The Lost Plum…

I got an email late last night from one of my readers, or maybe a passer by, who knows. And I thought I needed to address this email in the open, to everyone. Not for any specific reason, just cause I feel like it. My answer is something I tell people often when I discuss this blog and my dating/sex/relationship status and practices. However, I realized that I don’t know most of you so I should let you know as well.

FACT: Just because you email me doesn’t mean I will respond to it out in the open. Although, it maybe time for one of these posts again.

Her email included the following:

“You don’t date and write about it like other sex and dating blog people. Are you dating someone and just not talking about it? Are you just not interested in dating? What is up with you in terms of your dating life? You just write so different then the other women dating bloggers I read in the city…”

Well….. first and foremost I want to say:

Thank you!

I read most of the other “dating” blogs here in the city, and even outside of the city. I even socialize with a few other writers. I like most everyone out there but I am happy that you find me different, so thank you. I never went in to blogging (this blog or any other) wanting to emulate anyone, or be like someone else.

SIDEBAR: I’ll be honest there are a very small handful of bloggers I don’t like. I don’t like what they write, how they write, how they interact with others, what their blog design looks like, and some I don’t like as people (and like almost everyone!). And frankly I’m sure lots don’t like me (And I could care less)!

I am glad you find me different even if it’s hinted as not a good thing.

I never really categories myself as a “dating/relationship/sex” blogger, although I guess that is where I fit.

I like to tell people “I write about me. I just happen to meets lots of boys….so I guess I write about boys”

I am far from an expert at dating or relationships. And would never claim to be. I have no advanced degrees in psychology or anything in the like. (although, I do have a very large education resume) Many may claim age and experience give them their “cred” but I simple disagree. So I don’t give advice and should probably add a “don’t try this at home” section to my legal statement at the bottom of this page.

Here is the main thing and my main point: I don’t date to write.

Frankly some people out there do. I find it ridiculous. What’s the fun in that?! It takes something fun and interesting: dating and love and sex and all that jazz, and makes it work. Not my goal, not my way, not my vibe.

I’m not going to bore you about every little detail of every date I go on, right down to where we went and what we ate. Who cares?!

I am not going to bore you with tales of endlessly spending night inside weeding through online profiles in hopes to make a connection just so I can write about it. And even if I did tell you of my fishing expeditions it would end up more like this post.

I’m not going to write about every cute and interesting boy I meet. Hell I’d be writing forever!

I mean maybe me never talking about my at the moment/in the moment dating and sex life makes me look desperate or pathetic in some way. Or just seem like a big loser, but I tend to think of it the other way.

I tell you stories I want to, I like to laugh at my self, and hopefully I make you all laugh too. And maybe sometimes I’ll throw alittle serious heartache story in the mix.

I am just me. Lost. And if you choose to not Find me that’s cool.

Also, I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again. I do not write about boys I am currently involved with or boys who feelings I care about, even if we are not dating. Some stuff is not for discussions, and not anyone else business….not because I’m ashamed of anything but because I care about others feelings. (and then sometimes I just ignore peoples feelings….my bad) Also, sometimes (although not very often) my life can be pretty plain and normal….so there is that!

But then again I could be looking at this whole love, sex, relationship, dating, and blogging thing all-wrong.

But then again….I never have an issue finding boys.

And sometimes, just sometimes I even find my heart a flutter.

I discussed standards the other day. How we need to learn to let things go after awhile. But thing is there are still things that we will always be attracted to about the opposite sex. I need nice teeth, some people need nice eyes, and some need boobs. This is the fact of life here, and that’s not to say some guy who loves boobs might fall in love with a flat as a little boy woman, it happens.

FACT: Me falling for a guy with bad teeth will never happen just so you know!

But what about a personality, or even more so the material things that reflect a persons personality.

We live in a materialistic world, and everyone loves things, no matter what they tell you. Things are good, and things somewhat make who you are. Like I hate getting rid of books that is telling to who I am.

So I’ve been thinking about what materials reflect well on a suitor I am have. Now reflecting materials are best seen in ones home. My kitchen aid mixer and my matching towels reflect more about my personality then my designer shoes and bags, or what glasses I happen to be wearing. How someone fills their living space, in a true reflection of how they fill their brain.

As I’ve slowly been unpacking my apartment and figuring out where to put everything I looked at my pile of art work and it made me think of guys. Guys with art.

Here is one thing I love, and something that will automatically make me intrigued and instantly more attracted to a guy. Art!

Now he doesn’t have to spend a fortune on art, or anything like that. Even one piece will make me look differently and pay more attention. This can even be a photograph. Guys with art make me swoon and get me interested in them. Their art choices tells alot about their personality, their likes, their dislikes, and their inner beauty.

I’ve become extremely attracted to guys with art collections, and photography walls. I can spend hours in museums so why not spend hours at a guy’s place admiring art and having sex.

An apartment without art is not a home, and if you don’t have a “home” why would I want to play house with you.

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.

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.

Remember Dating Boot Camp? Seems like forever ago, wait you already forgot about it. Well then, let’s pull out some information/advice I was taught back out there.

SIDEBAR: Notice that I said taught not learned.

We talked about dates and what to do and not to do on a date, it was called “dating” boot camp.  One ‘tip’ I never touched on had to deal with things you never do on a first date. Now one of their listed items had to do with things you say. And how you never say too much, never give away too much information about yourself. Tell interesting facts about yourself that leave someone wanting more, not running for the door.

Running for the door topics might include:

- My healer thinks I need to…

- I want to have babies, lots of babies.

- I’m not legally allowed to…

- My therapist says I….

(And so on)

But then there was a point made that I have a little issue with. Now we can all agree there are things you shouldn’t say on a first date, or even a 10th date. But Dating Boot Camp taught me that there are always things that stay locked away “in the vault forever”, that certain “skeletons should always stay in the closet” even if you’re married.

So here is my issue. Yes we all have secrets and we all have issues. I don’t need to know every little detail about you, your past, or anything, but you better ass believe if I’m going to do something like marry you I better be made aware of any skeletons.

How does this advice lend its self to a relationship built on trust?  How can one fully trust someone when there are secrets and an actual “vault”?

Our pasts make up who we are, and what we bring to a relationship. People who don’t talk about past relationships when they get into a new one always floor me. Or even worse refuse to talk about them. A friend told me about how her boyfriend doesn’t want to hear about any past relationship she has been in, “as far as I’m concerned you were a virgin when I meet you”, and he refuses to discuss his past too.

But see how one interacts in a relationship is directly related to how we have been treated and acted in the past.

My closet of skeletons is pretty small, and I usually don’t give my vault combo to just anyone, but when I do it’s because I’m with someone I trust and respect. More importantly I trust them to show me the same respect.