Validation

I've been meaning to write a post about my high school days, but I keep putting it off. This is somewhat related to what I want to write, but not really. Yeah, that makes sense. Okay, it doesn't, but whatever.

I was at work tonight and running around, answering questions. I got paged over to a new banker's desk and I walked up to this girl. Here's the conversation:

A: Hi Beth.
B: Hi, you must be Asija. Nice to meet you. [I offer my hand for a handshake.]
A: You went to Fridley.
B: *Blank look.* Yes, I did.
A: I remember you.
B: Oh, you must have gone there too then.
A: Yep.
B: Were we in choir together?
A: Yes.
B: What year did you graduate?
A: '97.

This is when I realized that I probably had many classes with this woman, but I have no clue who she was back then. I don't remember her AT ALL. But she remembers me.

This is not the first time I've run into someone from high school and they remembered me and I didn't know who they were. It's not that I'm bad with names or faces, in fact, I'm fairly good at remembering people. There are just some people from high school who seem to have known me and I can't remember ever having a conversation with them. I feel bad for not knowing them, but then I feel a little validated. Like I meant something to someone. Kind of odd, but kind of cool.

I don't know if I shared this story or not, but I will, since I'm on the topic of school days.

During my first year of college, I received an email from a boy named Andre. His email was intriguing, so I replied. Here's the e-conversation:

A: Hi, I looked at your profile and I see you are named Beth and went to Fridley. Were you in such and such's afternoon kindergarten class?
B: Hello, yes, I was. Do I know you?
A: I wanted to find you and thank you. I went to Fridley for one year and the only person I remember is a young girl named Beth. See, I am Asian and all the kids picked on me. She always stood up for me and wouldn't let the others make fun of me because I didn't speak English as well as they did. Are you her?
B: Um, yes, that was me. I remember you. I didn't remember that you had troubles with English, just that I wanted to make the shy boy feel comfortable and play with the group.
A: Thank you. I will always remember the nice girl who helped me and stood up for me.

That was the end of the conversation, but I felt good about it. I do remember this young boy, so nice but so quiet. It honestly never crossed my mind that he didn't speak the same language, I just thought he was shy. He was nice though and I would invite him to play games with my friends and I tried to include him. I was a little more of the social butterfly when I was little though.

About my desire to make friends, my mom likes this story.

Spoken in my mom's voice:

One day I hear Beth outside the window, talking and talking. I thought maybe she was just telling herself a story and then I heard a man's voice. I was surprised and so I looked out the window. There was Beth and the garbage man. She had engaged him in a long conversation. She was three years old and had a fifteen minute conversation with the garbage man. She told him all about the dog and about her Barbie's. She even asked him about his job. At least she has no problems making friends.

This post strayed from the original topic, but it's just a little of who I was as a child. I sometimes wonder if I'm still the same inside or if life has changed me. Is it nature or nurture?

4 Comments:

At 8:51 AM, The Lioness said...

Beth, see why I adore you? And you were like this as a kid already! Never worry, when I was 9 my y mum arrived home one afternoon to find the house packed w gipsy kids, I'd decided they needed to be fed. The housekeeper was hovering, trying to make sure nothing was stolen and almost had a heart attack. My mum as well, these were tough kids. Come to think of it, I think some of them had beaten me or did later on, they were pretty, well, rough. I also brought home dead animals - snakes mostly - to heal them. And was always sick. What a shitty kid I was!

Anyway, see why the bubble-bursting is a must? HOW ELSE are you going to find your adorable match? V v cool post! VERY!

At 8:53 AM, The Lioness said...

Bloody hell, daft of me: I'd say nature has LOADS to do with it, but nurturing can't have harmed none. But I say you were pretty much who you are now. People never give genes enough credit and yet biology rules us to an amazing degree. I suppose it's easier to think there's AL WHOLE LOT we can do about it. We can, but to a much smaller degree than we's be comfortable with.

At 10:00 PM, rod said...

My first born is exactly like me. In some ways, even I think that is good, but in other ways, I hope he can do something about it.
Mainly, we're introverted and have a very hard time with nonsense, casual conversation - or even starting a conversation period. But if you start it, we can ramble on for hours. My son, Jack, has always been very conversant with adults, even when he was 3 years old, and as a result, adults have always enjoyed him and never talked childish with him. So when the two of us are together, we just act stupid to make up for all the seriousness.

At 6:09 AM, CarpeDM said...

Well, of course she remembers you. You're the coolest person ever.

Stuff

Did you really think I could go an entire day without a new post about THE BOY and what this whole thing is doing to me? Ha!

Thank you everyone for your comments. They help. They really do. I appreciate the time taken to read what I feel I need to get out.

One thing about the comments that disturbed me slightly. Both Lioness and Matt have abbreviated THE BOY as TB. It is easy and cute, but the initials TB mean something else to me and I was taken aback each time I read them. My dad's initials are TB and that's just an association I'd rather not make. So please forgive me if I don't type THE BOY as TB.

I went to Perkin's tonight with Matt. I had called him on my lunch break (which of course I didn't eat) and told him how hungry I was. It seems that not only have I forgotten the affair with Coca-Cola during my time of insanity, but I tend to forget to eat now too. I had realized that the last meal I had was a winter event dinner my company gave us on Tuesday night and I begged him for a couple of games of cards and keeping me company while I ate like a pig.

While talking to Matt, I kept coming back to one topic. I'm having a VERY difficult time thinking of anything else (which is good and is bad. I do still have to go to school and do my job, but I keep getting lost in my thoughts. This is fun, but unproductive).

Why, oh why, is it not Sunday yet? But I'm coming into the home stretch. There is Friday (work without the boss there and may drive me insane and then Sheepsheadians at Fridleykin's!). Then there is Saturday (another boring day at work but then DM and I are going to make holiday cards all night long). Then it is Sunday! I have plans on Sunday to go see Ocean's Twelve with DM and my dad. Then KARAOKE and hopefully THE BOY will be there. I think he will and I'm really excited for it, but I don't want to get my hopes up too high. I'm so afraid I'm setting myself up for disappointment, yet it's so easy to get caught up in the moment (even if the moment seems to last for an eternity).

I read a post on the Lioness's site tonight. Wow. It's called, "A rose by any other name". She surprised me with her words. The topic is not surprising, but the way she described her feelings touched my soul. That's the only way I can explain it. I mean, WOW! Read it. I mean it.

I'm still having THE BOY induced dreams. Like I could dream about anything else. Last night while talking to Matt, he mentioned he was folding laundry. Now I realize what happened to my dream. I was dreaming I was at a bar/club but the attraction was doing laundry. There were lines of people trying to use the washing machines and I think THE BOY was at the bar somewhere. There may have been karaoke going on. I remember folding sweaters. Then my alarm clock went off again and I looked up, realizing I had to be at work in 12 minutes. I overslept a little today. (Oh, I did actually make it to work on time. Don't ask me how, but I did. I still had pillow marks on my face when I walked in, but I was on time.)

I keep thinking about HIS eyes. I am lost in them, even when he's not here. I had forgotten how much power a look could have. I find myself staring off into space, thinking about those eyes. Or maybe not those eyes, but what's behind those eyes. There's a sparkle in them that sends my spirits soaring.

I need to try and not be so distracted during the week. It's affecting other parts of my world. But I can't help it and that's fun and crazy. Oh well. So I'm sitting here with a smile on my face thinking about him. This could really hurt if nothing happens the way I want it to. Ug!

Well, I have one last quick post for the night and I'll get to that soon here. No more thinking of THE BOY (or at least, no more blogging about HIM tonight).

4 Comments:

At 9:00 AM, The Lioness said...

Beth, how lovely to see you like this, really. But shitty no? Let's start a club, high up on a tree, and then we can have a secret "open sesame" of our own and a mysterious greeting.

I'm happy you liked my post, I'd been thinking abt it for a while. It's exactly 1 year today since I broke up w ex and what a good thing that was. Writing it was easy bcs it's what i want, really, and because the antithesis made it even clearer. Hell, Godspeed, the men couldn't handle me!

It will come to pass, dahling, it will come to pass. And I will read ALL ABOUT IT!!!

At 9:03 AM, The Lioness said...

Why do I KEEP DOING THIS??? Re THE BOY, I thought you were going to complain bcs it also means TB, only occurred to me post-fact, but yes, TOO BLOODY CREEPY, how about DA BOY? DB for short? BEcause i feel I know him really, come right in and make yourslef comfortable, would you like a cuppa tea?

At 1:49 PM, brooksba said...

Lioness,

DB is my grandfather. And he goes by DB. I'm sorry. You've figured out THE BOY's real name and see how it can get confusing when talking karaoke? I just don't know.

I'm still half asleep and writing this so I don't know if makes any sense.

Beth

At 6:26 PM, The Lioness said...

I meant bcs TB is short for Tuberculosis. Well now... How abt OR, "O rapaz" (Oo Rrrapash, stress on last syllable, THE BOY in mother tongue). Also means light in Hebrew ;).

OMG, you linked to the post! I must be half deranged, how did I miss this? Thank you for liking it so much. I have resent email but don't know what else to do, *clears throat and prepeares Israeli phrasing* why you never get them? WHY you never get MY emails?

Kitty Cat

On Sunday afternoon, my mom calls me and I did not have a chance to tell her anything. Why did I not get to tell her anything (about THE DATE from H-E-double hockey sticks) you ask? Because she likes to tell me stories about the animals she has at her house.

My mom has two dogs and one cat. They are Taco, Chip, and Mac. Mac's the cat that makes Godzilla look scrawny. My mom has never been a cat person until she heard that the window licking cat needed a home and she took him in. Taco and Chip have adjusted and now my mom only talks about the trio. She came to the realization that Fridley (where she lives) will allow a single family dwelling to have two dogs and two cats as domesticated animals and she is considering getting another cat. My mom told me during this fifteen minute conversation (well, fifteen minutes of her spewing information) that she wants another cat.

Three hours later she calls me as I'm at my dad's with my dad and DM to let me know that she found a cat. She wasn't looking for a cat at that moment specifically, but she found a cat. Her neighbor came over to ask her if she would take care of this cat that keeps coming to his door.

This cat is just barely older than being a kitten and obviously came from a home where someone put money into the cat. It is completely declawed and has been neutered. She took this animal into her home and made signs and distributed them throughout the neighborhood, looking for his owner.

Her boyfriend, a man who doesn't like animals (but seems enthralled by Mac, Taco, and Chip), has taken a liking to this kitty. He wants to name him but my mom won't let a name be considered yet, especially since this cat belongs to someone else. She's just taking care of him to make sure he's safe and happy.

Well, she calls me and leaves messages about how the boys are reacting to the cat and now she's started emailing me cat stories. Now that I've given you the background, I can share some of the moments I've had listening to messages and reading my email.

First of all, Taco likes the kitten. Taco is older (17 1/2 years old) and doesn't see well anymore. He's still very healthy, but his eyesight is going and he walks in circles a lot. He gets tired and my mom hasn't heard him barking in about a year. I think he's losing some of his energy, but he's still in a loving home and my mom will do anything for him.

Off topic a little, but I need to explain what my mom would do for Taco. For the winter, she is putting up a baby guard so he stays in one part of the house during the day and at night. If he whines at night, she'll pick him up and take him outside. She won't let him try to go down the stairs at night because she's afraid of his loss of eyesight might make him fall and she is afraid of that. She wakes up 3 times a night so he can go piddle. During the day, she goes to work and leaves him in the area that is blocked off. She knows he can make it up and down the stairs in the light, but she's afraid he might go outside and get stuck. So for the winter, she won't let him get lost outside. My mom doesn't care if he has an accident in the house, she said, "It's only pee or poop. I can handle that." My mom has a pretty heavy duty carpet cleaner and she's not afraid to use it. She has also taken to having longer lunches at work and then staying late. She comes home on her lunch break to take Taco outside. That's love.

So Taco doesn't bark anymore. When the kitten arrived, he started playing with it and chasing it (playfully - Taco has always loved kittens. He thinks he's the mommy.) He barks at it to play with him. It's like 5 years came off his age when this kitten walked in the door. So, even if she doesn't keep the kitten, I'm sure she'll get another one.

Chip likes the kitten, but the newness has depleted. At first, he'd follow it around and do this half tail wag thing. Chip came from a pet store and has always been a skittish dog. He tries to be brave, but you can see the caution he uses when there is anything that scares him around. With this kitten, it's like he's saying, "I want to like you, please don't hurt me."

Mac doesn't hiss at this kitten anymore at least. My mom wanted to make sure Mac didn't feel like this kitten has replaced him. So she takes extra time to pay attention to Mac and of course, this includes giving him even more food. I swear, this cat has a throw pillow for a stomach. It just waddles underneath him.

The email I got from my mom today. Enjoy!

He'll eat anything. I gave him Cheerios yesterday morning to shut him up. Scott [her boyfriend] has given him a tomato and an almond and he stole some lettuce off Scott's plate. He told me to watch it for him and was a little miffed that I didn't chase the kitten away. Geez, I was waaaay too busy looking for the camera to worry about protecting his salad. It's not like it was MY salad the cat was eating!

I love her. She's crazy, but I love her. She'll do anything to give joy to a creature that has given her even an ounce of happiness. Now I understand why my dad always said, "If there is such a thing as reincarnation, I'd like to come back as one of Laurie's [my mom] pets."

Correction: I typed the wrong word and now I've corrected it.

2 Comments:

At 8:43 AM, CarpeDM said...

I love your mom. I can't believe that cat eats salad. Weird.

When did your dad change his name to Laurie?

At 9:13 AM, The Lioness said...

I was going to ask abt that! Lovely post, your mom is opne of my own, as we say.

But. Kitten is still small and giving him a mix of human foods can upset his GI tract majorly, REALLY, especially if he has parasites. He should only eat baby food. Am a bit sad abt the declawing, it's not just nails you know, it's the entire first phallanx, the first little bone of the paws. So yes, bone amputation, very nastty and painful to recover from. Also, leaves him absolutely helpless if he needs to fight other cats or dogs bcs he cannot protect himself anymore AND he cannot climb trees, you see. Am v concerned abt a family who LETS HIM OUTSIDE after doing this to him. I'm praying your mum gets to keep him. Wish I could come round and TAKE ALL THE SIGNS DOWN! PEople make me so mad at times!

AND WHY AREN'T YOU ANSWERING MY DESPERATE EMAIL??? [You and DM don't like me anymore? *Sniff*]

Extreme Compatibility

Sounds like a reality show, doesn't it? The title for tonight's CRAZY train post is from my conversation with Matt.

I am going to just write and see what comes out tonight. I'm going insane inside my head and I think I just need to get things out. Not that the things are necessarily bad, just my brain has gone into complete overactive mode.

You know how hard it is to type the word brain? I keep wanting to flip the vowels. Hey, surprise, you might get THE BOY's real name by doing this. ARGH!

Alright, so last night I wrote a post called Advice Anywhere I Look. There are a few things I want to go into from that post.

1) Anyone reading this site should not feel that I don't appreciate the advice. I do appreciate all of it and the people reading this site consistently know more about me and what I feel inside than my co-workers do. My co-workers see me as this crazy, bouncy person who is always upbeat and claps at dumb things. I have been asked if I've ever considered being a pre-school teacher who moonlights as a lawyer with about 20 children. I'm seen as the mother-figure who happens to like going on logical vants on the quality assurance team and I have a good success rate at it.

That said:

Lioness, Do NOT feel terrible about the phone number business. I KNOW I should exchange phone numbers with THE BOY and I was only trying to explain how much outside my comfort bubble this is. Layers may still be a big step for me (actually, I've had them before and I hated them every moment. I couldn't wait for my hair to grow out and I could get rid of them. But then, I've always wanted the long, straight hair of hippies, even if I'm not a hippy. Strange? Yes.)

DM, Thank you for acknowledging the fact that the situation I am looking for needs to be comfortable and safe. That is a priority for me and I appreciate how much you saw that. I may drag you with me (which probably defeats the idea of a date, but whatever). I still think you're the greatest friend EVER for faking an asthma attack to get out of the "HOW DID I END UP ON A DATE WITH PETE?" In fact, EVERYONE thinks you're the greatest friend ever. And that you're bloody brilliant. You are.

Big Brother, I appreciate how much you are there to listen. Even if I'm going crazy, you are there, helping me try and hold onto the one piece of sanity left in my head. I'm not sure where that piece is, but you're helping me find it. I have to honestly say I have never met a MAN who is so AWESOME at listening. You have a skill and the women of the world THANK YOU for it. Seriously folks, Matt is one hell of a listener. He lets you know that he would like to solve your problems, but he can't. So he offers an ear and helps you think out what you are trying to say, feel, think. I appreciate the phone calls this week. I hate* talking on the phone but you've made it fun.

Oh, while I'm on the subject of talking to Matt on the phone, I need to share a short story.

On Sunday, as I was dropping DM off at home after karaoke, she said, "I can see you and THE BOY still doing this when you're 80."

In relaying this to Matt, he says, "No she won't. She'll be 102 and have a hard time seeing anything."

To which I replied, "She'll only be 91!" I was defiant in defending DM's age. Don't make her 11 years older than she is. Come on!

Uncle Larry, Thank you for your support. Your words made me smile and made me realize that I may over analyze this whole thing, but what will happen will still just be what will happen. I do appreciate the letting me see there is no answer, even if I can't let go of trying to find one. I feel better knowing that I can keep looking, but I don't need to find the answer. If that makes any sense at all.

So, back to stuff. I don't know what stuff is, but back to it.

Today at work, 6 more people asked me about Saturday night. Oh God! Why can't I keep my mouth shut about this whole thing? Oh yeah, because I'm so excited I can barely sit still. That's why. I got more advice dished out to me. The funniest may have been, "Be natural and aggressive." Um, hello? Being aggressive is not my style so how could that remotely resemble being natural? But then, I do have to acknowledge that the people at work see me as the one with absolutely no fear. Who needs to fear the business world? That's business, not human. It's easy to be aggressive at work. There are no consequences of being seen as that crazy lady who likes a certain BOY. So of course they all think I should be able to date THE BOY. I don't know if this is true. Maybe he doesn't like me (and then I'm really confused as to all the signals given off. I'm probably 99.99% positive he "digs" me, but I'm still chicken.)

And WHY ISN'T it Sunday yet? Huh? Yeah, that's right. I want it to be karaoke night again. And then I remember, it's not good to wish days of your life away. So I guess frustration works. It's about Wednesday night each week I wish I had his phone number or he had mine and he would call. I can get through Monday and Tuesday fine, but come Wednesday, I start really wishing for time to speed up and I could try to do SOMETHING (that I don't know, even after this much crazy thought) at karaoke. Ug!

Oh, and the random crazy thought last night, I did that with NO CAFFEINE. I forgot to drink Coke yesterday. That's how much THE BOY is on my mind. I have been addicted to Coca-Cola since I was 1 1/2 years old and I FORGOT to drink some. I've only had one can of Coke tonight and I'm still going into over worked and under paid mode with my mind. Maybe the caffeine would calm me down. It usually has a more soothing effect on me anyway.

You think sleep would stop this process. No. Not a chance. In fact, I've started having dreams about this entire thing. Not cool, fun dreams (like what I'd like to do to THE BOY *smile a sly grin*) but dreams about thinking about what to do about THE BOY situation. Even MY DREAMS are resembling a logical vant. This is torture.

Also, does anyone else's dreams ever start out with a title sequence? That may have been the oddest thing I've ever run into during my stay at the Land of Nod. Seriously, my dreams last night started with a title (such as the first one, "The Dream in Which Beth Contemplates How She Would Respond to...") and a cast of characters. I don't even watch TV and my dreams are turning into sitcoms. Oh look, there's a man with a pretty white jacket at my door. Should I open it?

And I keep thinking I'm going to turn into one of THOSE WOMEN. You know what I'm talking about. The ones that have to know the feelings and what he's thinking. Here's the thing (men, cover your eyes, this is extremely sexist and I do apologize but I'm saying it anyway) about what men are thinking. If a man is staring at the wall and a woman asks him, "Whatcha thinkin'?" he will reply, "Nothing." He replies this not because he is hiding anything, but because he's either thinking of nothing or he's forgotten what it was once his train of thought was broken. I swear, if I EVER ask a man this, I'm going to slap myself.

Shoot me now.

And yet, this entire thought process is not a miserable one. I am frustrated, but I still like thinking about THE BOY. I have it bad for him. I haven't felt this way is such a long time and I'm scared to death, but I'm still feeding off the rush. I had forgotten what it feels like to have this much of a crush on someone.

For those wondering, I'm not just interested in him physically. In fact, that is usually the last thing I think of when I picture him. I don't know what it is specifically that draws me to him, other than the fact that when he smiles, his eyes light up and I can see more expression in them than I remember in another person. I'm sure others have expressive eyes, but I register his expression more. That sounds strange, yes, I get that. But it's what I feel.

Did I mention that I've looked him in the eyes more than I can explain and yet I can't tell you what color his eyes are? My brain completely shuts down when I look into those eyes and I can't remember the color of them. I thought for awhile that they might be a light, gray blue. Last week, I thought they might be a dark blue, but now I can't remember at all.

I told Matt tonight that when I look in his eyes, I feel like I've reached a Zen state where my mind goes free and nothing other than that look matters. It sounds petty and selfish, but I like the way he looks at me. I feel special to think that's the look someone has when they see me. I'm addicted to it. It's hard to explain, but it's like heroin. And I go through withdrawals. I didn't know I could get addicted to a person's eyes.

And all this about a man that I don't know his last name. I'm officially insane. At least I know I'm insane. That's the first step, right?

Being around him makes me such a flighty person. I'm not saying I sound like a valley girl or anything, but that I can't concentrate on multiple things at once. When he's there, I can only concentrate on him. That's all that registers. I feel bad about it too.

For example (and sorry DM, I don't mean this personally), at karaoke last Sunday, I was talking to THE BOY about a band that this guy, Nate, was singing a song from. The song he was singing was, "No Rain" by Blind Melon. I registered the music somewhere in the back of my head but I was talking to THE BOY. We were discussing another Blind Melon song and when it came out. The song was almost over when I looked up at the stage quickly. I looked back at THE BOY and it took a full 15 seconds before I did the double take. I looked back at him and said, "When did DM start singing this song?" He looked equally confused and said he had no idea. Neither of us registered what was going on RIGHT NEXT TO US. DM had been sitting across the table from me, not two feet away. How did I miss that? And I want to give DM the attention she wants when singing. I'm not sure I want this side effect of looking into his eyes. But I still crave it.

So imagine how disappointed I'd be if I go to karaoke on Sunday and he's not there. I will live of course, but I'll go even crazier over the next week.

On a side note, I have two posts for Out of the Mouths of Morons that I should work on. Which would you like to see first?
A) Blinded by the Light
B) What Some Will Spend to Save a Buck or Two

No man can possibly be worth all this thought, can they? It shouldn't be this crazy in my head, should it?

As always, thanks for reading. I appreciate your taking the time to just listen to my crazy thought process. I'm trying to share a little about who I am and I never know if I'm close to what I'm feeling, but I try. Sometimes it just helps to type and let my mind go. I can't get all the thoughts down on the computer fast enough and there is more running through my head at all times, but I try to share what I can. Hopefully my future posts won't need to be as unorganized and random.

-------

*Five years of working in a call center can do that to a person.

3 Comments:

At 8:49 AM, The Lioness said...

Dahlingest Beth, first of all, regardless of what we say, you will of course do what is best for you. Or at any rate, what you want to do. But I'll say this much from MY PERSONAL perspective: you are too loving not to take chances when meeting men that interest you. It'd be too much of a shame to waste something that could be lovely bcs of fear. Still, I understand that fear, I really really do. It must be especially bad for you bcs, well, it's not logical and there's nothing you can do to control the way you feel. Reading your post threw me back to times when I coulkdn't eat or sleep and could measure my blood pressure by placing a hand on my belly. Nothing is more terrifying and nothing is more exhilarating. I've often wondered how you survive during the week, now I know - barely, uh? It would drive me bonkers, absolutely! I think something is bound to happen soon bcs the tension has been mounting for weeks now and it's reaching a peak. It will sound shitty but I love that you are being ravaged by pherormones, hormones and biochemistry in general bcs I still think a) you needed to be thrown off-balance [i.e. bubble-bursting] and b) it will NOT be in vain, regardless of how much aggro THE freaking BOY has given you and ME (and BOYSTER, yes, I do take it personally, make the move already you slow-paced idiot, we're all dying here!)

Hugs and kisses, dahling, hugs and kisses.

(Loved figuring out HIS name, BTW)
(Go for the straight look if that's what you love. I'll still tell you with the RIGHT cut, layers would look smashing on your hair.)

At 6:24 PM, CarpeDM said...

Beth, great post. I agree with The Lioness, I think it's good for there to be some bubble bursting. Not bursting with disappointment but for you to step outside of your bubble.

You know, now that I'm looking at this, there seems to be more than I remember reading. Did I miss part of this? How did I miss this? Okay, reading over. How did I miss this? This is hilarious! I think I was reading part of it and I had to go to work. That's what happened.

Maybe it's mean but I'm glad you're going through this, a little. We've talked about how it's hard for you to stop processing everything and I'm glad that THE BOY can make your brain shut off a little bit, that you can reach that Zen-like state.

I like THE BOY, what I know of him so far. Not so thrilled with Pete. I wish it was Sunday as well. But tomorrow is Friday. That's good.

At 11:06 PM, Matt said...

Little Sister,
I loved thispost, I truly, truly did. I am glad that we are able to communicate the way that we do, and I am glad that I was able to take a couple of nights and make them fun and intresting on the phone for you. By the way, thank you so much Miss Beth, that was one of the nicest things that anyone has ever typed, or said about me. Thank you so much. I am truly honored to be your Big Brother, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Sincerely,
Big Brother
Matt

Advice Anywhere I Look

Well, leave it up to me to not be discrete about my life. There are some things about myself I keep extremely confidential and yet there are some things I can't seem to contain. I guess this is normal, but I need to be better at keeping certain facts about myself less known.

What am I referring to? THE BOY. What else? Can I think of anything else? Huh? Could I? (Sorry, there's my internal nagging kicking in.)

In my excitement, I've told, oh let's see, EVERYONE about my crush. I'm going to end up extremely embarrassed soon about this entire thing. Well, if I end up hurt, at least everyone will know the back story, right?

I walked into work today and was asked by at least 15 people how THE DATE went. Everyone got a good chuckle out of it. And every single one of them offered some piece of advice about what to do.

What to do??? How about nothing! Yes, I still want to do something, but I have no clue what anymore and I'm confused as all heck and everyone has an idea and what they would do (yeah, right, that's why they're all still single, uh huh). Except I can't do what someone else would do. Then it wouldn't be what I would do.

How come advice is always so easy to dish out but so hard to take? I'm not talking about all advice, I'm mainly referring to dating advice. I guess I take some of it to heart, but the people at work don't really have the full story or what I think or who I am and what limitations I have for myself to consider.

There's the woman who complains about her married life constantly (she's usually joking though. This is a different person than the woman who just complains about everything. This complaining is usually more light hearted and funny. Like, "My son shows more affection than my husband does. At least he'll make a good husband.") She seems to feel that I NEED a man in my life and that if I'm not married within 3 months, I'm doomed for all eternity. If that were true, I wouldn't care so much as who the guy was, just that he was a man then. Um, what happened to finding actual compatibility and LIKING the person you might date. Hello??? She tells me to write letters and notes and be EXTREMELY forward with THE BOY. Anyone who knows me IRL may or may not think I'm forward. When it comes to friendship and work, I can be forward. When it comes to anything intimate at all, I'm so completely opposite, it's ridiculous. Case in point, I had a fight with Adam once and he and I actually spent 6 hours in the living room talking about it. Or, for a better description, he spent 6 hours trying to get me to actually tell him what was bothering me. You know, as bad as some of the fights were with Adam, he did take that one time to force me to open up. It's odd, he felt he hurt me by doing that and I felt that was the time he actually showed that he cared about what I was feeling. See, I bring it on myself.

Okay, back to topic. Advice, right? Well, one woman told me today that I should invite THE BOY over for a home cooked meal.

Who's laughing? There are so many problems SCREAMING at this suggestion.

1. My apartment is a disaster area. No way am I inviting him over here without massive cleaning and organizing. I guess I could do this in about a day. It's not a major reason against it, just something I found as an excuse. (Yes, I have reservations and I will find excuses to avoid certain things. Him seeing where I live without more progression is something I'm afraid of. Sue me.)

2. I can't cook! Ha! Well, that's not entirely true. I can cook, but I don't cook. I don't prepare for meals and so I tend to have a completely random diet. I guess I could try to make the horrible "pasta" salad I made one night. Let's see, it consisted of pasta (al dente! 'Cause I didn't boil it long enough) and Italian dressing. I added a piece of cheese too. It was lame. Then there was the baked apple experiment. Why the heck did I try to make 6 apples at once? Besides the fact I messed them up, what was I thinking? I live alone and I don't need 6, that's right 6 apples for myself! I could make sloppy joe's. Or steak. That's about it. Or I could microwave some leftovers from my dad's. That's cool, isn't it. (It's okay, that's sarcasm.)

3. That's WAY too much for a casual get together to get to know someone. I'm so not looking for an immediate intimacy with someone. Cooking a meal for someone seems a little too close to a defined relationship than I'm ready for. Plus, it would freak the crap out of him! (And me.) There's a good setting, yeah, right!

The best response I got was from the 60-year old married woman. She didn't so much as offer advice, but just reacted to the story. She smiled and laughed and just gave her thoughts on different parts of the story. She was especially interested in the song that THE BOY sang at karaoke. She loves this song and may be the only person at work who actually knew what the heck it was. I just realized that my taste in music is so similar to hers that it's scary.

The people who know me really well (Matt and DM), have each offered their opinions. I can handle this. I am still FREAKED OUT at the suggestion of exchanging phone numbers, even though the logical part of my brain says this would be a good idea. I just hate talking on the phone and then there's the whole, "What if he doesn't call?" factor. I don't want to worry about that. I like being able to just be frustrated with how SLOW A WEEK PASSES but I don't have to think, "He's not calling. He must hate me." Does anyone else think these thoughts, or am I just insane? I think I'm insane. As horrible as it is, there is comfort in him not knowing my phone number. Then I don't have to worry about screwing up.

I do think it would be wonderful to get to know him outside of karaoke. I would like to go to a place where pressure is minimal but I can still hear him talk. I think I'd like to go play pool. A pool hall would have alcohol if he wanted a beer and it would have music, but it's not so loud that you can't hear another person. I feel comfortable in pool halls. And it doesn't have the horrors of watching the other person eat and the set schedule of: order food, wait for food, eat food, pay bill, leave. One can play pool as long or as short as they want.

Movies are completely out of the question too. As much as I love going to movies, they are not social events. Movies are a way to escape the world for a couple of hours. One is being told a story. If you want to make a movie a social event, go to the movie with someone but have plans to do something afterwards. Then you can talk about the movie or anything else. But the talking comes AFTER the movie.

So, I don't know what to do at all. I want it to be natural so I try not to plan anything out. I know I should be more assertive or something, but I can't plan that. And this whole thing bothers the heck out of me because it's NOT LOGICAL. There is no set formula to follow. That's why I'm so HORRIBLE at it. And it's driving me insane.

On a random, funny note that somewhat ties into the topic (but only because it involves logic and THE BOY). Would a man find it strange for a woman to tell him, "I like your hair because it is organized and logical"? I know this sounds completely strange. I have a friend from high school who is a hair stylist. She's always wanting to put layers in my hair and I try to stand up to her. She tells me how much body my hair will have and all that, but I still resist. Why? Because layers look messy to me. It looks chaotic and I can't handle that on my head. It should be functional or at least symmetrical.

God, I'm insane.

Okay, I guess what I wanted to say at the beginning of this post but lost completely throughout it is that I appreciate the advice, but don't expect it to magically fit what I can do. I just need to obtain information and process it. Yes, that's going back to finding a formula, but I NEED that. I need to think the situation out myself and I appreciate input, but it comes down to it's ME that does the actions. I know I want to be a little less reserved and a little more forward, but I also can't overdo it. I need it to feel like something I decided on. I really wish THE BOY was more forward. But then, that might scare me too.

GAR! Sometimes the only answer is to talk like a pirate.

And there are no immediate answers. That's what my brain doesn't like.

I just realized that when it comes to dating and a love life, I'm so the child of my father. He's the man who had one girlfriend in his entire life and he married her. I've had more than one boyfriend and I'm not going to marry any of the past ones, but I can understand his fear of the unknown. It's not even a fear of getting hurt. It's more a fear of going outside of my bubble.

Okay, I'm shutting up now. I lost all track of what I was saying. And I'll try to focus on school or something for the next few days.

5 Comments:

At 9:00 AM, CarpeDM said...

"GAR! Sometimes the only answer is to talk like a pirate."

Well, that would be interesting.

You need to do what you need to do. I like the pool hall idea the most. Because I do know you and that would be the most comfortable and safe situation. Okay, got to go, time for work. Love ya!

At 10:28 AM, The Lioness said...

Wow wow wow!!! WOW. Now I feel terrible bcs i did say that abt exchanging phone numbers but see: a) the idea was to exchange them AFTER you'd arranged a date so you could contact each other in case something came up (like him having to work); b) if you exchange numbers, then you can call him. Now, I'm not forward myself when it comes to men, I pretty much regress and leave it almost all up to them in those initial stages (must suck to be a man, poor tings!) but this much I've learned, and I'm talking abt me only: if you have his number, you can call and see how it goes. It's not exactly being forward, which is why i sometimes CAN do it,. Maybe. And if he's not interested, he's an ass and good riddance. Again, this is just me, see a) for what I meant. I'm never open abt going out w men to the world at large, too careful for that, i figure i don't need the grief if it goes horribly wrong. But that's silly also bcs who hasn't been there? So i've been slowly coming out and hope some day to find a middle ground.

I really didn't mean to freak you out and hope it will geta more peaceful soon, whatever that entails. I really do. Hugs and kisses. (Layers would look great on you BT w your hair, and they're not messy. They're bed-messy which isn't messy at all!)(shutting up now)

At 10:29 AM, The Lioness said...

Oh, was so shocked by the phone bit I forgot to say I translated the Arnie sentence for you dahling.

At 1:21 PM, Matt said...

Beth,
Little Sister, I again would like to say I wish that I had the magic words for you, but sadly I do not. I agree with DM the pool hall idea is great, you are very comfortable there. As for the phone thing, I said enough about that the other night I really can't say anymore.I am hoping that all goes well fro you this week, and I am looking forward to Friday night and Queen time. I will talk to you later, hope you have a good night at work, take it easy.
Matt

At 3:43 PM, Firebear said...

No right or wrong answer. You are a terrific person, the comment you lift me today just was wonderful, thank you. I have no doubt you will work this out, no matter what the out come.
larry

For my Jewish friends

Happy Hanukkah! May your celebration be filled with love and joy.

1 Comments:

At 12:41 PM, The Lioness said...

Thank you Dahling!

What I'm listening to

Tonight, I created a playlist on itunes of songs I like, but don't listen to very often. One of the songs I added is by Tabitha's Secret, a band that is no longer in existence but three members of that band formed Matchbox Twenty.

The songs by Tabitha's Secret are darker than what I'm used to listening to but the songs tend to spark my curiosity. Most are slower in tempo, but the words are dark.

Dear Joan

Dear Joan, I've almost forgotten
The pane in the window, the blue dress in the doorway
Dear Joan, help me remember
The face I forget, and the traps that I've sprung

I guess I've grown tired, it's just what's expected of me
To tear your heart, from the inside to the outside
You know I was wired, I just couldn't help it
The hundred thousand times I hurt you

Chorus:
Dear Joan I wanted to say, I'm sorry for the screaming last night and the nights before
I've wanted more from this than anything I've ever known, Dear Joan

Dear Joan, your face has a brightness
That I've never seen, in the years that I've known you
Dear Joan, I'd pick up the pieces
But some scattered too far, they flew when I kicked them

I know you believed when I said it was over
You stood by me patiently, waiting and brooding
So deeply in love, with every face that I've shown

Repeat Chorus

Once I forget, twice I'm a fool
Three times I wrap my hands around your neck
While you're sleeping
So quietly sleeping
Sleeping and dreaming

Dear Joan, don't walk out the doorway
Because if you did, I believe I could honestly kill you

Repeat Chorus x2

I don't identify with the song at all. I am drawn to it in trying to understand how someone could think this and write it as a song. Sometimes I'm fascinated by what I don't understand and what feelings could cause these thoughts.

And one more song that I like the music behind the lyrics.

Paint Me Blue

There's not enough of me well, there's way too much of you
I think I saw some happy people yesterday and that'll never do
There's never too much violence, ain't it time we had a war
You leave on your shirt and I'll be skins, and we'll go flying through the door

These are violent times, and I only want to do my part
To sink to hatreds depths, and smile at what we've all become

Chorus:
I need understanding, just a pack or two
To help me with my troubles, and what to do's
I don't feel no raging, there ain't nothing new
Drop me in the ocean, and paint me blue

I don't have a worry, I don't have a care
I don't have a sound piece of mind, but I manage to fare
I don't like my neighbors, well they're just not my kind
And I think it might be all for the whales, and I really don't mind

If these are the golden years, well I think it's time to cash them in
To sit in our rocking chairs, and talk about the good old days

Repeat Chorus

These are violent times, and I only want to do my part
To sink to hatreds depths, and smile at what we've all become

Repeat Chorus

I don't know what I think of the lyrics for Paint Me Blue. I feel as if the message is poking fun at how violent the world is, yet the lyrics could go either way. It is amazing how the listener can receive a different message than the songwriter intended.

One final Tabitha's Secret song tonight. I understand this one the best of all the songs they've put out. I don't necessarily agree with it, but I understand it more. And then, maybe I understand what I want to understand about it, not what the songwriter originally meant. Oh man, now I see why English teachers make thousands of students write essays about meaning. That may be something I could have lived without ever realizing.

Dizzy

And outside, the sky is falling
People dodging raindrops, staying dry
And inside, I never gave a damn about those outside people anyway
And it hurt me, they don't even know who I am

And inside, there's no rainbows
And inside, I try I try I try, I try to clear my head
And outside, the rain is drying, and inside, I'm dying

'Cause in here, I'm staring at the rings my coffee cup has made on the table
And in here, I know I know I know, that this is as good as it gets
And in time I hope to be the one that talks about the other half
Until then, I count the cracks on the wall, until it's time to lay my head

And inside, I play with shadows
And inside, I know I know I know, that I'll feel this way all day, all day
And outside, there's hope for trying, and inside, I'm dying

You walk before me, lord knows I can't follow
You walk behind me and I don't think I can lead
You walk around me, please don't walk around me
'Cause you know how dizzy I get

Journey to the Past

It has been well documented on this site how horrible I am at dating. I have absolutely no luck with men and sometimes this reminds me of how I've gotten myself into some odd situations.

This is another story about a "date" that I went on. Leave it up to Beth to pick up random strangers.

In May of 1997, I was driving home from spending time with Harry (aka The Jerk). We were not defined as a couple yet and the definition seemed as if it would never happen. It was late, but I didn't need to be home quite yet. As I was driving home, a car pulled up next to me at a light.

The young man driving the car was fairly attractive (at least I think he was, I don't really remember, I probably wouldn't be able to identify him if I ran into him on the street). He kept looking over at me. The light turned green and we both started again on the highway. At the next light, he kept looking at me.

We did this stupid little "car flirting" at each light. He paced me on the highway.

I look back on this night as an idiotic moment in my life and I'm so glad nothing bad happened. God, I was stupid!

I pulled over and he stopped. He said, "Want to go get some food?" Figuring two things: 1) a restaurant would have lots of people so I'd be safe and 2) he can't follow me home then, I said yes and we went to Denny's. We park our cars and walk in. There are three tables in the place with people I go to high school with, so it was awkward.

It was the point when we sat down that I realized he couldn't speak any English. Well, he spoke very limited English.

That's right folks, I picked up a guy while DRIVING and managed to get one that I couldn't communicate with.

I don't remember the guy's name. I know he was from Bosnia. He asked for my number and I played it safe and gave him my pager number, thinking he'd never call it. There was absolutely no spark in the interaction.

I ate my mozzarella sticks as quickly as possible and went home.

I didn't hear from this guy for five months. By the time he paged, I was in college and on a field trip with my architecture class. My pager started going off constantly. He paged me 7 times in a row with a number I didn't recognize. He was putting the 911 code in the pages.

After class, I went back to the dorm and called the number, curious as to who the heck had been paging me repeatedly.

I asked, "Who is this?"

He said, "I so-and-so." He did give a name, but again, I can't remember it.

I said, "I don't know you."

Him: But we eat food. I sorry I made to go away but now I back in America. We go again?

Me: I don't remember you. Please don't call me again.

That was the end of my random stranger. Looking back, I feel a little bad about not wanting to go out with him again, but I didn't really know him anyway. And I learned to never pick a guy up in my car. It's just so odd. And un-Beth-like.

2 Comments:

At 10:07 AM, The Lioness said...

You DO know how to pick them, eh? (BTW, my URL has a hyphen instead of an underscore now.)

At 1:03 PM, Firebear said...

I once meet a girl when I was out on a walk, and she hit me with her car. Didn't last long, every time I saw her my leg hurt.

Time After Time

Lying in my bed
I hear the clock tick
And think of you
Caught up in circles
Confusion is nothing new

Tonight, DM and I went to karaoke at The Chalet, as usual. My big brother, Matt, joined us.

When Bryan arrived, we asked him, "Who did you think THE DATE was with?" Bryan seemed genuinely confused that it was with Pete and not THE BOY. He called it the bait and switch.

When Michael arrived, we asked him, "Who did you think THE DATE was with?" Michael was equally as confused. This goes to show how obvious it had been when DM and I were invited to go play darts with THE BOY and Pete.

Bryan shared a fact that makes the story of THE DATE even worse. Pete used to have a mullet. That's right. A mullet. Bryan explained how it was spiky on the top and beyond mid-back in the back. Oh yuck.

We were having a fantastic time and then THE BOY walked in with a different friend than Pete. Then he came over to me and asked if we had gone on Saturday night (which he seemed to know already but I think he used it to open up conversation). Then he apologized to me (and notice that he was talking with me specifically here) because he wasn't able to make it. He had to work. Which I don't quite understand, but whatever. His words and actions made it seem as if the plans had been to have the date between him and I, but life got in the way.

Pete came in a little later with a couple of women and he didn't really talk to me.

THE BOY eventually sat in a chair from our table but near Pete's table. This sounds odd, but Pete's table was right next to ours. I think he did it to be a part of our conversation but also be a part of his friend's conversation.

We did talk a little about movies and songs. He asked what was new in my life. Oh, and he said his all-time best movie is a Clint Eastwood movie, The Outlaw Josey Wales. I own that movie. Because I love Clint Eastwood (I don't care how old he gets, he's still hot!) He made it seem quite clear that the date was supposed to have happened between him and I.

Then he was up talking with Bryan about which song he was going to sing and told Bryan, "I need to change this, I was an asshole." He pointed at me when he said this last part, implying that he screwed up and he needed to make it up to me or something.

Then he sang, "We've Got Tonight" by Bob Seger. He knows I like it when he sings Bob Seger songs and this was a good one for the tone of the evening.

I get the feeling (and DM does too), that Pete was supposed to tell me that THE BOY couldn't make it. To give Pete credit, he did say something after telling me THE BOY wasn't at the other bar, but I couldn't understand it. He mumbles and looks away when talking. Plus, the music was pretty loud in the bar we were at. Maybe that's why he kept bringing up THE BOY.

Let's set the record straight about the bar fight Pete told me about. I know very little about the story and I may have gotten a few facts wrong. I'm not sure if THE BOY was actually involved in the fight or if he had just been at the bar that night playing darts. I think I'll ask one of these days if he's ever been in a bar fight.

DM and I are confused about what happened tonight. We get the impression that Pete tried to take advantage of a situation and make a move on me. When THE BOY is around, he doesn't show any interest and it is quite evident that THE BOY is interested. Since the move made on Saturday night was not met with happiness, hopefully Pete won't be a problem.

I just have to say, I have no clue what is going on. I know THE BOY made it a point to say goodbye tonight and Pete just walked out. I know THE BOY made sure that DM and I will be at The Chalet next week. I know he talked to me and was genuinely sad that he couldn't be at the other bar on Saturday night. I'm quite confused and I'm sorry to keep going on about this subject.

I know my stomach still flip-flopped when he walked in. I can say honestly I am attracted to him still and I do like him quite a bit. I want to get to know him better. I can say that it's been a long time since I've been around any man who makes me feel like I do inside. I've had crushes and all, but I haven't had a "click" in my mind about a man like this very many times. I can feel chemistry with this man. And I like the chemistry.

So I may be an idiot, but I want to see what happens. I'm confused as heck but at least I didn't really have a date with Pete, I just ended up spending time with Pete because THE BOY couldn't be there. And I think Pete's a scumbag. There's something not quite wholesome about him. Thanks for reading.

2 Comments:

At 7:35 AM, The Lioness said...

I'm very appreciative of fluttery butterflies in the tummy but THE BOY is a bloody slow mover!!! WHY oh WHY didn't he take the chance to ask you out yesterday??? WHY OH WHY??? He's so aggravating! Shy on top of evrything else? Boobv-flash him already, maybe that way he'll muster up some courage. And if you do make plans w him ever again, EXCHANGE NUMBERS FOR PITY'S SAKE! That way you'll be a) drawn closer b) able to contact each other if something happens and one can't make it. Daft enamoured people, DON'T MAKE ME GO THERE and take matters into my hands. (Actually, that's be so cool, to see all of you IRL! IMAGINE!!!)

At 11:50 AM, Firebear said...

People effect us. Some effective us deeply with out knowing why. If you play life safe, you stay away from these people. You do all you can do to avoid them because these are the people that can hurt you to your soul.Or you through caution to the wind.
I am not discounting what you fell. I am assuming you have some protective walls up after Saturday. Just be careful.

Take My Breath Away

Watching every motion in this foolish lover's game
Haunted by the notion somewhere there's a love in flames

Imagine the scene:

Two women walk into a dimly lit bar where the soft light does little to cast shadows. The music was hard, thumping and throbbing the sexy sounds of classic Rock bands like AC/DC and ZZ Top. The women stride in, laughing in anticipation of the magical filled evening awaiting to be enjoyed. They are excited because THE BOY will be there. One's stomach is flip-flopping over the possibility of seeing HIM and the other is soaking up the energy emitted by the obvious chemistry between her friend and THE BOY.

Before we dive further into the events of the evening (which I know has everyone on the seat of their chairs), we should first take a look at what brought these two women to a loud bar on a Saturday evening. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the story of our two heroines, DM and Beth.

Travel back in time with us as we review the chapters of our story. If you don't know the story, read these posts:
First Contact
THE BOY
Singing Songs (aka - He f*cking sang Beth! It's a sign! D*mmit!)
Trick or Treat
A Wink and A Smile
Playing Kneesie (thanks DM for the new word (Her quote, "There was kneezing going on!")

Now, fast forward a little to this week. I wrote the post about knocking knees and the plans for Saturday night last Sunday night/Monday morning. The plans were set, DM and I were going to meet THE BOY and his friend, Pete, at a bar for darts and pool. I spent the week on a high from the thought of getting to know THE BOY a little better and finally, Saturday arrived.

DM stayed over after the Sheepsheadians (minus one - poor Keem, she's not feeling well) had fun playing cards at Fridleykins on Friday night. We giggled and smiled big, dopey grins and made our plans to be ready to boogie after I got off of work.

I took a moment to decide what to wear and my attire for the evening included blue jeans, my favorite boots, the evil bra that enhances an area I try to not enhance, a tight pink t-shirt and a herringbone button down shirt to wear open over the t-shirt. At work, I received many compliments over the outfit. Who knew?

As the evening of work drew to an end and the beginning of what I'm now going to refer to as THE DATE grew close, I managed to touch a chair and get grease all over my hands. As I look down at my hands, finally noticing the black smears, a banker on my team says, "What's that black stuff on your face?" That's right folks, I managed to get grease on my forehead and chin. The moment of realization is the same moment that the pager goes off and I'm given an escalated call from a woman upset because she has no money.

I get cleaned up and the evening of work ends without any other incidents. I drive off into the night, like a bat out of hell, to find DM. DM has also made sure to put herself together perfectly tonight, refraining from using the deodorant as hairspray. That's right, DM almost sprayed my deodorant in her freshly warshed hair. Giggle, it's okay.

We took off in my car to the designated meeting place. That brings us to the scene of a chaotic, dark, gloomy bar.

Do the heroines walk in to find THE BOY and Pete waiting patiently?

What do you think? Of course not. That would have been too easy. And too predictable.

The heroines decide to stick it out and order a round. Can you call sodas a round? I'm not entirely sure. But I will for now.

To kill some time, DM and Beth figure that the dart boards look inviting and plug some quarters into one of them, taking turns sending the little missiles towards the circle taunting them with it's little numbers. The women are just about finished with their first game of cricket (which may have been the longest game of cricket in history - oh wait, there was the next game) when Beth looks up to see a familiar face striding over to where our heroines are playing.

When one sees a person they recognize and are waiting for, the heart will sometimes play games with the owner. It might leap, it may bound, it may beat faster. This did not happen.

Why?

Because the familiar face was not THE BOY. It was Pete. And only Pete.

Where was THE BOY you ask? Well, I have that same question. It seems that I was not going on a date with THE BOY, but with THE BOY's friend, Pete.

HOW DID I END UP ON A DATE WITH PETE? As DM put it, "Did you like run over a nun one day?" God sure has one hell of a sense of humor.

Oh Internet, if only you could see us now. DM and I have perfected the deer in the headlights look. The "What -?" "Wasn't he?" "Huh?" "What the hell happened!?!" look.

DM has a theory that THE BOY was actually attacked by Pete and may still be tied up in the back of a pick-up truck somewhere.

There was a point in my life where I considered myself a reasonably intelligent woman. Then I seemed to be tricked in going on a date with Pete who I could define as having the character of a pillow. Not a cool pillow. No, just a plain, neutral colored throw pillow that you don't care about. One that someone you don't remember may have vomited on in the past. To give you an idea of how unremarkable this man is, DM and I had to remind ourselves several times tonight that his name is not actually Pete. We keep forgetting his real name.

Who wants highlights? Believe me, as much as the evening was dumbfounding, it was humorous.

Associates

When Pete comes over, he sees a nice looking man at the table next to us. The man and Pete exchange hellos, shaking hands and smiling at each other. A few moments later, Pete says to me, "You see that black man there?" I nod and he continues, "Yeah, I'm surprised to see him here again after we got into a fight over darts."

What? "A fight? Like a bar fight or just yelling at each other?" Why did I ask for clarification?

"THE BOY and I took him into the parking lot and beat him up. You know my friend, THE BOY?"

I have a blank look on my face. I'll be completely honest in saying that THE BOY lost mucho points because of this little story.

Later, in relaying this part of the evening to DM, she exclaimed, "But! They SHOOK hands!"

Internal commentary: If someone has taken me outside and beaten the crap out of me, I don't think my instinct would be to smile and shake hands with the asshole.

You know my friend, THE BOY?

To start at least 7 topics of conversation, Pete said to me, "You know THE BOY, my friend?" Did he need to ask??? Um, hello! That's who I thought I was going on a date with. Pete was there when THE BOY and I gazed into each other's eyes for 2 1/2 hours last Sunday. Of course I know THE BOY.

DM has a theory. She thinks that Pete's mind has convinced him that if he keeps mentioning THE BOY, I might think that Pete is THE BOY. I think Pete had a lobotomy at some point in his life. Although her theory goes a long way to describe why Pete wanted THE BOY to sing Jessie's Girl last Sunday at karaoke (Actually, when you think of it, DM has a lot of theories. She may actually believe in every conspiracy theory ever theorized).

Define Friendship

Pete has a classy way of discussing how much he adores his friends. I do have to give him credit, what he lacks in creativity he makes up in loyalty to the one two syllable word he seems to know. Every friend that Pete (I want to change his name to Pepe but that just might confuse DM and me even more) mentions is an "asshole."

Case in point. When Pete arrives late, he explains that he had been at the bar next door with his friends. They were supposed to tell him when it was midnight. He told me, "All my friends are assholes. Do you know THE BOY, my friend? He wasn't there."

The man standing at the bar was an asshole. Pete explained why. His quote (as much as I could understand in the drunken slur and loud music covering it up) was, "I was pissin' and he gave me the shoulder."

Um, what does that mean!?! I don't know. Maybe Matt could explain what the heck that means, since I'm sure he's used a urinal at least once. (Seriously folks, check out this link! It's soooooooooo worth it!)

OMG! OMG! I just had an apostrophe! (Yes, I used that word on purpose.) I think I realized what the shoulder is. For those guys out there, is this when a man is using the urinal and another man is using the adjacent urinal and bumps shoulders with you whilst you are relieving yourself? That's just so horrible and makes me glad to have to sit down when I pee.

I'm going to the bathroom

Before he came back to tell me that the tall guy "gave him the shoulder", he announced to me that he was going to use the bathroom. He leaned in (oh God, no!) and said, "If any of these guys hit on you ladies while I'm gone, you let me know."

And? Maybe I'll be thrilled. Because I'm so not into you! Hello!!! Are you blind? Did you have your head run over as a small child?

While Pete was in the restroom, another man approached our table and I realized why he looked familiar. Was he THE BOY? No. Sorry. I hate to disappoint, but THE BOY never made an appearance, other than to be brought up repeatedly by Pete. No, this man was familiar from a red shirt night at The Chalet. He's the one who likes to bathe in beer. I found out his name tonight. I guess it's Guru. (Okay, I can think of two male names that start with G. The name of this man and George. But I like George, so I won't taint the name by using it.) Luckily, Guru leaves quickly after Pete comes back and Pete lets me know, "He's an asshole." Who knew?

Music is in the Air

There is a jukebox in this bar and people were feeding it regularly this evening. I have no clue if this is normal for this place, Pete seemed surprised to see a popular bar filled with people at midnight on a Saturday evening. He seemed to think this was an unusual time of week for young (and not-so-young) adults to spend outside of the home. As I said before, he's a sharp one, that Pete.

I was enjoying the tunes of AC/DC and ZZ Top (bringing back fun memories of Bugs, there was a time when I had fun there) when Pete felt the need to talk about music. Give him credit, at least he realized that DM and I go to karaoke and like music. But then, I've never met anyone who has ever actually said, "I don't like music." It's always more specific. Like, "I don't like country music" or a type of genre or singer. Pete asked me if I liked the music playing. It was some song I'd never heard and I told him it was okay, but I like older rock. Then Steve Miller's "The Joker" came on.

This is the song with the line, "I really love your peaches, I want to shake your tree." He told me, "I bet this is your song." What he didn't seem to notice was the utter look of pain on my face from being subjected to this song 8-15 times a night during my nights at Bugs. I hate, I repeat, I HATE this song. It is evil.

Pete finally notices my disdain for "The Joker" and says, "I don't know if they've got any slow songs in there. Maybe there's some good ones."

Oh no. Oh HELL no. There is no way I am ever going to slow dance with Pete. I may amend my pledge to never give an enema to my friends. In fact, I think I would rather administer an enema to DM, Matt, or Keem before I would slow dance with Pete. And I don't want to give an enema to my friends. Do you get my point here? I hope so. I'm not going to toe around a dance floor with Pete. He's so not THE BOY (who I'm not sure if THE BOY actually got into a bar fight or not. Why would one shake hands and smile at the person who supposedly kicked his butt in the parking lot? That's just crack smoking.)

Beverages

When Pete arrived, DM and I were playing darts drinking our usual beverage choices. I had my Coke and DM had her Diet Coke with a slice of lime (unfulfilling when not poured by the manly hands of Bobby). Pete has asked me at least 4 times at the Chalet what I was drinking. Each and every time I've answered Coke. There is no other nectar of the gods. And tonight, he asked me again.

He followed this up with, "Wanna beer?"

Um, let's see. I've told you I don't drink alcohol because I don't like the person I become when I drink. Granted, I get "friendly" and that may be what Pete was looking for, but NO WAY IN HELL!!!

I told him a firm no that was accompanied by a look of utter disgust. I don't like beer. I don't like the taste of any alcohol in fact. The only drink I've ever really liked are hurricanes and that's because they taste like fruit punch. And I'll avoid anything fruit punch tasting for quite some time after the Wopatui party. Thank you very much.

Attempting to obtain priviledged information

Well, maybe the information is not top secret or anything, but Pete tried to get me to open up about my life. I guess this is a normal date thing to do WHEN YOU'RE ON A DATE WITH SOMEONE YOU PLANNED ON GOING OUT WITH!!! He asked me about work. I told him it was boring. Then he said, "So you sell phones." It wasn't even a question. It was a statement, matter of fact. I had told him, prior to the statement of idiocy, that I work at a bank in a call center. What makes him think I sell phones? Seriously, the lobotomy theory is starting to look realistic.

Pete asked me, "What bars do you go to?"

Let's see here. I told you I don't drink. DM doesn't drink. You know this. Every time you bring up a bar, I look at you blankly and state I've never been there. I go to one bar. That's The Chalet. And that's because Bryan sings. Is Pete really that dense or am I just being harsh? Well, screw him (wait a minute, please don't. I don't want that image.) He harshed my buzz by showing up THE BOY-free.

Pete asked me if I wanted to go to the bar next door that is more of a club than a bar. I declined. I am not a clubbin' girl. I tried that scene by going to the gay bars with Adam for awhile, but that's another story.

Pete tried a different approach to get me to go to the club next door. I laughed, holding back the gales of snorts that wanted to come out when he said this next phrase.

"You're the best lookin' girl there."

What? I need to know what this means. Does it mean:
A) The girls next door have bigger red zits in the middle of their faces that are bigger than the one residing on my face.
B) The girls next door have roots longer than mine (I really need to do something with this color)
C) The girls next door have smaller tits than I do

I'm thinking it might be C.

I really wanted to reply, "But I'm not there. I'm here." I couldn't get it out over the uncontrollable fit of laughter though. Darn.

DM

At one point, Pete said something to DM that seemed longer than three words. I asked her what he said.
DM: I can't hear anything.
B: How can you hear me?
DM: I don't know. That's odd.
B: It must be telepathy. Guess what I'm thinking right now.

It doesn't take telepathy to guess what I was thinking. If you don't know by now, you haven't been reading. I was thinking, HOW DID I END UP ON A DATE WITH PETE? What did I do to deserve this bad karma?

The Game

We did play a partial game of cricket with Pete. It was the longest dart game of my life. It wouldn't end. Evil! Evil, I say! He used my darts and that was fine. They're darts. They're meant to be thrown at a wall. It's just it took a long time to play and I wanted out. Also, I found it rather strange when he kept blowing on the darts for luck. It's not like it's Vegas. And you're so not that cool.

He kept doing the "bumping" thing. It's when a guy holds out a fist and bumps it against another person's fist. Why he does this, I don't know. But it got really old and really annoying really fast.

Twins

Pete explained to me that someone had stolen his baseball cap while he was next door at the other bar. I didn't know he had a baseball cap, so I don't know why he needed to tell me all about it. He said, "Someone stole my baseball cap, that's why I look like crap." Dude, a cap wouldn't help. Come to Jesus and accept the light, okay? Stop fooling yourself.

The End of the Affair or Why DM is the Greatest Friend on Earth

The evening ended abruptly when DM had a moment of revelation and found the exit to our disastrous evening. I love her.

Thank you to the drama teacher DM had in high school.

What did she do? Well, she took her breath away and helped take us away from Pete. DM faked an asthma attack. We were able to tell Pete that we had to get her to her apartment for her inhaler or I would have to take her to the hospital.

We escaped. Pete felt the need to walk us to the car and then stood outside waving goodbye with a big smile on his face. I politely waved and once out of sight, DM and I started our three hour long laughter fit and our questioning, "HOW DID I END UP ON A DATE WITH PETE?" vants.

The thing is, Pete is the one who mentioned going out. But he did it after confirming with THE BOY and THE BOY followed it up by looking me in the eye saying, "That would be great!" And Pete's invitation was phrased as, "Would you ladies like to join US next Saturday night?" Who is US if THE BOY wasn't there? Does Pete have multiple personalities? If he does, couldn't he use one that actually has a personality?

Don't get me wrong, Pete's not bad looking or anything, he's just not someone I'm interested in at all. There's no sparkle in his eye, no charisma, no character. I like a guy who's funny and intelligent. And who doesn't mind making a fool of himself.

At least he didn't have a miner's light strapped to his forehead. There may be hope for my future dating life yet.

5 Comments:

At 7:38 AM, CarpeDM said...

As I'm reading this, you just screamed out the question you've been asking yourself (and me and our two favorite waitresses at Fridleykins) all night "HOW DID I END UP ON A DATE WITH (insert Pete's real name here)?" And I looked at you blankly and said "Who?" And then said "Oh. Yeah. Pete."

This has seriously been the weirdest evening I have ever been a part of.

You know what this means, right? We're so going to have to get to karaoke early and explain to Bryan and Michael that when Pete mentions my asthma attack, they should look sincerely concerned for my health. And not burst out laughing like I know they will want to...because that would be just wrong.

Questions that will remain unanswered:

So, when you and Pete get married, do you think THE BOY will finally sing "Jessie's Girl?"

Do you think THE BOY has finally broken free of his bonds? Because seriously, Pete had to have sucker punched him. Just to spend some quality time with "the ladies."

And what was with the creepy dude at the pool hall? Did you notice him giving you the eye all night? I think you kind of scared him off with the occasional screams of "How the hell did I end up on a date with Pete?"

Why don't we have any church going friends so we can call them and have them intervene with God for us? Because He must be seriously ticked off with us for something.

WORST DATE EVER!

At 10:46 AM, The Lioness said...

This was a nightmare, I feel defrauded, can't imagine what YOU feel! HORROR!!! IAIKS. Bloody hell, how did this happen? And theis THE BOY is beginning to lose some of his attractiveness, beating up people, being friends with a git, saying he'd come and then not showing, oy. DISGRACEFUL!!! I'm v annoyed at TB. VERY.

At 12:01 PM, Matt said...

Little Sister,
I am not all that impressed with THE BOY right now, really not. I can't imagine why he would not want to be there to get to know you, other than the fact that DM might be right and he was restrained in some way. Either by Peg Leg Pete, or possibly Zorak went mental and confined him to her lair. I, like the Lioness, feel defrauded and am angry with TB.

Now as for the whole beating people up thing, in some way I feel as if Pete was trying to make TB not look so good to you. It screamed to me "my friend-you know the asshole-is truly an asshole. Yes I know that everyone I mention is an asshole, but this is why TB is such an asshole...". Pete may not be the brightest bulb on the tree come christmas time, but that does not mean that he is blind and could not see the look of utter disappointment when TB was not there.

I do not think that you ran over a nun at some point in your life, however that was amusing. Just to think of the poor habit wearing person trying to outrun a car in her skirts....priceless.

As for the "shoulder", I don't know. I know that I come very close to being the person in our circle of firends that seems to be the expert on urinals, but I don't know what the shoulder is. I at first thought that he meant he was annoying the person so much at the urinal because he was, oh I don't know, talking while he was peeing, that the person pissed on his shoulder. Because believe me, when you are trying to use the urinal, or even the stall so that you are not a target for Chatty Cathy's in the bathroom, and someone decides to talk to you while you pee, I could see myself getting so angry that I might pee on their shoulder.

The whole shaking hands with someone that you had the beat the hell out of? Well, first of all, only if you were in the ring with someone and it was a sanctioned sporting event does this ever happen. Otherwise the victim of the beating, well they tend to stay away from the place of the crime, unless they are bringing back "some of their boys with lead pipes and are planning on gettin' midevil" on the ass of the person that beat them. So here I think that Ol' Shifty-Eye Petey was trying to make himself look more manly.

Maybe you could answer this for me, I do not know why it is that men seem to think that the more macho they are, the more women they will have around them. Because if I am wrong, and we know that that hardly happens (to interject here: Yes that was sarcasam, to prove my point I will just type this: World's First Bigfoot Hooker Tells All) but listening, actually listening, to a woman is what seems to be the biggest attraction point around. EWho cares how many people have been beaten up by your hands? Who cares if you can pee farther than anyone else around? Who cares if you have more hair on your abck than a grizzly? Get over yourself and stop wasting the time of someone that has better things to do then worship you, you lower form of scum life.

I am sorry that the night was not what you wanted, but I am glad to hear the night was ended in laughter, and that DM channeld her drama teacher and faked an asthma attack. Kudos to her for that performance, I am sure it was Oscar worthy.

Hopefully I will be there tonight, I am not sure if I can make it or not, I have not been to karoke for some time, and I might sound like shit (which I normally do anyway) when I get up to sing. I will see if I can make it tonight......

Hope you have a good day today, feel free to call whenever you want, you know that.

Your Big Brother,
Matt

P.S. Yes I had to stop myself from swearing quite a bit on this comnment, and yes I had to restrain myself from becoming a monstrous big brother and breaking and throwing things because of the anger that I have at Pete and THE BOY. Which, coincedentelly (?) seems to be a fitting name for someone that wants to act the way he did, and seems to act with Pete, if those stories are true.
Matt

At 11:38 AM, Firebear said...

I was worried about this. For some reason the way you described it gave me a bad feeling.

This pisses my off. Boys like this cause problems. Making it hard for an actual adult to get a date. Stupid games, bait and switch, I never played them and real men do not. Even though I don't, because other people like to play games, I am suspect. That because everyone does it, I must do it too. Do not let these idiots get to you.

What you have is Pete, too shy to ask you out, and the boy, who figured he could help a buddy and devert your attention to Pete.

At least you have a good friend like DM there.

One other thing, the peeing standing up thing is just much easier then the sitting. Whip it out, boom, you are done. I was at a bar one night and my friend was complaining about the long wait in the ladies room. I told her, they need a troth, like what we have in the mens room. Makes everything quicker!

Hugs!

At 2:34 PM, srmc said...

All I can say is OH MY GOD!!!!!!!

In progress

Just a quick note, the post about what happened tonight is being written. I'm trying to find the right words to describe the evening and I doubt anyone who is waiting for the news will find it this early in the morning, but don't worry. I'm going to share with the world what happened.

I think I broke Moron Mouth

Okay. I don't know if anyone else noticed this, but Out of the Mouths of Morons seems broken. I swear, I didn't do anything to it. Well, all I did was post an escalated call last weekend. DM - please fix. Please. You know so much more about this stuff than I do.

**Update: I tried Moron Mouth two minutes after I posted this and now it seems to work. It's beyond me. No clue. None, what-so-ever!

That aside, everyone reading, be sure to check out DM's new post, "D'Oh! A Deer!" It's fantastic! She is so worthy of praise for this one. I laughed hysterically, alone in my apartment. I was procrastinating since school started again (one week break for Thanksgiving).

Update about my sickly state. I'm feeling better, my temperature is closer to normal. When I did the original post, my temperature was 99.8. It did end up going up to 102.0, but then went back down. I hope this cough goes away by Saturday night, but it is now down the minor irritation. And I hope DM gets better quickly!!! Dana, if you're reading this on your day off, I hope you are also getting plenty of rest, drinking lots of fluids (preferably with vitamin C in them), eating warm chicken soup, and taking hot showers/baths to help sweat out the germs. Feel better and I can't wait 'til the queens come out to play at Fridleykins. (Oh yeah, Adam and Rich might join us. Don't ask. I don't know.)

On a gaming related note (see Donovan's blog, he's been posting recently about playing computer games), I've become addicted to this dopey game on AOL (through Pogo). It's called Phlinx. You aim little stones at other suspended stones to break them apart and make large clusters fall. On the expert level, you can get around 1,200 points per round. To explain how addicted I've become, I now have 209,794 points. I don't know what the points mean, nor do I care. I just like the game. But the creators tried to be clever and gave the rooms names. It has an Egyptian theme, so of course the names are corny puns. I was in one room (the game puts you into one) called, "Who moved my nose?" There are other horrors such as: "Eek! Scarabs!" and "You Old Giza." Oh yeah, and "Th-ankhs for the Memories" and "Tomb it May Concern." It makes me groan. But I'm still addicted.

That's all for now. Good night.

3 Comments:

At 3:05 PM, CarpeDM said...

I am glad you are feeling better. That is very exciting. Or I should say that your fever is disappearing.

My throat hurts, I'm sure I was snoring a lot last night without being able to breathe through my nose. Karaoke on Sunday is going to be interesting.

At 6:51 PM, The Lioness said...

What, why are you sick as well??? Stop the snogging!

At 6:55 PM, The Lioness said...

You'll never believe this but prior comment was posted by Cat - not tripod, the otehr one - walking over me and keyboard. Anyway, FINISHING: hope you feel better. OTOH, after the date from hell, you might just need to relapse.

As defined by a piece of metal...

After a huge fiasco at the car dealership (maybe a post in its own right and written when I'm not still royally pissed off), my new car finally has license plates.

Like pretty jewels, the gleaming pieces of metal are now attached to the front and rear bumpers. The car is feeling special and frisky. And believe me, frisky is a good word to describe this machine once you read on.

In Minnesota, the plates consist of three letters and three numbers.* The letters may be first or the numbers may be. That doesn't really matter, but it is common for people to find words to fit their letters or phrases to identify the 17,576 possible combinations of letters. For example, Foxy had DBM as the letters. DM would refer to this as, "Dirty Blonde Men."

Adam's (my former roommate) car has CRP, which keeps being defined as "crap." His car is not crap, but it fits better than carp. Who thinks of fish first? His boyfriend's vehicle has JSM as the three letters. This also brings to mind a certain bodily substance. Yes, I know it's bad.

This brings me to my new car. I can't help but cringe each and every time I see the letters.

What letters are they? I'm so glad you asked, since I'm going to tell you. Read on if you want. Be warned, my first thought was not as clean as crap and I'm having a difficult time coming up with anything other than my first thought.

The letters are: NMP. My brain keeps adding a Y in between the N and M and adding a HO to the end. This is so untrue. I don't have that exciting of a life.

And I'll probably have these plates for the entire life of the car.

Yikes!

---

* Unless you pay for personalized license plates, defining how much of a yuppie you truly are. Oops, that's just my personal opinion.

2 Comments:

At 6:24 PM, CarpeDM said...

Okay, when I get my El Camino, I am so having a personalized license plate. And I certainly don't consider myself a yuppy.

I am trying to think of a good way to think of your car now. It is not helping that you put your first thought in this post because now that is my first thought and I so wouldn't have gone there.

Nasty Male People? Naughty Minotaurs Playing? Nerds Mean Power? Considering what you told your cousin, he's either going to work for a nerd or be unemployed, this might actually work. I kind of like it. I am afraid I might start referring to your car as the Nerdmobile. Stop me now!

At 2:45 AM, brooksba said...

DM,

You best not be calling my car the Nerdmobile. No way. No.

I don't really like phrases though. I like quick words. I need something! Eke!

What would your plates say? Why would you need them to be personalized? It's your car anyway.

The only great personalized plate I can remember is the one for a Mercedes-Benz saying, "WAS HIS".