The Lost Plum…

I am not always prepared in life. I’ll admit that. I’m often the one who will show up at the work event and forgot to bring business cards, or forget to pick up the dress I want to wear to an event from the drycleaners. But in important issues I over think everything. I’ve been known to use the phrase, “that’s why we have plan D” which alludes to the fact that I have not only an A and a D but one for every letter in between.

SIDEBAR: I will always have different plans, but I never have a backup plan.

I don’t only do this in work situations, but in what could be called serious life situations. I work out every option I have and makes list of what I am willing to give and take.

FACT: I usually give more then I take.

The place I do this most is in relationships: In the opposite sex.

A friend and I were chatting the other night about how “types” become obsolete at some point, and it becomes about our “give and take” list.  You know those things you are willing to let go. As my friend put it, “He’s probably not going to be tall, blond, and gorgeous.” “But he still might be perfect,” I said in response.

We let things go for things we’ve realized matter to us, or things we’ve found attractive (necessary) in our life.

Mamma Plum once told me we should only have basic standards when looking for a mate, “not violent, no criminal record, respectful of your beliefs, and gainfully employed.” After that she said it’s all give and take.

He might not be tall, but he comes from a good family, or he might be tall, but have bad teeth. Ok that’s a lie; if he has bad teeth I’m having nothing to do with that! (It’s on my standards list…I’m not joking)

So sometimes you have to give and take, and even when most prepaid and you meet the man of your dreams you realize you forgot your business cards at home.

I’ve been surrounded by boxes and piles of junk lately, more so piles then boxes. I am doing a major clean and purge of my life “things” (I’m moving)

SIDEBAR: I love my stuff, and my junk but it’s just “junk” and it has had a great life with me, and will make someone else very happy, and stylish “to-boot”

As I’ve been in awe of my collection of things I have noticed something very different than in any other move I have ever made.  I don’t have any relationship outcasts. No boy leftovers, no guy junk, or man tokens.

Last time I went “home home” my closet was still filled with boy leftovers: teddybears, pictures, and all sorts of crap. And it seems like every time I have moved I have had lots of guy-junk to purge from my life, and this time: nothing.

Ok, that is a lie. I have three things.

I have a pile of CD’s from “bandboy”s band. Some are even unopened and by some I pretty much mean all of them.  I count this as one thing, although it’s more like 8 things. I don’t know why I have them, why I even keep them, and why on earth I’ve moved them to different apartments (even a different country).  Although, when he mailed me the latest CD I had a nice little pile to add it to.

And I have two shirts.

Now I know what you are thinking, that I must be one of those girls who takes things from guys. You know the ones who take sweatshirts and t-shirts: the girl who collects t-shirts from guys to sleep in.

FACT:  I’d rather not sleep in a t-shirt.

But thing is I don’t really do that. Why would I want someone’s dirty clothes when I have my own perfectly clean (and even dirty) clothes? But I sat the other night staring at two: a hoddie and a sweater.  Such ‘girl’ things to take from guys I know, right.

But the fact is, I didn’t really take them. I kept them.  I didn’t let them go when everything else went.  Last time I really sat down and cleaned out my life’s ‘junk’ I did it for two. It was mine, and it was his, and I cleaned out and flushed so much away.

Just like my giveaway pile now, I got ride of so much that was drenched in memories.

Now it sounds strange but I can recall memories with everything I have, unless I really have no clue where it came from. I know where “we” have been together: my stuff and me.

I remember the time I got my heel stuck in a sidewalk grate and walked almost a block without a shoe(the pretty black with purple top Prada ones). Or the green and pink Jacob solder bag I trekked allover France. Everything has a memory, a place, and a story.

And then I have these two shirts. I have no idea why I kept these shirts. It is a plain grey cotton sweater that even though I have grown in size I still swim in it, and a black (but really looks navy) hoodie with nothing on it, warnout cuffs and missing drawstring.

I have no memories attached to these items. I have no idea where they were purchased, or even when they were worn. Yet, these were the two things I decided would help me remember someone: the person who owned them.

Sometimes it isn’t “things” that we remember.  We remember an experience, a feeling, and even a sensation.

I remember France, and that trip, and the friends I was with, how much I laughed, and all the things we did. The bag didn’t give me that. I remember the great night out I had with an amazing friend when I happen to lose my shoe.

It’s never been about the shoes, the bags, the coats, and even the glasses.

And then…

I remember a boy that I loved, not the clothes that he owned.

I haven’t been posting.  I’ve been a bad bad girl (as the title states) and people have been making me very aware of this.

I don’t have excuses only reasons.  These reasons would include:  my moving from one apartment to another, work, lack of internet, moving, puppy sitting, moving, stress, dealing with junk, people being just dumb, and did I mention I’ve been moving.

The other day I had tea and desert with my great friend “Tree”. I think I talked more then he’s ever heard me talk in one sitting. When we touched on the blog he mention something I’ve been hearing a lot from people.

He asked about my Sunday Pulls.  Where do they come from? Are they all used on me? What is PULL mean? And so on.

I get these questions all the time. So since I’ve been a bad girl and the last thing I posted was a Sunday PULL I thought this would be a great opportunity to discuss them.

YES! All of these bad pick up lines (PICK-UP-LINE-LOVE akaPULL) have been used directly on me.  I write them down, and have been writing them down for a very long time. I have about 5 full journals/notebooks of bad pickup lines and bad pickup situations.

One of my friends “J” always says, “If there is a bad pickup line in the joint it’s going to be directed at this one”, as he points at me.

SIDEBAR: This fact may or may not be true.

I started writing them down after this incident my first year of university, and haven’t stopped since.

FACT:  As I’ve gotten older, and fatter (I can say that!) I experience fewer bad pickup lines….one day they will stop.

So sometimes I don’t think. I’ll say it!  Sometimes my focus is drawn away from things. Now I get what I wanted to get done, but if it’s not on my lists, or a major importance then it can slip.

And feel bad this morning.  You see I let you all slip.  I mentioned last week that I had the next few weeks all preposted and wrote so that I could focus on work, and my ever-daunting apartment move.

FACT: I hate packing. I hate unpacking. I hate moving.

You see I did prewrite posts for everyday. I was very proud of this fact, and excited that I wouldn’t have to think about it.  Well this morning as I sit in the car waiting. (stupid offside/alternate side parking!)

I was thinking to myself I hadn’t received many comments, or an email in regards to the last few days posts.

This seemed odd. I might not get tons of comments, but I sure do always get emails.

SIDEBAR: I do read and enjoy all your emails. I’ve been really slow at getting back to all of them lately, but your reply is coming just you wait!

So, I go over to the blog, and low and behold I have nothing posted since Sunday. What?! But I wrote posts for the next two weeks, why aren’t they posting?  So I look into it, and there are no scheduled posts to go out that have been missed. In fact there is nothing.

SIDEBAR: There are SUNDAY PULLS, because those I have a backlog of.

Where are all my posts!!??  I was about 2 minutes from crying, and then I realized something.  Yup! I wrote them all in a word document, but never moved them to the blog.  I must have been so proud of myself for doing two weeks worth of blogs in one night that I rewarded myself with sleep and then forgot that I hadn’t complete what I set out to do.

And now I’m thinking how I do this in relationships.  I tend to think I’ve said what I am thinking.  I sometimes believe that guys should be able to read my mind, and therefore I don’t need to tell them how I feel. And this is how I get hurt. It’s like the last week when I talked about those little heartbreaks. The small ones that you try not to notice. Mostly these come about because I never say anything. I don’t stand up and say “HEY MR. YOU! I’VE FALLEN FOR YOU, AND I DON’T WANT TO GET UP” Instead, I assume they know this, I make jokes, brush off the important ‘feelings’ thing and end up not saying anything.

Just like the last few days…I’ve said nothing.  To the three of you that missed me, I’m sorry.

I was on the train the other day coming from brunch and sitting across from me were two guys with shopping bags. They had obviously taken full advantage of the post holiday sales.

FACT: I have not done ANY post holiday shopping. I hate shopping with the masses.

One had a big pink bag in which he started to pull things out of and they started their conversation.

Now this wasn’t any pink bag, this was a Victoria Secret bag. I’m not thinking anything of it. Maybe the teddy he’s holding up is for his lady, or mom, or man, or even himself, no judgment. Then he pulls out a bottle of lotion. And they smell it, then another, and another. I’m intrigued. I shut off my iPod and listen to them talking.

“I’m just not attracted to her body, but other then that she’s perfect”

“Well I’d give her the brown one, it smells sexy.”

” Yeah in the dark it’ll smell sexy”

HOLD THE PHONE!

Let me break it down for you because after that little exchange I was to busy trying to keep my jar off my lap that I don’t remember the exact dialogue.

This guy, ‘Victory Secret bag guy’ had purchased a whole bag of stuff in hopes that his girlfriend would become more “sexy” more “physically attractive”.

Ok, I can admit that some times you fall for people that physically you never thought you would. At least I like to still hope guys do (otherwise how else am I going to land one)

And sometimes people try to change their partner’s looks. This mostly happens to guys. Their ladies make them get haircuts, buy them clothes, and what have you. (oh you poor boys)

But body lotion? If she’s physically not attractive that’s one thing, but smelly? That is a deal breaker I’m sorry. I’m not talking I haven’t showered went to the gym smelly, I’ll give everyone that. But needing to smell better in the “bedroom” that’s just Bunk!

Poor guy with the smelly girlfriend I feel bad for your friend who had to help you smell lotions on the train. He was cute but I’d never date a guy who’s friend will lather his lady in lotion just so he can have sex with her scent cause he’s not attracted to the body.