he felt bad that the other guy didn’t text me.  Gee, thanks.

He then admitted we are probably the worst match ever, but followed it up by saying we should get together again, possibly Sunday to discuss it further.  Dudes are so confusing.

Carissa’s Mexican lover, Tonto came out and met us, WITHOUT any friends… always solo… Never any love for me.  Worst wingman ever.  We counted him as our third date for the night anyway, then he drove us home.

Just another Thursday night.

And since it’s finally Friday and I LOL’ed  (thanks Lisa)…. I will leave you with this:

20130823-092730.jpg

xoxo

Gossip Girl

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