The Lost Plum…

I’ve been told this before many times:  He’s just scared at how fast and much he’s fallen for you. (or something along those lines) He’s scared it’s getting to serious.

I think I might hold the record for times a guy who seems all interested in me out of the blue say: “I’m not looking for a serious relationship, ok?!”

In fact if I don’t hear that on the third date, I start to think my hearing is going.

My reply is always the same: “OK. No one said anything about a serious relationship here.”

And I truly mean that!

I’ve been thinking about this lately. What is it about me? About my personality that makes me come off as this relationship hungry girl.  When I’m actually farthest from that. Am I too nice? Too interested, to giving? What is it?! I seriously want to know!

Do I like the idea of being in a relationship? Sure, who doesn’t? They are comfortable, wonderful, and safe, but then again full of so many issues.

A nice steady casual relationship I’ll take any day. A call me your girlfriend, move in together and let’s have babies relationship…..well frankly they scare me.

So the question is, is it me?

Do I scream, “date me, love me, marry me”, or is it just a precaution that all men take.

Are they scared of ‘us’ the scary relationship hungry females? ‘Us’ with our bridesmaids picked out since we were 10 yearsold, our eggs in the freezer, and wedding dresses we got on sale in the closet.  Do all guys see us (women) as THOSE types?

Dear lord do I come off as that type?!

Sure the idea of a woman with her ticking time bomb ovaries and dreams of the perfect wedding dress might be scary. Sure. I can see that. I meet a boy once who knew exactly how and what time of the year he wanted to get married. Scared the living poo out of me!

The word “fast” and “plans” and “future” are scary in any context at any age!

But little old me, scaring guys away. Making them think I’m all ready to settle down, writing out my name with his last name, and picking out baby names….ME? Really?!

This little plum is scared and jaded on her own. I don’t need your insecurities of whether or not I’m a spring or fall wedding person, or am feeling out your family cancer and disease history.

I’m ok with a non serious relationship, not cause calling me your girlfriend scares me, or moving in scares me, or weddings scare me, or monogamy scares me, or even babies scare me. Ok having a baby fucking scares the bejeezus of me! The are big and my hoo-ha isn’t that big.

I’ve had some wonderful beautiful real serious relationships. And the thought of repeating their faults is what scares me. Because my list of what scares me in “him” and in our maybe “serious relationship” is far more meaty then his fear of a seeing me in a wedding dress, or god forbid us putting a label each other.  It’s perfectly normal for guys to go on and on about how they don’t want anything serious, they aren’t ready for something serious. But, I as a female say that and something is either wrong with me, I’m a slut, or I’m lying.  But like I said my fears about making something serious stand on their own. (but then again maybe guys have their own list too, maybe)

I fear:

- him having sex with one of my best friends behind my back (again)

- him dumping me after 4 years cause he’s getting married in 6 months (again)

- him slapping me across the face and throwing me against walls (again)

- being cheated on (again, and again, and again)

- being told I’ll never be good enough for him (again)

- falling in love and having him die on me (again)

I was cleaning out my room and started to tackle a box, actually I should say a big bag of bags. Now not just any bags, this was a big bag of swag bags.

Swag bag castoffs that I just didn’t really get rid of. Like the not so exciting junk that you get in those bags…all the exciting junk I already had used and taken out.

This big bag of junk included: a bouncy –ball, a mini vibrator, vitamin water, three different hand lotions, penis shaped candies, lots of business cards and coupons, a bag of pretzels, shampoo, and so on and so on.

And a small pack of playing cards. Now they weren’t playing cards in the poker kind of way. They were for a different kind of game.

This was a pack of First date dating questions. A small deck that you can take with you, they were sized “to go”.

Insert a sigh. A large * sigh * for three reasons/thoughts that crossed my mind:

1) Why didn’t I think of that so I could be making money?

2) That a ridiculous thought LP cause that person who thought of it isn’t making money, hence why they are free.

(And)

3) Are they serious?!

This mini pack of first date questions is so ridiculous in concept I had to open the package.  (And I wish I hadn’t)

A small sample:

- Where would your dream home be located and what would it look like?

- What is your favorite thing to do on a date?

- How do u act when your angry?

- Would u like to live somewhere else?

- Is your glass half full or half empty?

- What was your worst breakup?

- What is your favorite sent?

Now I’ll try to control myself from throwing up in my mouth for a second here……

(yeah that didn’t work)

So, yes, these are all your basic and sometimes over the top get to know you questions. Sure you get a picture of someone here, but are these questions really necessary on a first date.

NO.

On a first date I want to see if we jive, if we make each other laugh, and if conversation flows.

Here is a hint: If you have to pull out pre written questions to ask your date, conversation does NOT flow and you should walk away now (and vise versa)

Would you have cards to help you lead the conversation with friends? No. Therefore, you shouldn’t have them on a date. If you can’t treat your date like you would your friends (or even better then you treat your friends) then you shouldn’t be dating.

And if you happen to need pre approved first date questions, for goodness sake memorize a few of the less sickening ones and leave the playing cards at home.

I had a great night out the other day. A much needed fun night out with one of my best friends “mr.popular”.

We had a great dinner, great drinks, and as always a great conversation, which as per usual managed to cover “relationships”.

FACT: Relationships where not discussed before the awesomeness that is the Team Canada line up this year. (for Olympic hockey if you didn’t know)

So…..there has been (or was) a guy that popped into the picture (my picture) alittle while ago. Who I haven’t seen too often, and we aren’t officially anything, but he’s there. I may or may not have wrote about him, but that doesn’t matter.

Point is “mr.popular” and I are talking, discussing and breaking the situation down. Well actually, I’m breaking it down (me talk talk talking) and then:

“Stop!”

“What?”  I of course look around me thinking he has spotted a hot girl and therefore cannot process my talking and his picturing her naked at the same time. (Believe me this point is not exaggerated!!!)

“He has a name”

“Yeah,  ’mr. has a name’.”

“No, I know. The point is he has a name! (We exchange this strange smile thing back a forth that we do) I’ve known you for a real long time and I have never heard you refer to a guy by his name”

“I know!” I shake and lower my head in shame.

And there it was, alittle truth about me. Much like this blog I give guys ‘nicknames’. From the guy I spent 2minutes talking to at the bar, to the guy I dated for 7months. There was ‘newyearsboy’, ‘filmboy’, ‘tallboy’, ‘marriedguy’,'bartenderdude’….you name it I’ve come up with a name.

And yet, there it was a name: ‘mr. has a name’.

I’ve talked about this once before. And yet, I find myself in the same place, under different pretenses, with different feelings. However, as always I’m confused by life and relationships in general.

So I gave a guy a name…..now what?!

FACT: ‘mr.popular’ and I chatted about alot of things, and thus be prepared for a flood of posts involving him and our past adventures!

I meet a nice guy at a new years party last year (well technically it was this year but whatever…). We exchanged numbers and he called me, in fact we had about 5 really wonderful phone conversations before we went on a date, and we dated for about 2-months or so after that. Actually we dated till he became a complete douchebag but that’s another story.

This guy I trekked to see! I would make two subway transfers (sometimes three times depending) and would find myself at the end of the 1-train in the Bronx’s. (Anyone who knows me was always so perplexed by this, “YOU dating a guy way up in the Bronx’s!”)

One night we were out at dinner and he brought up a small fact or rather a request he and his roommates had.

You see he and his roommates had noticed that since I had been coming around and spending time at their place one thing was different. One thing just wasn’t the same as it used to be. You see something was missing. Their toilet paper in the bathroom was vanishing quicker then it used to.

FACT: You heard me right! Their toilet paper, or their bum wipe, as my dad so adequately puts it.

They had theorized (which was reached no doubt while eating pringles and getting high) that because girls use more toilet paper ( “you know every time you pee”) that I was costing them money. Precious toilet paper money! They were spending more money on toilet paper (which I should add was the cheapest stuff ever and in fact I believe sometimes was stolen from their offices)

He asked if I would consider contributing towards their ‘household item fund’, or buying a few rolls to contribute. To which I promptly said I would bring my own and laughed in his face.

Now, I should have just told him he and his friends were dicks, but I liked his friends (and sorta liked him) and I knew two of his roommates struggled with money. You’d never guess that based on their smoking habits, but I figured I’d carry tissues in my bag and make a point.

About 2 weeks later we were watching a movie in their living room and one of his roommates came in. He made a comment about how I never cooked dinner for them anymore, or brought baking, or swag from work and how they all missed it.

SIDEBAR: we’d cook at his place alot and I’d always make extra for the roommates. I love to bake but hate to eat it, so his roommates enjoyed pie and cookies a lot. I also got lots of guy centric swag from my old job and would dump it on them.

I replied in a calm manner, not missing a beat and not taking my eyes off the TV.

“Well my household item fund expenses increased unexpectedly this month. But you are welcome to contribute to my feeding and providing for the boys I don’t have sex with fund”

Needless to say neither of them found it funny. And about 2 weeks later the inner douchebag of this guy started to show culminating in him standing me up at a concert I had to use connections to get tickets too, and then telling me he didn’t make it cause he was having sex with his fuck buddy and lost track of time.

FACT:  My mothers face when my dad says “bum wipe” is a sight to be seen, she has also been known to throw things at him when he says this. These things have been known to be expensive breakables.

I write about people here. In fact I write about people I might not know deep down (aka boys I meet) and most of these people aren’t people you know either. So who really cares right? Right!

I got a letter yesterday. A letter that has made me rethink a few things.

I used to have a blog with a friend about our job (we did the same thing but for different people) and it was completely anonymous. Problem being it started to get some attention, and we had to shut it down. Legally we may or may not have been telling stories we shouldn’t have…. even if we changed names and such.

So I get this letter from a law office representing a client and publisher.  I need to waive over my likeness for a book. Wait what?! Are you serious?

It made me think about this blog. (well it made me think of alot of things, but the blog is one) Is one day down the line one of my PULL buddies going to sue me because I shared his “genius” pickup line with the world to steal? Is that guy, or the person I thought was a friend going to one day get angry and mean. Or what is someone steals my likeness (another legal issue) I mean I am pretty hilarious; maybe someone wants to steal what I have written? (With the spelling and grammar cleaned up of course!)

I also have been thinking about people who touch my life, how everyone has shaped me in a different way. Some have made me scared, others have given me the ability to trust, some have taught me skills, and some have made me grow older. So in the huge melting pot of people who have ‘touched’ me there are those that really stand out. One of these being “mystalker”.

FACT: A full fledge real stalker! We are talking restraining order, used to break in and watch me sleep, tried to kill himself, documented my day to day with telephoto lenses, tried to kill an ex boyfriend capital S stalker!  I use the term stalker seriously and don’t throw it around like almost every girl out there.

And now he has written a book! A book that I am featured in and the character draws so much to my “likeness” that I need to sign over a waver.

We all know he’s crazy, so I’ll say this: His publisher is fucking crazy if he thinks I am signing this shit, and even crazier if he thinks this isn’t going to be a legal issue!

SIDEBAR: This is the last thing I need right now! Merry Christmas to me.