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Move in with me, babe

I emailed a guy on match.com today. In his photos – total hipster douche, complete with the deep v and a rather strange shot of him shirtless with the big black framed glasses and a beanie. Okay. Profile? Hilarious! Charming. Intelligent.

ENFJ and other things

I’ve taken the Jung type test before but I forgot what I was, apparently I’m ENFJ too. I don’t typically think of myself as overly extroverted, but maybe I am. According to the website I used ENFJ’s are “anti tattoo” which isn’t necessarily true, at least in my case and yours.Hipster bugs ha ha.

I live a ways from Boston which kind of sucks. But I pretty much live in yoga pants, so there’s that.

-V

[He’d mentioned something about moving bugs from the park to MFA, it would be like a vacation or some weird shit, and of course the Jung/Meyers-Brigg personality test where we both happen to be extroversion, intuition, feeling, judgment]
His response… drumroll please.

V,Before opening up your email I read your profile. You’re absolutely right about the anti-tattoo thing. We love em just fine and we’re both ENFJ’s. I know you’re some ways away and that fucking sucks. I’ll probably really get my hopes up about you and it won’t turn into anything. Here’s why….

Your profile is written out so stylistically. I love it. Us eccentric types really attract one another. Where usually passion is extremely high. I feel that would be us.

Your beanie, your zombie hat, and your smile are all things to admire. It makes me kind of giddy to be honest. You’d be surprised how many creative types there aren’t in Boston compared to NYC.

I wanna dip my toes in the pacific with you. I was planning a trip to London through my company. But might do the west coast instead. Who knows. Are you coming with me?

Are you gonna help me furnish and decorate my North End apartment here in Boston I have all to myself? Are you gonna paint with me and sleep outside with me and stare at stars at night on my rooftop?

Are you gonna help me not burn things coz i can’t cook, sleep next to me every night and wake up next to me every morning? Are you gonna be my intellectually, creative, sexy, and goofy partner in crime? Are you gonna take advantage of my body and walk around naked with me in the apartment and go on adventures and swim out to a sail boat at night by the waterfront with a bottle of cheese and wine?

It’s a bit strange, yes. But I’ve kind of have developed a pretty real crush on you. Coz truth be told I too once upon a time was a seeker of cheap thrills. And over the last couple of years I became more spiritual. Maybe we can talk about it sometime.

Maybe in a perfect dream you’ll leave NH and come live with me. no joking. It’s a city here. You can find a job. I’d be your support. haha. or maybe I’m just the silliest romantic that ever lived. But it’s not silly.

call me babe…

*insert phone number but do not sign name here*
LOL wha?
This may be my favorite psycho email ever. It’s so fucking flattering I can’t help but write back. Maybe I will run off and live with this mysterious man, if I can bring my cats. Ha ha ha.
PS. I  still don’t know what he means by my “zombie hat.” I am dressed in a costume in which I’m disemboweled in one of my photos, but I’m not wearing a hat. Puzzles!
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Sex with a side of bacon

So last night, after BV’s blow off, I was a sad cat. I could have gone out and met a new guy, but – that’s not what happened. I’ve been texting a lot with my friend, let’s call him Miles Away, because that’s how far he lives from me. Miles and I “met” on match.com, as has become customary in my dating life. He emailed me initially back in late March. I took a vacation to Georgia in early April, we had still been talking vaguely then. He’d added me on Facebook since he got rid of his match account, and we were “present” in each others lives that way. I think we finally had our first date in late May or Early June sometime, I could be off on the timing. I felt an instant comfort with Miles, but not necessarily an instant attraction. He reminds me TONS of my ex boyfriend Tye. Not exactly of course, but he is a compassionate, long-haired musician with a similar silhouette, mindset, and conversational style. Younger than me by almost two years at 25. We had a great date – but my friend who bar tends at the restaurant where we met vetoed him instantly, and I decided against dating him because he lives with his parents – I mentioned him here briefly. Plus, of course, the distance. Because I value honesty and don’t lead people on, I sent him an email letting him know I just wanted to be friends. And so we were.

Last weekend while BV was being a douche and MIA with his bros, Miles invited me to his friend’s lake house (only 30 minutes from my apartment) for swimming/grilling/drinking. I was a little nervous since I didn’t know anyone. As soon as I got there I was instantly at ease. The house was right by the lake, with a charming red barn and a pasture with horses, goats, chickens and a cow named Bess. Miles’ friends were warm, hospitable and fun. Miles and I sat cheek to cheek on a kitchen chair and listened to Skrillex. I shared my beer and they shared their food – grilled steak, chicken and asparagus right on the lake, enjoyed after a gorgeous swim. I couldn’t quite make up my mind about Miles – I was so impossibly at ease with him, laughter came easily and it was friendly, but I wasn’t exactly crushing…

Add beer. And a hammock. An hour after the sun had set, I was cozied up with him, friends had started a fire and things got cuddly. By the end of the night we had settled together on the futon inside watching Louis CK and Jim Gaffigan, laughing and cuddling again. We spent the night entwined in oversize sweatshirts. I left at 5:30 am as the sun was peeking out over the lake.

It hadn’t really occurred to me to kiss Miles, or do anything with him. It was innocent and PG – not that I felt that I owed anything to BV, but at the time, I had been holding out the deluded hope that he would turn out to not be an ass. Miles and I are pretty good friends these days, which means we text each other almost daily and so when I told him about some shit that was going on, he was an empathetic ear, and offered to come visit me and hang out. I hurriedly tried to get my apartment in order, but when he arrived I was in no makeup with undone hair and painting my nails. We listened to good melodic dubstep (shared love) and he took me to dinner (fried pickles)! During dinner we discussed my hookup with my best guy friend and how I had “chosen away” from him to explore things with BV, and how I had told K how much I regretted my mistake but he wants nothing to do with me. Since Miles was in the friend zone, I had been confiding in him about my romantic liaisons and he was always an honest and kind person to talk to who seemed to genuinely care. He observed that I appear “commitment phobic” and that he’d really like to see me “latch in” with someone. I explained my fears surrounding monogamy and commitment, and how I think I’ll know when I know.

Miles works third shift at a factory, so he would have to leave by 9 pm. I said “you should call out of work,” and he did – I was like, don’t do it on my account – but I’m glad he did. Went back to my place, candles were lit, and When Harry Met Sally conveniently was the film I had out from Netflix. Oh interesting. I love the honesty of that oh so classic movie – “men and women can’t be just friends,” which I think is pretty much, almost entirely true. Miles and I proved that when things inevitably heated up and he kissed me. I didn’t resist. It felt safe. He kissed good, I liked how his hands felt, and he has an impossibly well-muscled body I just had to devour. Sex is wonderful and cathartic and it was much much better than what I’d had with BV, or Nick Tornado (story for another time), or even my [former] best friend K.

He stayed the night and spooned me so good. He got along with my cats, enjoying with me all the cute things they do. According to him I am a “beautiful lady” and the things I say are “adorable.” AND PLUS he was so spiritually conscious. He brought up concepts that I try hard to live by like “what isn’t love is fear,” and how you cannot seek or expect happiness from a romantic relationship or any external source; it comes from within – otherwise you’re fucked. He believes the same things that I do, sort of nouveau Buddhist/new age/A Course in Miracles kind of thing. We could discuss it comfortably without going into long, obnoxious diatribes which I hate. And he isn’t emotionally dead like BV, or emotionally unavailable like M.

Morning came, and I made eggs with bacon and fresh fruit, and Irish Breakfast tea. I was in no makeup again. Today his Facebook status reads “fried pickles and candle light.” Ha ha.

xo,
V

PS: I need to read this book.

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The ultimate blow off

My so-called love life has been a swirling, tumultuous mess. I really hope this isn’t a reflection of my internal state or what I think I deserve – because I know I deserve better. BV blew me off. Originally had plans for this Saturday, then he moved them to Sunday because his “buddy” was coming up to visit. He ignored me. All. Weekend. Finally was able to get him to confirm plans yesterday. I also mentioned I was having a bad day, which I was, no response. Not that I expect my man friend to mend my emotional boo-boos, but would be nice to give a shit and be like “what’s wrong?” No. Then today, nothing. Ignored my phone call. Finally I was like, “I get it if you can’t or don’t want to hang, but don’t blow me off and ignore me.” He said “yeah can’t. My buddy’s staying an extra night. Can’t hang out tonight.” That sent me into a bit of a rage.

I said to him something to the effect of, this is shitty, you’re being a dirtbag, and am I wasting my time on you? NO RESPONSE.

I should be able to emotionally process a blow off by this point in my adult dating life. They don’t happen to me often, but I don’t think I’m alone in wanting to know why things happen the way they do. When the shoe is on the other foot, I try to be as straightforward as possible, even if it means hurting someone’s feelings. Yeah, it sucks, but when someone is asking for me to be honest with them, it’s really the least you can do. And BV apparently refuses to do that. It makes me really, really angry. I know he’s not the One, he’s not worth the space in my head to think about.

And so as I write this and try not to cry, because I’m a completely over-sensitive baby – I’ll let you know what else is new. There are other options on the menu (aren’t there always) but I’m just a bit cautious. I just want someone to scoop me up and make it all better. I have options for “dates” even tonight (I had cleared the night for douche BV, fuck!) but haven’t made up my mind if I want to be sorry for myself and watch True Blood with my cats or get gussied up and try to make a good impression on someone else in spite of my bitterness.

Stay tuned,

V

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Until the real thing comes along

So BV did come around, kind of. I sent him a text on Sunday asking how his trip to Vermont was. He responded back right away. I had been at my mother’s and wasn’t checking my phone very often, so when he responded asking what I was doing later and that he wanted to see me, I didn’t write back right away. An hour later he said something like “well let me know…” and I said I wanted to see him too, but by then Sunday was gone. He asked me to dinner for Tuesday, and this time I was watching a movie so I again didn’t reply immediately (totally unintentional). After a bit he was like “?” Hmm. Shoe on other foot perhaps?

Communication was somewhat solid for a day or so, and we had a splendid sushi date on Tuesday, followed by a nighttime beach drive/park (like teenagers, hot and steamy). He opened doors, paid the tab (he won’t let me) and was funny and charming and most of all, fun. BV is a really good-time dude. I just enjoy his company. I feel like it could definitely blossom if he were willing to open up emotionally or just be a little less…guy-like? I don’t know. He’s sporadic with his text responses, which range from 30 seconds to 20 hours. I just never know when I’ll hear from him, or if. He seems blasé about me. I’m used to men being more smitten with me, I’ll be honest. I’ve mentioned to pretty much all of my friends that he seems “insincere” and potentially “shady” but whenever I see him in person he feels and acts completely authentic. It’s puzzling.

Also strange because last year this time I was in a similar relationship stance – an adorable gentleman who I worked with (still do, technically) who was an almost but not quite. He was bad about communicating and didn’t seem sincere, and didn’t make efforts to take our courtship (oh, it was more of a fuckship) to a romantic level. Just kind of waiting on him. Maybe it’s because I’ve dated so much, or watched too many romantic indie movies, but I’m always holding out for sweet gestures and little tokens of someone letting you know they’re into you. BV doesn’t really do that. The neon flag is kind of there, but the reason I haven’t surrendered this one is because I think it could have potential…maybe. We haven’t had sex since our first time (he lives with parents!) so I’m not exactly sure if that’s all he’s in it for. He’s hard to read.

Sigh. It isn’t even that I want a “good man,” of course there are probably a few good men (heh…) to choose from. But will I get butterflies over them? Be attracted to them? Probs not. I’m picky as hell and THAT’S WHY I’M SINGLE.

That all said – whenever I’m feeling ambivalent like this about someone, I think it’s  good idea to keep the door open for other options. I have some prospects but none have blown me away (I hate match.com) and the whole pain in the ass of online dating is so awkward to me. I have more luck meeting someone, having a first date with them, then becoming acquaintances with them and THEN hooking up with them years later. Online dating is so out of context, maybe that’s why it hasn’t “worked,” because it seems so odd to try and fit someone in my life with no frame of reference.

Anyway. That’s what I’m doing…until the real thing comes along.

xo,
V

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When hopes implode

BV dumped me via text this morning. We had a wonderful, classic movie date the other night – I get discounted movie tickets from my work, so I bought a couple and we saw Moonrise Kingdom (love)! BV had left his wallet on the boat he spent all weekend partying on (derp). He refused to let me take him out “this early on” (!) so I bought myself food at Chipotle (wound up being free) and a beer each. We laughed a lot and I’m crushing hard. But, I find fear creeping up nonetheless. Something didn’t feel…right? He no longer seemed sincere. I can’t explain it. Then when I joked about me still wanting to go out today (Thursday) I said “unless you have a plan B or C girl” to which he said “what makes you think you’re not plan B or C?” Oh. Ha ha ha. Then he said something to the effect of – not exactly – but if he did have other options, he’d entertain them. Meanwhile, I haven’t logged into match in almost three weeks.

Was it the sex? Who knows. My logical side would think, if you had sex, you’d want more of that, but he started to treat me shittier. Yesterday he drifted out of our text conversation (I’d posed a question in regards to our plans for tonight) at 3 pm and I still hadn’t heard back by this morning. I was more than a little miffed. Being in touch is absolutely critical as far as I’m concerned. Other shortcomings can sometimes be overlooked but I really hate when guys drop out of a conversation. Do you not care? I sent him a somewhat harsh text this morning – something like “thanks for ghosting on me. Unless you were fending off zombies or wrestling a grizzly bear, I don’t get it. I feel really fucking unspecial.”

He responded back (immediately) saying he had worked late then crashed. I said “yeah…”  and he then unleashed an exacting monologue of how he “can’t do this” and that I am apparently “way too intense too soon.” How I shouldn’t read into anything he “does or doesn’t do.” I responded saying I realize he owes me nothing at this point, but that’s how I felt, and apologized for coming off as overbearing. He then proceeded to cancel plans for tonight, stating he had to go out of town for work this afternoon, and tomorrow, and I already knew he’d be out of town all weekend in Vermont, but he would “call later,” what that means, I have no idea. But he essentially scolded me, called me an overbearing psycho and backed out of any connection with me. Just. Like. That.

Of course, the tremendous dark cloud loomed over me as I came into work this morning. I bounced the scenario off my few close friends who seemed to agree he was getting shadier and didn’t seem like the upstanding gentleman we had hoped he was. BV is in LOVE with his bros. Which is fine and good, I have no problem with that…but I felt like an imposter, an unwelcome one at that. A week and a half and I’m already trying to keep tabs on him, is how he saw it. From my point of view…if you like someone, you’re not going to just disappear and leave them hanging. You don’t do it. It’s shitty.

While it isn’t officially GAME OVER for BV, it doesn’t look good. I hate when people are mad at me, even though I’m sometimes mean and impulsive myself, so I hope to make nice with him at some point. I don’t necessarily expect him to follow up but I may check in with him towards the end of the weekend to put a nice cordial bow on the sad, short, one pump and dump affair it was. Makes me wonder why he asked me out in the first place…

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Beauty in the breakdown

Alanis Morrissette sings it best – “you choose, you learn.”

After my July 4th tryst with my best guy friend, I knew I’d have to make my choice sooner than later, but I didn’t think it would be so soon. Earlier this week (Tuesday of all nights) I had a completely epic weekday date. My newest crush, BV, took me to dinner – I had a burrito with french fries in it and it was phenomenal. He paid the check without hesitating. We laugh constantly together. Everything is hysterical. Who knew this guy was a cube wall away from me so long ago and I never knew there was future romantic potential? Strange.

Then we went for a stroll along the beach of the romantic Atlantic at dusk. The sky turned from indigo to navy and we checked out the stars, walked in the waves and let the cool water lap at our ankles. Kissing. I guess getting swept off my feet wasn’t such a tall order, after all… we went back to “his” [parent’s] place afterwards, where his friend Ryan was staying. Although I’ve had to involuntarily bro out on 2 for 2 dates, I still had a splendid time. Ryan was hilarious and the “thing” that BV has to offer, more than anything, is laughter. And I like that a lot.

I realized after that date that something could really be there, and the more we made out the deeper I knew that I had to tell K about it and let him know that we couldn’t pursue anything romantic. It felt wrong to lie and lead two guys on at once. So I did, on Wednesday. He took it in stride as much as one can, but made no mix about the fact that the door of romance has closed for good. “I can only ever be your friend. I’m not waiting on the other side of whatever this may be.” Fair enough. I felt like complete ass, but after a lot of internal reflecting, I truly felt I’d made the right call.

Thursday was date 3 with BV. He books the dates before we end the one we’re on, which is so adorable. We went to this outdoor/indoor bar called Station where his buddy works, because apparently this was one of the last “buddies” who has yet to meet me. Then we headed back to his place again to cook curry chicken together and drink an impossible amount of gin and tonics. It was so fun. Kind of like pretending to be married in the big granite counter kitchen, stirring things, standing on my tiptoes kissing him after he lights the grill. Again, laughter. Always. With BV I’m thoroughly present, it isn’t too emotionally intense, and I’m relaxed, and pretty much as “myself” as I can be.

After lingering on the patio with our G&Ts we decided to take a moonlight dip and engage in some SSB – sexy swimming behavior. Lord have mercy…followed by a steamy, bubbly, Bachelor-esque hot tub session. Making out in water is next level sexy. As our rendezvous heated up and moved inside to the couch, I wondered out loud whether “what we do” will affect “how he thinks of me,” much like what Kat and Joe posted about. He begged me to stay the night, and I resisted and resisted. I didn’t have my contacts stuff, I hadn’t fed my cats properly, and I’d been gone since 8:30 that morning and worked all day.

Eventually though, his persistence paid off. And my resistance wore off, evidently, because he passed GO and collected his $200. And then some. And it was sweaty and amazing like it should be. I hardly slept, but he cuddled me so good. I had to function off three hours sleep and drive home at 8:00 to shower and apologize to my cats and get ready for a long day at work.

Meanwhile… my friend A was asking if BV could join for a shindig that’s happening today (Saturday) and when asked about it, initially BV said he was free, then got squirrelly, and has been all about his bromances last night and today. I was secretly hoping for a trip to his VIP beach and, of course, that he would bring his charming self out to meet my most important local friends. Nope. But he wants to come over “later,” which is so disappointing to me. It’s putting up red flags for my friend, especially seeing how I’ve met all of his friends and he’s met zero of mine, and the opportunity comes and he’s doing whatever. Disappointment over a guy isn’t a new feeling, but I was hoping that I’d picked a good one and that he would step up. He’s done everything else right.

Did I fuck too soon? I keep beating myself up. It sucks to be the girl who has to keep staving off the guy, and the minute we “give it up,” we’re a whore and we lose our credibility as a legitimate, intelligent, date-worthy woman. BV has still been present, but I’m hoping that my choice doesn’t negatively impact our chances together. Because honestly, I liked liking him. And I almost never like anyone…

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Down ass chick

Down ass chick: a girl that is not high maintenance, she’s down for whatever and doesn’t complain when you hang with the boys. ride or die chick.

Hey man, the girl I’m dating is a down ass chick. 
– Urban Dictionary
I had sex with my best friend in the world on the Fourth of July. At a party, drinking whiskey shots like no big deal and knocking back beers while the men grilled huge slabs of meat. MERICA! I wore a tiny white tank top, bright blue shorts and red lipstick which was ruined before 9 pm. My best goddamn friend. This is the man who I’ve denied having feelings for in the past and apparently, well, I do. He isn’t around a lot since he splits his time between his apartment here and his family’s house in northern NH where he cares for the estate and his father who has cancer. He’s easily the best man I know. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I could just call off the search and be with him, someone who knows me so well, who’d never hurt me?

The dude I mentioned here had asked me out and I was intrigued. So bad with the fake names so we’ll have to call him BV so I don’t get confused. He was adorably earnest – “when can I take you out?” and on the night before the Fourth, he told me he took his five year old niece to the fireworks. The way he described her was so freaking adorable. He spells things correctly and uses punctuation. It’s so sexy.

So go out we did – met for beers at a bar near my work yesterday evening when I got out. It was probably our first actual conversation that wasn’t didn’t take place around a fax machine, which we both laughed about. Apparently we had always found the other attractive but it’s so hard in work mode sometimes. “You faxing this paper?” “Yeah. You too?” Also he’d had a girlfriend and I’d had a boyfriend. He moved to Durham, North Carolina with her last year. She cheated on him. He found out, packed a Budget truck and came back home. Is temporarily living with parents. Turns out he’s funny and sweet. He’s “Irish as hell” and has a mop of wavy dark blond hair, cute freckles and a nice beard, which is acceptable even in its current trimmed-down stage. He also happens to know M, who was the guy I wanted on and off for five years but can’t have because they worked together. Small fucking world.

The plan for the rest of the evening was to go to his “buddy’s house” who was having a fire. He warned me that it would likely be “intense” but I told him I was “down for whatever” and we were trying to avoid this from happening, which my good friend George had shared with me on Facebook and it’s brilliant and I really love Emma Koenig now because she’s pretty and brunette and a cool singer… We leave my car parked at the bar, and we drive out in the woods for awhile. Picked up a rack of Budweiser (night’s getting better). We got there and BV has to go pee and he’s a guy and before I know it he’s a few yards away taking a piss by the garage. My date is peeing in front of me! Is this real? This shindig is down in a field and we have to ride out there a “gator” and I’m wearing jeans and have changed out of my five inch wedges for patent leather sandals but I’m still wearing my sleeveless button down chiffon tank from work while my butt is hovering above red Solo cups and a beer puddle, bumping down a hillside towards the fire.

The whole time, BV’s asking me if I’m really ok with this, telling me I’m a good sport, etc etc. Realize when we get there that it’s Sausage Fest 2012. I am the one and only female. It was like frat party bliss but a few years later, 25-30 group. One of them is getting married soon apparently so this was sort of like bachelor party-esque. BV handed me a Bud, and before I knew it his buddy handed me a bottle of Jameson and I was swigging out of it like I was 21 again. I had a marvelous time. His friends joked around with me and we had to tell the “how we met” and “this is our first date” story about five or six times and it kept getting cuter. He put his arm around me and walked me all the way to the house when I needed to pee. It was indeed intense, all the dudes around, none of whose names I can really remember.

BV was really concerned about me being okay and comfortable, and was hoping that he wasn’t “blowing” things. He mentioned several times that I’m “not like other girls” and once that I’m a “tough nut to crack,” which amused me. Admittedly I’m not sold right away and maybe I can come off as a little aloof at first. He was so sweet though. Our first kiss was in the field, under the stars. Accidental. But still amazing. His friends apparently thought I was cool and described me as a “down ass chick,” which flattered the hell out of me. I chugged so much water and we sobered up, and he drove me back to my car. We sat in his truck for the longest time before we started kissing again. I felt like a teenager.

Lately I’ve been running around different places, with various men. I would feel a little slutty if I wasn’t having so much fun. (Not that I’m having sex with all of them, lord!) I had to tell my best friend about my date, and he was warm and wonderful. He said that I should go out and enjoy myself because he’s always going to be my friend, he wants what’s best for me and he said that I will never lose his friendship. That’s pretty solid right there… Stay tuned though…