You like tea + I like tea = soulmates

Some guy seriously wrote that to me on match.com. Another guy told me all about how excited he is over the massive chemsitry research book he got for Christmas. I don't mind nerdy guys, but really? Why does on-line dating suck so bad?

Moving on.

I think I've really connected with someone (no thanks to Match).

You know that feeling when you hear a song and for some reason or another it just hits you and you think "Where have I heard this before?" even though you know you've never heard it in your life?

That's where I am.

If that sounds confusing, it's because it is.

I cried today.

I was reading something that this guy sent me (a type of modern-day letter-writing via the ever romantic facebook message) and I was smiling and then all of a sudden I was crying. I am NOT a crier. I certainly don't usually cry whilst checking my facebook. It was just....the absolute best thing that has ever been written to me. By anyone. Ever.

This person barely knows me. He has never even held my face in his hands. What about the ex who was "so sure" we should get married? What about Shawn? Where were these words in feasible situations? It made me so happy and sad and downright pissed off that someone felt I deserved those words and that this someone has to be so far away. Too far away.

(Note: It wasn't mushy or anything--we all know I wouldn't be into that--but incredibly articulate, and thought-out and....ugh...just too awesome for the likes of me)

Balls.

Speaking of balls, I am looking forward to spending my New Year's Eve in KC with my boys. We are heading to The Uptown Theater for an open bar and a rip-roarin' good time.

Although I think I may have accidentally acquired a date. And not a buddy-date, a real one.

There's this guy I met over the summer who goes to grad school for photography in Texas and is stuck in KS for the holidays like me. We bonded because he used to work in Cincinnati and I, of course, live in Cinci. He was the one who introduced me to my Tour Guide. Anyway, he didn't have anything to do for New Year's Eve so I invited him to come along with us. I didn't think he would, because it involved some considerable driving on his part, but he seems psyched to go. My friend Essay pointed out that I'm so used to being one of the guys that I forget that guys sometimes take you inviting them to things the wrong way.....Meh, he seems like a cool guy, and the minute he see's how I am with Essay and Bo, he'll get the gist of the evening..... Hopefully. Man, did I create a fiasco? (I am the Master and Commander of Fiascoes) Either way I guess it will be an interesting night. (I'm a big girl, I can handle it)

My dear friend Janet (who is like a second mom to me) took me out for a girls day today that included a manicure, shopping, going to see Black Swan (good movie), and a fantastic dinner complete with mojitos, lemon-drop martinis and calamari. It. Was. Awesome. I could not have asked for a better day.

This New Year is really looking up, and I have to smile in spite of myself.

That is, when I'm not crying like a giant baby.

On-line dating

I am one of the more recent members of Match.com

I never thought I'd be one to join an on-line dating site. It's the real deal though, it's also a bit expensive, so you know people are serious.

But really, I like the idea of one day just magically running into someone and that someone turns out to really BE someone. But in the real world, it's not so magical. I run into crushes at the laund-ro-mat when I'm wearing my yoga pants without underwear because none are clean. I run into a cute guy at the grocery store when I've been working on a project for 48 hours and haven't brushed my teeth in just as long.....And the list goes on...Believe you me, I'm a girl who tries to keep up appearances, but does anyone ever see me when I've just come from the salon and had a great blow-out? NO! And it ALWAYS rains when I fix my hair, so much so I might as well become a meteorologist because I can predict a storm better than any radar!

With this experience, I decided that some things shouldn't be left to chance.

So far...meh.

A couple guys asked me for my phone number right off the bat and I politely declined for safety reasons and because I don't keep up with my phone anyway. I love the idea of seduction via the written word. So many people rush into things, but there is nothing wrong with witty banter and building a re pore with someone. There is one guy I'm kind of hitting it off with, but we'll see.

The problem with on-line dating, for me, is that I am extremely photogenic. I am not being conceited, the camera just likes me. In my opinion, I look waaaay better in pictures than real life. This can be a problem, because they see this beautiful profile pic, and the real me is considerably less than expected. This has happened to me before, I believe, although no one has outright said it. No matter how hard I try to show even the not-so-great but not horrifying pics, I always seem to be a bit of a let-down. You can see it on their faces when you open the door.

A friend of a friend recently contacted me via FB and told me I was very pretty. I knew it was my photogenic curse striking again. He wants to meet me, but luckily he lives far away, so I don't have to disappoint him. Especially because he seems, well....wonderful. He's funny and smart, and tall, dark and handsome. And after he chatted with me a bit via FB chat he left me with a "later gator." That's what I always do! It was just...almost like magically meeting someone...but not. I imagine that's what my on-line dating experience is supposed to feel like, but doesn't. It feels more like groping around in the dark for an elusive light switch.

Oh cruel fates! Why must I be so deceivingly pretty in pictures?! It isn't fair.

Is it too much to dream of a guy who says "you're even prettier in person"?

Probably.

"Faithful friends who are dear to us..."

"Will be near to us once more."
--Meet Me in St. Louis

Nothing is better than old friends.

I went back to the town where I attended undergrad this week to catch up with some pals.

Instantly it is like we were never apart. We are back to laughing and joking in no time.

Joel, my most wonderful guy friend, and I are sitting around his apartment making dinner and watching Seinfeld just like old times when I ask if I can invite some people to eat with us.

"Oh, then I'd have to clean!" he replies.
"No you wouldn't the place looks fine."
"I don't want them to see it like this."
"You let ME see it!"
"You're different, you're family."

I said nothing, because I thought I might cry then and there. That is one of the most beautiful things anyone has ever said to me.

My friends Em and Jen commented on how cute we are together.

"Why don't you two just get married?" Jen asked.
"They've never been like that. They are seriously just friends." Em informed her.
"Really?! Never?"
"Nope. Just best friends." I confirm.

I explain we have that whole "been together forever, super-adorable" thing down, but that whole "young love, sexual-attraction" thing just isn't there. If we were 85 it'd be perfect, but, luckily for me (no sarcasm), instead of a boyfriend I get family. The good ones are always my best buddies, but oh well, that means I get to keep them all forever.

As I hug my undergrad friends and professors good-bye I don't feel sad, because I don't have to worry about losing people who are always in my heart.

After that I attend a dinner with my Ma and her friends, aka my second family.

The air is so thick with love it is palpable. There are hugs, cocktails, and chocolate a-plenty with this group. We share our stories, we toast our achievements big and small, and the dining hall rings with our laughter.

Two of the younger girls are talking about being in love, and all of the Mom's are reminiscing about their first loves. One says, "You know, when you find the one, you just know."

I chime in with, "Yeah, that's how I felt when I found theater." Laughter ensues.

But on the way home my Ma and I discuss how true that statement is:

I always call theater my abusive boyfriend because he knocks me down and takes all my energy but I just keep going back, because I love him, and I can't leave him. When it comes down to it I've been with theater longer than anyone.

This holiday season is the time for old friends. And I am blessed with so many who care about me so much I don't know how I managed to deserve it.

Sometimes I wonder why I try so hard to find love when it's right here in front of me.

"Through the years we all will be together
If the fates allow
Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow.
So have yourself, a merry littl Christmas now."
--Meet Me in St. Louis

Religious Experience

Three months in Cincinnati and nary a straight man in sight.

I guess that's what you get when you go to a conservatory and live in the trendy neighborhood. CCM has me programmed to think "Gay until proven straight" at this point.

Except sometimes I forget.

I recently attended the Theatrical Design and Production (TD&P) Holiday Dinner at a friend's house. The most raucous family feast I have ever been to, complete with flying silverware and correographed dance routines.

The cutest boy in all of TD&P approached me. I had noticed him in the halls before, and he was the Master Electrician on Evita (electrician's are manly, right?).

"Your face looks familiar, are you a new grad?" He asked.
Conversation ensues.

Oh my gosh, I can't believe this guy has noticed me.

And that's when a Mariah Carey song came on.

"Oh my god, I Fucking LOVE this song!" he practically squealed.

GAY!

I asked around just to make sure, and I was right. Such is my life.

And all the straight ones are coupled up.

Went to a housewarming party for one of my favorite make-up shop grads and there was a cute, smart, scientist guy there....with his girlfriend.....who is also a scientist. He studies smallpox and she studies cancer.

Lame.

I went to church today. For the first time in years. My roommates all go there and I was skeptical at first, but it is a really loving, open-minded environment. It was actually really nice.

Also I was hoping to meet some nice people (let's face it, most artists, particularly theater artists, can be a bit on the snarky side).

Specifically nice guys.

Because it seems next to impossible to find a guy with good, old-fashioned manners these days. Believe you me, I never thought I'd be man-hunting in a house of God, but prayer just doesn't seem to be enough these days.

And there he was. He was wearing Italian-style dress shoes, a sweater-vest and tie combo, with a TWEED blazer. AND he had a beard. AND curly hair.

Oh, man! I thought, Why didn't I wear a dress!? At least I wore my cute riding boots, that has to count for something....

And then I thought: Wait a minute. Impeccable dresser? Probably gay.

Just when I thought all hope was lost, the heaven's opened up and smiled upon me as I realized: I'm in an ANGLICAN CHURCH which means, odds are he's STRAIGHT!

Thank you, Jesus.

We didn't talk, but I heard he's shy, so I look forward to attending church again.

And did I mention his last name is "Knight"? He could literally be my "Knight" in shining patent leather dress shoes!

Can I get an "Amen"!?

Everything will have to wait until after the Holidays, because on Saturday I'm shipping out to good ole Kansas for a 3-week visit. I can't wait to see all my friends and family!

And I'll come back to Cinci with me a lot of love and hope for a happy New Year packed in my suitcase.

Sometimes all you need is a little faith.

Out of the blackness

Show week is FINALLY over. I have been wearing all black for a solid week and it is depressing. Also, show week is incredibly exhausting. Yeah, yeah, you all think you know what a busy week is like, but until you're at the school 16 hours a day and you consider an 8-hour day a "half-day" you don't know jack.

Evita was worth every minute.

Wow, this school is amazing. The people here are so talented and the production value is the best I have EVER seen for a college. WOW....just...wow.

Unfortunately my social life has been tossed aside this month, consumed by this monstrosity we call theater.

I did, however, get a bit of a "show crush."

The guy playing Peron seemed normal and very nice when I first met him, but I didn't think twice about him....Until he started to sing.

I COULD NOT get over it.

I felt like I was talking to a celebrity every time I spoke to him, and so of course, I was too awkward to be at all charming.

I got to powder his face at intermission. We're officially facebook friends. Swoon.

I think the crush will probably fade with my memory of this beast of a show and all it's hellacious quick changes.

But it was fun while it lasted.

And tonight Tour Guide texted me. He wants to hang out this week.

And here I am with nothing to do.

He offered me a possible gig doing make-up for a vampire movie.

Perfect timing.

The Boys that will NEVER love you

Some boys will never love you. There's no telling why or why not. It's probably not you, it's them...No it's you, but no matter what you do, it won't change anything. Even if you:

Listen to only indie music
Watch foreign films
Scour ESPN for football stats
Rock at improv
Lose 10 pounds
Lose 15 pounds
Put out
Dye your hair
Get a new shirt
Become a vegetarian
Take up cynicism
Read all the right books
Win an award
Hit on him when you're drunk
Makeout with him
Give it time
Buy him stuff
Invent a life together in your head
Are the BEST PERSON EVER

He WILL NOT LOVE YOU.

EVER.

That's just the way it works. There are a few guys I could name (but won't) who will never love me, and I just have to remind myself that that's okay, because there is NOTHING I can do about it.

And when the right one comes along, I won't have to try so hard, because he won't care about that list up there....he'll just care about me.

So don't waste your time trying to be all that you're not meant to be. If they don't like you now, they won't like you because you forced yourself to enjoy the WWE Smackdown.

Their loss.



Right?

Reader Beware

You're in for a SCARE!

Oh, the old Goosebumps book series slogan....those were the days.

The days when I wasn't making a total fool of myself.

So you know how my last post was all about how much I love my life? Well, I decided to imbibe copious amounts of alchohol in celebration of that and it wasn't pretty.

It was a Halloween Party, and yeah, you're allowed a little craziness, but I am TOO OLD for these shenanigans.

There I was, playing beer pong, flirting with two dudes in Star Trek costumes (I know, right?) and then all of a sudden....WHAMMY! I'm not drunk, I'm wasted.

It really snuck up on me.

I had been talking to the guy in the blue Star Trek shirt all night, we'll call him Blue, not because I'm trying to disguise his name, because that's what I called him all night and I don't even KNOW his name. Anyway, I think we were hitting it off but then I go and blow it.

Apparently at one point in the night I was looking for a chair and I plopped down on him like an old sofa. Not in cute, flirty way, in the most uncomfortable, drunken way possible.

Why do I always shoot myself in the foot?

Just when I think I have it together I have to go off and prove I at least USED to be a mess.

Who was I kidding with this new and improved Tricia? Sometimes I wonder if I'm really that person or just pretending.

I FELL ASLEEP standing up at the party.

Ugh. I was very, very, I mean I-think-I'm-going-to-die sick on Sunday.

That's it. I'm not 21 anymore. It's time I started acting my age.

Why does 24-year-old Tricia feel so LAME, though?

Or, even worse, like a sad spinster?

Luckily my friends drove me home and I didn't make out with anyone.

Small blessings, I guess.

This Halloween was truly terrifying.

The Love of a Lifetime

I'm in love....with a coat.

I found it today, but it feels like I've finally found what I've been searching for all my life: A vintage Burberry coat. And it only cost $7.50 with my student discount (heaven forbid I pay the full price of $9.99!). Oh sweet Jesus, I've found the one! I'm so happy. I seriously almost peed myself when I found it. My heart skipped a beat, and I was shaking.

I guess if I can't find love in men, I can always find it in fashion.

And makeup.

I LOVE it here. I just got home from a Halloween party at my professor's house that was so fun, we watched "Hocus Pocus" and "Edward Scissorhands" in the shop on Friday, and I got to do monster and gore makeup for a haunted house and then go through the haunted house for free! Tomorrow I'm going to a charity benefit cabaret.

My life, for the first time, is EXACTLY how I always wanted it to be. I'm living for wigs and makeup; there's all the art and culture I could ask for (art museum last weekend, plays during the week, etc.), I can walk everywhere, I live in an old house in a trendy neighborhood, and I'm reading good books all the time. I'm exactly who I want to be. I make my bed everyday, I drink coffee, I do dishes (RIGHT after I eat), I keep my room clean, I don't procrastinate as much, I eat healthy.....EVERYTHING is just....right.

I'm just missing that ONE thing.

But you know what? I DON'T CARE.

I am so in love with my life right now, I feel like I almost have to settle into it, get past the honeymoon stage, before I can let someone else into it.

Because I have everything I need, what more can you want?

I hope everyone gets to be their purest, truest self that they always dreamed they could be once in their life, to feel this feeling. It's great, this love affair with life.

P.S. Tour Guide has gone back to being completely uninterested in me. Whatevs.

No change of heart, a change in me

I went over to Tour Guide's house to pick him up for what was sure to be another awkward night out. I showed up early in the hopes of talking to his roommate, Perfect Boy. TG opened the door, and he actually looked really nice, not as homeless as usual, things were looking up.

Jengo, the great big dog, greated me enthusiastically. I seriously love that dog. Then emerged Perfect Boy with a load of laundry looking positively dapper.

We got to talking.

"Do you want to go out with us tonight?" Me
"No, I'm going to Fries tonight" Perfect Boy
"Why are you going there?" TG
"I'm meeting that girl." PB

OUCH.

"Oh, the one you went out with earlier?" TG


Double OUCH.


"Yeah, we went to a matinee of the latest show at the Playhouse, and she asked what I was doing tonight, so I guess the date went well." PB

Man, that STINGS.

I smile, "Oh yeah, that's definitely a good sign."

There I am, falling so easily into my normal role as bro. I guess that's where I belong.

But something strange happened that night. Good strange. Tour Guide and I actually had a good time. I mean, we usually have a good time, otherwise I wouldn't keep hanging out with him, but he seemed to be having a good time with me specifically, not just in general.

Last week we went and had "coffee" which were actually "beers," (but we had them at a coffee shop) and we ended up at his friend's house eating cheese, drinking wine, and watching Animaniacs and Laurel and Hardy. It was awesome.

It's safe to say I'm beginning to enjoy our faux dates. It's really easy because there's no stress of trying to impress him, because we don't like each other, and I don't have to play those stupid games that you have to play when in the throes of courtship. (Which is good because I've always been bad and sports and those dating games are no exception.)

TG, for his part, is actually starting to seem interested in the things I say and do, which is nice. He was even showing his friends the sculptures I'd been working on when we were out. It was like he was bragging on me. And he let me borrow one of his favorite books to read. It was sweet.
As they say in Casablanca, "This could be the start of a beautiful friendship."

At first I thought the last thing I needed was another guy friend, but then I realized I don't have any here yet. So why not?

The only problem is that everywhere we go people think I'm his girlfriend. Which is a major double cock-block for both of us.

Last night when we were returning from the bar I went inside to use the bathroom when I dropped him off at his house.

To my surprise, there were quite a few people there.

Including PB's date.

SUCK.

His tall, cute, skinny date.

Double SUCK.

But also some cute guys.

Who asked if I was TG's girlfriend.

I laughed and said "No," but TG didn't say ANYTHING. He totally left me hanging, and then the guys were weired out, like they had hit a touchy subject or something. Ugh. Just when I had been so proud of him for being less awkward he has to go and do something like that.

TG had been kinda bummed out (his friend was leaving for several months, his bike broke, he's overloaded with homework, and his other friend's mom died. When it rains it pours.) so I offered to bring him some cupcakes that my roommates and I had made.

One of the cute guys overheard, "Cupcakes?! You bake?"

"Yeah, a little." I lied. (anyone who knows me knows I don't even know how to use an oven)

"Wow, you're the best...(awkward pause) friend ever!" He had overemphasized friend so it was more like: "friend" wink, wink; nudge, nudge.

I was mortified.

The only thing worse than a cute guy thinking you have a boyfriend you don't have is him thinking you are friends with benefits with someone you're not.

It seemed futile to argue the point, so I just said "Yep, I sure am."

Because I've never been good girlfriend, but I am a great friend.

I guess TG is lucky then.

And maybe, just maybe, if I'm haning out enough at their house Perfect Boy will realize his mistake and confess his undying like (love seems a bit overkill) for me.

A girl can dream, right?

The Perfect Boy (Man)

I met a boy this weekend.

Not just anyboy, the PERFECT boy, which of course, means it won't work out.

Well, I guess at this point in my life I should start referring to them as "men." When did that happen? All of a sudden I'm a grown-up and I realize that several of my friends are married with children and I still feel entirely too young for all that stuff. I can't figure out if there's something wrong with me or with the world, or maybe I'm not "wrong," just different, lord knows I'm different, but I digress....as usual.

My Tour Guide and I went out to the bar Saturday night to meet up with his roommate. Well, I drove over to his house, and we walked to the bar.

I wasn't expecting much from a roommate of Tour Guide....maybe another awkward Bromance, but then as I sat down next to him he said:

"Nice hairpiece." I waited to notice the sarcasm in his tone or for him to make a joke about it, but it didn't happen.

"Thank you." I replied, still stunned.

"I mean, it's flamboyant, but not too much so, ya know."

I didn't know how to take this. Is he gay? Of course he's gay, I thought, he dresses halfway decent and he doesn't think my headpiece is stupid.

"That's very observant of you."
"Well, that's what I do."
"Oh really? What do you do?"
"I'm an artist. A professional scenic painter for the Cincinnati Playhouse, which means I..."
"Oh yes, I know, I'm a designer at CCM!"

And that was it. We talked about art and theater all night.

And he's not gay!

He's tall and has a great beard, and did I mention he dresses well? Swoon.

Oh, and he's not Tour Guide's roommate, he's his LANDLORD. He owns the place. Granted, he also lives there, but it's a bit better.

He got his degree is sculpture, and and he's funny, and when we walked back to my car/their place he didn't offer me his coat (minus one chivalry point), but he did invite me to hang out.

He has a great big, super-friendly, furry dog named Jengo, and I want to hang out with that dog and walk him sooo bad. I know that sounds strange, but it just seems like the perfect situation, what with him getting cheap tickets to the most avant garde local theater (the one he works at) and all. Even if it doesn't pan out, it's a good connection....right?

Tour Guide got tired and said he was going to bed.

"Oh, I'll leave."
"No, you can stay and hang out, you don't have to rush off."

So I stayed, for a bit. And then I felt awkward, and then I felt tired, so I decided to leave. He seemed a bit sad to see me go, but he didn't ask for my number.

I said, "We should keep in touch."
"Okay."
"No really, we should."
More enthusiatically, "Oh, yeah, yeah..."
"Because..." and what I meant to say here was 'I want to see a show you've worked on' or something cool like that, but what I said was, "I don't have any friends here yet."

Which makes me sound super lame and pathetic. But not as lame and pathetic as me giving him a solid handshake at the end of the night instead of a hug.

Ugh. How am I still single?

The Cincinnati Blues

There are hills everywhere. Metaphorical, sure, but also LITERAL hills EVERYWHERE!

When your grandpa talks about walking to school uphill both ways he is referring to his childhood in CINCINNATI.

I got a library card today. The Clifton (my part of town) branch has some lovely eccentric staff that loves reading and life!

And then they saw my driver's license (you have to show ID to get a card), and the comments came pouring out:

"Oh, you're from KANSAS?! I bet you hear 'You're not in Kansas Anymore' a lot."

"Did you ever have a dog named Toto?"

"Do you click your heels to go home?"

"Are you as corny as Kansas in August?" (An obscure Rogers and Hammerstein reference I was surprised and delighted he knew)

I suffered through it all good-naturedly before picking out a Steve Martin book and heading on my way. They were very helpful, though, they even ordered a book for me.

It just hit me, as I was sweating profusely on the climb ("walk" seems too mild a term) home. I miss Kansas. Beautiful, FLAT Kansas.

There really is no place like home.

I miss the gang (the people at the group home for the developmentally disabled that I worked at). Of course I was watching Hulu and one of my favorite shows had a DD character on it. I bawled like a baby.

I miss my friends.

I miss improv. I miss laughing really loud and not getting weird looks.

I smashed my finger in a door a week ago and it is still numb. It's starting to freak me out.

At least my roommates are cool. One is teaching me French, one is a lover of fine Bourbon, and and the third is a delicious, yet healthy, cook. They all go to bed REALLY EARLY, though.

We went for a wine tasting tonight. It was fun.

Now I'm at home with my $1 Turkish Coffee ice cream that was on sale at the IGA in my neighborhood (really, THIS is my Firday Night in the Big City?!). I have a neighborhood now, for the first time, a distinct section of town known as Clifton, or my area, the more refined Gaslight District of Clifton; but I don't feel at home. Not yet anyway. I am either in awe of my surroundings or feeling like I'm barely treading water.

What I really need is something to do. Some good, old-fashioned WORK.

And maybe a trip to the doc about my finger....

Another "Date" with my "Bro"

On the car ride back to my apartment I apologized.

"Sorry I've been texting you so much, I just don't have any other friends in Cincinnati. I feel bad, because I feel like I'm bothering you...."

What I didn't say: "I feel bad, because I called you awkward to your face when I was drunk (on Friday), and I made you hold my hand so I wouldn't fall or get lost downtown." (What can I say? I feel very comfortable with people, especially dudes, and I forget that some people aren't as comfortable--aka bold--as I am)

What he said: "That's okay, you'll get to know more people and you won't text me as much, but we'll always be friends."

How is my Tour Guide so awkward and so spot on at the same time. For once, he said the right thing at the right time. This was after complaining about his snotty sinuses the whole night, but I'll give the guy a break.

Tour Guide texted me today during the best nap ever (I begrudgingly pulled myself outta bed)so we could go to a local record store together that was rated in Rolling Stone as one of the best in the nation. It's called Shake It Records, but that's neither here nor there.

He was looking to buy music festival tickets, and I was looking for a record player. He SAID he would buy me a ticket to the festival, but he ended up copping out. It didn't bother me because I knew he would.

First he came up to my apartment and met my roommates and saw my place and had a glass of wine. It all felt very formal and date-ish, which was not my intention, and he was proportionately awkward. My distaste for him was growing...

And then we got to the music store, and it was like something out of an indie movie. We played with the toys, he pretended to record me with a toy film camera, we laughed, we discussed music, and then he bought me a beer at the tavern across the street. He was introducing me to people, as he has been, and it felt very date-ish, in a good way....

Then he announced he was having dinner with his ex (that he talks about too much) tonight.

Damn it all.

That's what I get for thinking I could charm the clearly un-charmable.

I'm just going to stop trying and settle into my role as the quintessential bro.

I guess I could be like other girls and keep hoping that someday my prince will come, but we all know that when he does we'll drink beer, high five, and then he'll ditch me for the girl he's actually interested in. Some prince.

We ended the night lingering in my apartment doorway as I gave him sinus medication and a high five. Oh lord, I'm lame.

A Night Out in Cinci

I rode a Segeway!

I danced at a giant dance party!

I drank beer from Ohio!

Cincinnati has turned out to be fairly fun so far, thanks to my tour guide, who has the awesome nickname of Chainsaw. He knows EVERYONE, and I have met so many new people such as Segeway Guy, Farmer Henry (also known as Hot Henry), and so many more.

Segeway Guy works at the segeway store and gave us all a tutorial last night in the bar parking lot. It was so fun, although I was a bit frightened, Bo (who came to visit me from Columbus) was a natural.

We went to Oktoberfest, but it was lame, and we ended the night drinking water at a diner. I smashed my fingers in the bathroom door pretty good, but I don't think anything is broken. My poor fingers.

It was so good to see Bo. It's always good to see Bo, like an espresso shot of confidence. I am a destroyer of worlds when around Bo. I can do ANYTHING! We stayed out until 4 am, and then we went and got brunch this morning at this awesome place called "It's Just Crepes." We had the crepes.

Bo introduced me to Ikea today. I was overwhelmed by the hugeness of it all and underwhelmed by the overly-modern design aesthetic. I prefer more vintage-y, less-clean lines. Everything was just a bit too sleek for me, although I will by a cow skin rug there someday. That seems like the Kansas thing to do.

My tour guide, Chainsaw, is a bit of an odd duck. Everyone I meet I seem to hit it off with and we talk and laugh and tell stories, but not Tour Guide. He's always inviting me to things, and offering to help show me around, but he's either awkward or impossible to charm. He doesn't laugh at my stories, he doesn't even flirt in the way new acquaintances do in order to make faster friends, and I get the feeling when he invites me to a music festival, he legitimately just wants someone go to the music festival with him.

Ladies and gentlemen, I believe I have my first Cincinnati "bro."

Sure, I find him attractive enough, and he's a great connection, but it irks me how impervious he is to any of my endearing qualities. I can usually charm a whole room of people in 30 minutes flat, but he just seems a few steps behind, or maybe it's indifference, I don't know.

I thought I got out of the bro-trap in Kansas, but here I am, 600 miles away, and still one of the guys.

Being bros is easy for me, it's comfortable, and I'm not opposed to a Tour Guide Bro, in fact, it's very convenient, but I'm wary of getting stuck in that same cycle.

I guess it's time to buck the system.

The Greatest Love of All

Here I am Cincinnati! It's wonderful to meet you.

New city, new me. At least that's the plan.

I'm a million miles (actually 600) from home and completely out of my element. I'm getting settled. Learning the shuttle schedule, finding my classrooms, organizing my new place, meeting my new roommates....

I'm ready for my life here to start. What will Cincinnati Tricia be like? I can't wait to get to know her. I know that sounds silly, I know myself, but it is definitely a transitional period for me.

I love life right now. I love that I got into grad school and by some amazing grace of god (and a lot of support from my Ma) I actually got to go. I love that I live in a city...with a Nordstrom Rack. I love that I don't have to drive to school. I love that I get to do theater for at least 3 more years. I love make-up. I love my new apartment (even though my calves are burning from going up an down the stairs in my 3-rd floor place). I love the weather here, and the hills, and the trees, and the restaraunts.....

But there is one thing. One person, who I love, more than anyone else in this world. Who understands me like no one ever has and will, and will not be part of my life here in this new city: My Mom.

My Mom (Ma). My partner in crime. The one who shares my tears and laughter. The hardest person to please who will love me even if I fail. The most judgemental of all my friends. The person I can call at 3 am but will be pissed that I'm calling at that hour. The other half of my favorite two-person team.

If you know me, you probably know my mom, at least through stories. Everyone who talks to me for any length of time at all will have to suffer through a "My Mom is the Greatest" rant at some point.

I always say my Ma is much cooler than me, and that I hope to be as cool as her when I grow up. Sure, she changes into her pajamas right when she gets home from work (I think the only other person who spends so much time in a bathrobe is Hugh Hefner), but she's also crashed a wedding, and married a drummer, and risen above every adversity with so much grace it's almost sarcastic. Like, "Oh that horrible thing? It's outside with the old pop cans."

My mom had to start her whole life over a few years ago. It wasn't easy, but somehow she managed to come out of it more herself than I'd ever seen her. It was amazing to see all she could be when given the chance. At a time when I was struggling, trying to hold on to my old life that didn't exsist anymore, she was pushing forward like a bull toward a matador, and she let me ride on her back. She carried me, without knowing it, and sometimes I lead her, with my red cape, not even caring that when we charged it often turned out that nothing was there, just as long as we were charging. Together.

Now we are apart. As I type she is on the road back to Kansas getting further and further away. We shared a tearful goodbye, and she said, "Just because the team is apart doesn't mean we're not a team."

Thanks, Ma. For everything, big and small. I wish I had enough to repay you, but even my love isn't enough. All I can promise is that I will make you proud.

And that love can bridge even 600 miles.

Couples

I don't understand how couples work.

As a certified genius (no joke, technically my IQ says I am, but I've never been a strong believer in standardized tests) this simple joining of two people in a committed relationship should make sense to me, but it doesn't. I am totally and completely baffled by it time and time again.

I can see when two people would be good together. I can pinpoint qualities of a healthy relationship. I can even figure out when one of my relationships needs to end (and in record time compared to many of my female colleagues). What I don't get is how to become a couple. And once you've become one, how do you stay that way?

Sure, I've been in a couple before. I've even been happy for a while in coupledom, but I've never been in a relationship that just seems right.

Does no one else get that sinking feeling like if you don't jump ship right now you'll go down with it?

I see couples all the time that just seem right together. There's my ex who has the girlfriend who looks like she could be his sister, and my art friend couple with their weird old-fashioned names; and they all seem to get along famously. There's also my couple friends who work because they are opposites, like both my friends named Amanda who got married to the perfect guy for them this year, because they were everything Amanda (plural) was not and vice versa.


I've dated guys who are just like me and I found them annoying (wait a minute, am I annoying?), and I've dated my opposite and been so bored I literally fell asleep during a date. To be fair, I'd been working long hours and was really tired, but STILL!

I've also seen girls who just take on the personality and tastes of whoever they are dating. As a former actress and lover of new things I think it is fun to dip into someone else's world, but ultimately my personality is far too strong to be consumed by someone else.

I just feel like that big puzzle piece in a jigsaw puzzle that, try as you might, you can never find where it goes. Yeah, it goes somewhere, but where? Is it the ear of the puppy, or a piece of the flower, or the corner of the sky? You'd think it'd be obvious, but it's not.

Maybe if I just figure out who I am...

But I KNOW who I am and I am full of paradoxes. I'm a girl who loves football and Vogue. I'm a make-up designer who drinks beer and does improv. On my list of favorite movies is both "When Harry Met Sally," and "Romeo + Juliet," alongside "Children of the Corn," and "Taxi Driver." I could easily spend an hour fixing myself up to go out or making a 9-foot beer bong. (Both have led to an exceedingly fun night). I like hiking and spa pedicures. I sing opera and love punk music. I can sew a beautiful dress, but have burned canned soup. I read like it's going out of style (it is, I know) but get annoyed with "intellectuals." I'm from a no-stoplight town in Kansas (and love it), but I dream of working on (well, behind, underneath, etc.) the biggest stages in the world. I am totally irresponsible (my Mom's words; but losing my keys, cellphone, mind....is a daily thing) and yet completely driven and goal-oriented.

Where does someone like me fit? The crass, high-fashion, loud, wine-drinking, opinionated, theater lover?

How do you match that?

Sometimes I feel too big, in every sense of the word, to fit into a couple.

I wish there was a standardized test on how to be a couple. I rock at those.

BEST. WEEKEND. EVER.

I went to my old home of Emporia for my old bossse's wedding, and had the time of my frickin' life.

Friday
I arrive around 2:30 and do some serious catching up with my old neighbor and prodigy, Emily. We go to the school to visit the director of theater, and as soon as I get up the stairs Em says, "I like how you just checked the callboard. Nothing pertains to you, you don't have to check it anymore." Old habits die hard.
I got a great compliment from the director of theater, he said "Those people (aka the people I work with who have developmental disabilities) are so lucky to have someone with a heart like yours working with them."
I almost cried.
Then we all meet up for dinner (3 of us opt to drink our dinner). The drinks are flowing and the laughter is easy.
Then we head to the rehearsal dinner for free/awesome food.
Then we drink more, and laugh more.
Then we go to the bar.
Then we crash two parties and abduct a new theater student and corrupt him during our night of debauchery. We just pull up and yell: "Hey Bieber (he has Justin Bieber hair, don't remember his real name), get in the car."
"Yeah, and bring your beer!"

I hardly bought a drink all weekend.

Saturday
We nurse our hangovers with a little hair of the dog and head out to the rugby field to watch a game. We all proceed to get sunburnt and show up to the wedding with red skin and horrible tan lines in our pretty dresses.
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
After the game we go to the rugby party. If you read about the last rugby party you know how ridiculous they can be. Naked men, free beer, raucous singing. It's basically the best thing ever. However, they had just got their asses handed to them and had several players who had to go to the hospitable, so when we arrived the scene was downright subdued.
We get a couple pitchers and I holler. "What is this a effing dinner party? Well, I forgot to wear my ballgown so put out your candelabra and let's drink some effing beer!"
Games of flip cup and zumi zumi followed thereafter. I gave one of the poor rookies the nickname Sunshine and it stuck. I did a little verbal smackdown with the biggest guy there, and he actually dug it, I don't think he's used to back-talk, being a behemoth and all.
While still riding our buzz we get all fancied up for the wedding.
Lovely setting, perfect weather, and a reception with free food and this delicious raspberry champagne drink that I drank copious amounts of. Don't drink lots of champagne, it makes you feel awful.
But I had red lips and a rugby player as my date (he's actually one of my good friends, like a girlfriend--he hates it when I say that--but on the other hand he looks like a Greek god with his shirt off). He even danced with me even though nobody else was, and I was drunk enough not to care.
He told me I looked nice and everyone made fun of me when I blushed in spite of myself. Even though I think of him like a little buddy, when someone who looks as good as he does without clothes on gives you a compliment (oh and did I mention he's super-smart and rich and still manages to be a real stand up guy and not a douche?) even gals like me who are "one of the guys" are gonna blush. Good faux-date.
Then we went to the bar.
Then more people I hadn't seen in forever showed up.
The night became a giant love-fest with compliments and "truth bombs" as I like to call them (you know that thing that everyone's thinking, but no one says? I like to let loose with that stuff like it's Hiroshima) flying left and right. Everyone was hugging and laughing. My friend James (a girl) kept screaming, "I'm a Fucking Legend!"
It felt legendary.
I ended the night eating tortilla chips with one of my best guy friends, Essay (I call him that because he's Hispanic, and his name is Jessie) and talking until I passed out. I had the walk of shame minus the shame this morning. I can feel autumn in the air.

It's the end of an era. It's really over now, my time at ESU.

My old theater guys gave me some advice and well-wishes in refernce to grad school. They told me to "Break Legs," and "Kick it's ass."

I cried a little as I drove home.

How can anyone else possibly be as great as this group of friends?

All Work and No Play

Working another overnight.

Overnights are rough. It totally messes up your sleep schedule. You're tired for a couple days afterward, it just sorta lingers, like a fog over your mind. Basically, it sucks.

I'm working 60-plus hours this week. My paycheck better be sweet.

Work consumes my life, so dating has been pushed to the side. Shawn is in Chicago this weekend; I picked up a couple extra shifts.

Cincinnati is my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

I leave in less than a month.

Two weeks ago, the thought of leaving brought me to tears. Now, I've found a place, I've made a budget, I've got a plan. It's really happening. I'm going to do this for real.

How many people get to live their dreams?

Not enough, I'd say. But I do. I will.

I feel myself pulling away from Shawn. As I start packing up my things, and thinking about this new chapter, the less he seems to fit into my life. I certainly can't bring him along in a box. Now, I'm not even sure if I'd want to.

It's the same thing that happens to me everytime. I dive right in, and after a while I start to feel like I'm sinking and he is the anchor. Does everyone feel this way, or is it just me?

The good thing about being in a relationship is that it reminds me how much I like to be single.

Maybe some things never change.

It looks like I sure won't.

One of my friends got me in contact with a friend of his who lives in Cincinnati and goes to UC. He's offered to show me around. At least I'll have a guide in this unfamiliar city.

Also, he's kinda cute.

Yep, same old Tricia, different location.

I guess I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Here we go again..."

"I kinda want to be more than friends"
--Neon Trees

I went to see my Pseudo Phone Boyfriend.

It was lovely. My heart was racing and I had to pee several times throughout the day because of nerves, but the day was the stuff music videos are made of.

He took me to lunch and we sat talking long after our plates had been taken away (he paid, but that fact seems irrelevant in this situation). We drove around on these narrow Kansas highways. I took pictures of the blue sky and the open road on his fancy phone. We visited his hometown, and I saw all the places he used to hang out. When he went to drop me off we sat in the car forever not wanting to say goodbye.....

But the moment that got me was during lunch. Our food was gone so there was nothing to distract us. I was leaning on my hand, hovering over my water. PPB was fidgeting with his napkin avoiding my eyes. Then he looked up, quickly returning his gaze to the burgundy napkin, rolling, and twisiting, and folding....but first, for a second, he did a double take. He stopped and looked at me. REALLY looked at me. He exhaled just a little while holding my gaze, then held his breath. It was like he'd never seen me before. It was perfect.

That's when I realized he wasn't being rude, he was just as nervous, if not more so, as I was.

I asked him if I was disappointing in real life. To sum it up the answer was "no," and he kept saying how nice I looked.

He was more awkward and more handsome than I remembered.

His shirt was soft as I laid my head on his arm driving down a gravel road.

His eyes are so green.

I wanted to kiss him so bad. My hair got in the way, and then he went in for the mouth kiss as I was going for the cheek kiss....things got weird.

But I just gave him a passionately friendly kiss on the cheek.

I drove out of the parking lot while every impulse I had was telling me to turn around and go back.

KISS HIM!

My mind screamed.

Go back and kiss him, you idiot! This is your chance...you've been waiting for this moment for MONTHS! KISS HIM!

I stayed at the stop sign for a long time....but I turned on my blinker and kept driving.

PPB and I kept texting as I was out at the bar with Shawn later that night. It felt scandalous for some reason. I'd done nothing wrong but I hadn't seemed to do anything right either.

Shawn rubbed my back as I was moaning with a stomach ache Saturday night. He also told one of his friends I was his girlfriend. We went to dinner with his sister like it was no big thing. It's a slippery slope. Being with him is so easy.

But his eyes are hazel. More brown than green. And they've never looked at me like that.

PPBand I sang this song going 65 on the Highway. My feet propped up on his dash. Sunglasses and Kansas prarie racing past our windows. Were we both thinking the lyrics rang too true?

"Oh oh
I want some more
Oh oh
What are we waiting for?
What are we waiting for?
Say goodbye to my heart tonight"
--Neon Trees

Holy Balls

Well, you're in for a treat dear readers, because my life just got funny again!

Anyone remember my Pseudo Phone Boyfriend? Well, let me tell you a little story....

I met PPB in community college. We were both in theater. Shawn had just broken up with me right before I left for college. He had broken my heart, yet again (the first time being when I was only 14. I listened to my Toni Braxton cd on repeat). Years later Shawn said it was because he never wanted to hold me back. By that time in my life I knew he was telling the truth, and I also knew he had given me the most precious gift, the freedom to make my own way in the world. I don't know if he ever imagined I'd come back to him, but at the time I knew I would. It's funny how life takes you on exactly the path you thought it would after you've forgotten the way....

But I digress.

I went off to college with the determination to live my life and have all the experiences I'd thus far been deprived of. AKA, I drank a lot that first year. Also, I found myself for the first time being considered attractive to guys. In high school I had boyfriends sure, but one boyfriend at a time, and with some time in between; and really in my group of friends I was the "cool dude with long hair." So the prospect of MULTIPLE guys being interested in me AT ONE TIME just blew my mind. I didn't know how to handle it.

And then I met Prince Charming. He literally was Prince Charming in our production of Cinderella and I was merely a chorus member. The first time I saw him he was skateboarding around the dorm parking lot with aviators on. At night. (That's where I get my saying, "Only two types of people where sunglasses at night. Blind men and douches. Are you blind?") That was it for me. I thought he was the coolest guy I'd ever seen.

PPB was a much quieter guy. While Prince Charming demanded the limelight, PPB did more brooding in the corner. He was mysterious. I didn't "get" him. I thought he was the best looking guy I'd ever seen.

So you can see my connundrum when I had both guys in my dorm room at one time vying for my attention.

PPB just gave up and left.

I made out with Prince Charming a few, unenjoyable times, and then that was it for us. I realized what a fool I'd been. It should've been PPB all along. I snuck in the boys dorm and went to his room to try and talk to him, but he would have none of it. Soon after he got into a very serious relationship, and I thought, "Oh, he never really liked me anyway."

Flash forward to this year. I'm on FB just goofing off when PPB and I start chatting. We hadn't talked in years. He lives in another state and is in the Air Force now.

Then he asks me if I can remember a time in my life that "if it had turned out differently, my whole life would have been better?" I don't know quite how to respond...Then he says, "I think if I had stayed and Prince Charming had left that night, my whole life would be different. It would be better."

My heart skipped a beat.

We began chatting more and more. He asked for my phone number. We started texting, and finally we would talk for hours at night several times a week. When I felt sad, alone, or anxious, I would call him. When I couldn't sleep, I would call him, and he would talk to me until I fell asleep with my face in the phone. It was a dark time in my life, and he was like a little life preserver keeping me afloat.

He bought me customized chucks for Valentine's Day. He let me use his subscription to Netflix for FREE. Sometimes we would watch the same movie on Netflix and then call each other and discuss it.

Then we started talking less and less. The calls became fewer and farther between. Our pseudo romance was becoming an earnest friendship in my mind. I assumed he'd found someone better, or was just plain bored with me.

Now he's here in Kansas on leave. He called me last night. He wants to see me.

I said, "Of course!" Then I realized I'd better explain to him the situation. I told him about Shawn, and to my shock, PPB got really upset. He said he didn't want to see me.

Still oblivious, I replied, "You don't want to see me just because I'm seeing someone? But, we're friends? You don't even like me....Oh my god, do you like me?!"

"Don't make me say it...."
"I didn't realize! I thought you were interested in someone else...I thought...."
"Of course I like you. I can't believe you thought I didn't like you. I bought you shoes"
"That was months ago..." was my feeble defense.

A huge smile broke out on my face.

He doesn't know his plans for sure yet, but he wants to see me this weekend. Shawn also hasn't confirmed if he's available this weekend, but I was supposed to see him, too.

I've been wanting to see my Pseudo Phone Boyfriend for over half a year now. I don't want to pass up this opportunity to see him before he goes off to war. On the other hand, I love Shawn. We haven't talked about being exclusive but I know this would hurt him.

It's not like either one of them are going to Ohio with me.

These aren't just some random dudes, though.

I don't know what to do.

Holy Balls.

"Half of my heart..."

"Is a shotgun wedding
To a bride with a paper ring..."
--John Mayer

I promised myself when I started this that I wouldn't hold anything back. That has gotten increasingly difficult as my readers seem to grow in numbers without my knowledge and people I'm writing about tend to not like to be mentioned, but I've perservered. I was just telling little stories. Funny tidbits.

But now my heart's in it, and writing from my heart and my not my funnybone has never been my strong suit, at least in a public venue. Please be patient with me as I try to get past all my defenses and tell you about my current dating situation without lying to you or myself.

I went to visit Shawn again this weekend. It was great. Sword fights in Hastings, reading books and playing chess in the cafe, picking out sunglasses for his roommate, a new pair of jeans, stuffed mushrooms, jamming with an acoustic guitar on the front porch, making a 9 foot beer bong, watching Zombieland in bed, holding hands, berry weiss, a bonfire, loads of compliments, and laughing really, really hard.

I had to stop periodically and remind myself to remember these moments, they never last.

A little over a month from now, I will be gone. Shawn won't be coming with me.

Sure, he gets on my nerves. Yeah, he doesn't know how to match, or own dress shoes, he wears clothes with holes in them, he chews tobacco, he talks about football way too much (and this is coming from a girl who likes football), he's too stuck in the "glory days" of high school, he doesn't have a college degree, and we bicker like an old married couple....and I love it. I just feel like I have to see this through. I'm not going to leap into anything, but I'm going to put myself out there for the first time in a long time.

And when I leave....

IF I leave...You see, my step-dale has been hurt and unable to work and now my mom doesn't know if they can afford to send me to grad school. I've been working overtime trying to save but there's the possibility that I might have to stay here in Small Town, KS for another year to save the money to go.

But not going to grad school is not an option in my mind. This school only accepts TWO people a year, and they accepted me, and if I blow them off, who knows if I'll get in again? I'll do whatever it takes to make sure I go, but there's a feeling in my chest. A tightness. It feels like all my worst fears are coming true. OF COURSE something would happen to make it hard, things can never be easy, it seems. I haven't been able to really relax since my mom came into my room and gave the blow. I may look relaxed, but it's like walking around with "brick in your pocket" as the playwright David Lindsey-Abaire would say. Sure, you can get around, but it's always there, weighing you down.

When I think of staying I see this mundane life where I basically cook and clean for a living. Not really using my mind, not CREATING. My mom would think I was being overdramatic but that feels like dying a little bit at a time. Some people can settle, some people are like sharks and have to keep swimming to survive.

Sometimes it feels like Shawn is the only light in this tunnel.

I keep telling myself that everything will be fine.

Who knew love would be so hard? Whether it's romantic love, friendship, or the love of theatrical arts, truly loving something is the worst feeling ever worth feeling....and I wouldn't trade it for the world.

"Half of my heart
Is the part of the man
Who's never truly loved anything"
--John Mayer

JT*

So, since I've been thinking I might be in love, or at least that I might be ready to take a chance on love, I decided to test myself....

I went to JT's facebook page. You know JT, if you know me, you've at least HEARD about him.

We met at one of my first ever ZOIKS shows (I deleted myself from the ZOIKS Official Members Only FB page yesterday, and it made me kinda sad). The one at the bar where I accidentally flashed my boobs pretending to be a honry 13 year-old. I also went around randomly humping the audience. One of my best friends, Essay, was standing next to him in the crowd and he said, "Now, that girl. That girl is funny." Essay told me about it later, and I was in LOVE (like I've said before, most guys don't appreciate a funny girl).

We saw each other again at New Years. My first New Years celebration in Emporia. I kissed EVERYONE that night, and I....mean....EV-ER-Y-ONE. I made out with JT. I was in LOVE.

I started writing a musical about him (one no one should EVER read). I invented these elaborate fantasies of our life together in my head. There is the famous one about us walking our golden retrievers and the leashes get tangled up and we fall down and laugh really, really hard. It was great. I was in LOVE.

Had I spoken even a script's page worth of words to him? No. But, it didn't matter, I was in LOVE.

And then my last summer theater rolled around. JT came to town. We FINALLY hooked up, and it was.....bad. Miserable, really. Turns out I was in love with the JT in my head, not the one who really exists. To this day, I wonder what could have been if this or that had not gone wrong...if I hadn't been so nervous I wasn't even acting like myself. I was so nervous around this guy I couldn't sleep, or eat, or BE FUNNY. I can ALWAYS be funny. That's how I get through my life, but around him I was just this slobbering, fumbling stupid girl. I can be very charming, and really cool....not around JT. JT was like my kryptonite. I once said that if he asked me to quit reading Vogue my response would be "What's Vogue?"

That's not a way to live your life. And I have since learned that when you love someone from afar, it's like regular television, and everything looks fine; but when you really get to know them everyhting's in HD and you can see all the imperfections. And it isn't pretty.

So today I looked at his profile, and longed for the dream man that was really a nightmare.

I've seen all of Shawn's imperfections. Is love thinking someone is great despite all their faults, or just learning to live with them?

Still, if JT came to me right now and said "Drop everything, let's be together forever." I'd say, "Sure thing."

Actually, I'd say, "Sure, but let me get my Prada shoes, and my Coach scarf, my Armani watch....."

But that's another silly fantasy.

Old habits die hard. JT's one. Is Shawn one?

*name has been altered to protect the innocent

How do you expect me....

To live alone with just me?

....It's so hard for me breathe.

Been playing that song on repeat ever since I left Shawn's this weekend. I mean, like obsessively. It feels like the only way to express how I feel right now, but I will attempt to on here.

I asked Shawn to move to Cincinnati. Not a hypothetical, not a joke: for real. Whether or not he took it that way, I don't know.

Why would I do something so completely bonkers?

Well, I said it was because I would have a roommate so I would't have to worry about finding one, and Shawn would keep me safe, and I know he would pay the rent, and he'd be great during the moving process for carrying stuff....blah, blah, blah...

I can't help wondering if the truth is I don't want to live without him?

I know I CAN, but what if I don't want to? What if this is it?

It's all waaay to heavy for me. Shawn can't be the one right? He's not well-read, artsy, stylish, or anything like I imagined "the one" being. I don't know if I even believe in "the one", but he doesn't even meet any of my criteria! He's a REPUBLICAN who HUNTS and drives a TRUCK....and I love him. I don't know how I love him, but I've never doubted that I do. That's not in question. There are a million other questions, questions I can't, WON'T ask....

This is bad. I don't want this. I don't want to have to miss anything when I move, or regret anything, and I am NOT giving up my dream, not for ANYTHING, and especially not to move to Pittsburg, KS like Shawn suggested.

But, the truth is, Shawn wouldn't want me to. And I don't know why I expect him to give up everything when I won't. He'd leave his best friends, his job, his dog...but, really, he won't. I know in my heart he won't move. And then I'll live in Cincinnati 15 megabus hours (I measure long distances by how long it takes to get there on the cheapest bus) away, and that will be it. Sure, we'll talk sometimes, and maybe visit on holidays, but the saga that is Shawn and Tricia will be over. Really over. I knew it would happen, I guess I just didn't expect it to make me so damn sad.

We were all hanging out at his best friend's house and drinking a delicious New Orleans drink called a hurricane and getting plenty drunk when his friend blurted out: "What are you two doing? C'mon, you're perfect for each other, I don't see what the problem is!" He'd called us out, and all we could do was mumble excuses awkwardly.

This isn't my life. It can't be my life. Why then, does it feel sometimes like I'm it fighting for no reason? This weekend wasn't even romantic or anything, we didn't even DO anything. But he just makes me feel so safe, and special, and pretty...and I guess I'm old enough now to know that's hard to find. It feels like I've just been in denial all this time.

What am I saying?! I can't settle down! I can't get....gasp....married...

But it's not about that. I'm not rushing into anything. But if he moved with me, I'd give it a shot, really give it a shot, but I'm too chicken to tell him that, and I'm so afraid to put myself out there. I know he'll just let me down, because I've always seen more in him than he can see in himself. My heart will break, and I'm just a big, fat, sissy who's afraid to break her heart. He was my first hearbreak. I don't know if I can handle him being my last. When it comes down to it I'm afraid of love, and all that comes with it.

And if it did work out...

What would I blog about then? This is a dating blog, not a "happily ever after" blog. And I'm just not a fairytale kind of girl. It doesn't turn out that the right one was there all along. That's not how this story ends.

So, I'm just going to enjoy my time with him. No more holding back, just enjoy it. Whatever happens, happens. What could possibly go wrong besides everything?

This feeling will pass, I'm sure.

"Got me out here in the water so deep
Tell me how you're gonna be without me?
If you ain't here I just can't breathe
No air
No air"

The Small-Town, KS Slump

I am back in my hometown and bored outta my mind.

You see, in Emporia I had a new guy every week or so. Mind you, these encounters did not lead to any great relationships, and the guys usually sucked (because I heart guys that suck), but it kept my life interesting.

Here in Small-Town, KS there is a beautiful lake just a few blocks from my house where I go walking, ther is a beautiful countryside view out my bedroom window, and there is absolutley NO social life.

However, this Fourth of July weekend also happened to be the All School Reunion for my HS and so people I haven't seen for years came from all around.

Including Shawn.

We spent the whole weekend together, he even went to the Alumni Dinner with me because I was performing a song with my Step-Dale (my nickname for my Step Dad, Dale). Shawn was a great date, even though we can't seem to spend any length of time together without bickering like an old married couple.

Out and about we ran into one of Shawn's best buddies who he used to live with back when we were dating. At one point in the night he pulled me aside, "What have you done to him this weekend?"

Totally confused by the question I said, "What are you talking about?"

"I heard you were moving out of state." Was his reply.

"Yep, in September." My face lit up as it has been latley, whenever I talk about my upcoming grad school adventure.

"Oh, that's what you did to him." Was all he said.

It was like taking a bullet. I guess I didn't think Shawn really cared, or at least he didn't seem to. I was always so blind. Moments that night had felt like old times, and I had looked at him the way I saw him 6 years ago when he was my world. It felt really nice...but the kind of really nice that's like starting to feel warm again just as you succumb to hypothermia. I can't succumb, right?

But the most important man I saw this weekend, who is, and always will be one of the most important men in my life, was Bo.

We just laughed and laughed, and put our hearts on our cynical, designer sleeves.

Bo, the male, gay, asian equivalent of my mother. The guy who sees the good in me when even I haven't found it yet.

We were talking about when we first met. He asked me to tell my side of the story to see if it was the same as his.

My side was thus:

We were in choir together and you were being a total snob, using your big vocabularly and trying to make me feel stupid, basically using your smarts as a defense mechanism, when I finally said, "Bowen (his full name), I know you're used to being the smartest person around, but I know what all those words mean, and you're not making any sense." Oh, Snap!

Then he told me his side of the story:

All he said was, "I can't remember a time without you in my life."

I almost cried, but all I said was, "You bitch!" And we both burst into a fit of laughter.

Sometimes the best dates aren't romantic at all. And as I watched my best girlfriend from HS stumbling around the bar because she had talked her mom into watching the baby, and as I sang "Don't Stop Believing" at the top of my lungs with her uncle Corey, and as I caught up with people I hadn't seen in years, I realized that sometimes the best dates are old friends. And that's what Shawn is too, an old friend.

My Last Night in Emporia

My old friend Josh had just gotten to town to do summer theater, so it was his first night in town, and I was rolling out right after work the next day, so it was my last night in town....and we decided to celebrate.

We went out to the Noose, which we hardly ever go to now, because they were having a $1 PBR special. I'm wearing a new top that I got for my b-day that really shows off the girls and a beautiful coral statement necklace. I walk into the bar laughing with my friends and then I have to do a double take:

It's Glass Guy.

He always seems to just magically appear when I'm least expecting him.

I haven't spoken to him since that chance encounter at the bar weeks ago. I'd deleted him from my phone and even un-friended him on Facebook. I was DONE with GG (truth be told I would still check out his FB profile every now and again). DONE. But there he was, on my last night in town. It felt like fate. Like God was giving me a freebie.

He hugged me hello, bought me a drink (I didn't pay for a drink all night. SWEET!), and we got to talking, like we always do, but it was different this time. I didn't get the crazy stomach flip or feel nauseous. I didn't even really get into that bubble where I only notice him. It was liberating. I actually didn't care. My mind was just in "Whatevs. I'm outta here!" mode.

He drove me home. Apparently when you have no means to cook food (or really anything in your apartment but a bed and a suitcase) and are trying to sustain yourself on a couple of value menu tacos from Taco Bell, you get drunk a lot easier. He stayed the night. I hate sleeping alone so it was a good way to spend my last night.

Something had definitely changed from before, and it was for the better. We snuggled, he kissed my forehead, he gave compliments.....He was still awkward, but since I was out of my infatuated haze I saw it for what it was: a defense mechanism. At that point I realized that it is quite possible that GG has NEVER had a real girlfriend, so he doesn't really know what to do around girls. And it is also possible that he liked me a more than I thought (although it doesn't really matter now). I actually LAUGHED at stuff instead of getting all offended. It was an all-around nice evening.

He said he wanted to come visit me in Cincinnati.

Maybe if he comes to visit me we'll have a grand old time, but I'm not getting my hopes up or waiting around. I've already got one foot out the door. I'm gone.

Somehow, without even discussing everything, it all feels resolved, and to be honest, I could care less at this point. I feel like I finally got to have the summer fling I was looking for, and now I'm done.

Mission Accomplished.

Simple Dating Rules for Guys

I haven't posted in while because I haven't had access to a computer. Sorry, to my devoted fans (if I even have any) I am back in action.

I wish I could say that this past month has been pretty uneventful in the dating realm, but it hasn't, and for once I just wish it would be. So, instead of catching you up, I thought I might give a few dating pointers for any of my male readers.

1. Dress to impress. I know when I open the door whether the date is going to be a success or not. It's not just if you have a sense of style, which is important, but whether or not you took the time to make yourself look good. If you need it spelled out for you, here are some things that are probably not appropriate date wear (unless you are going to an amusement park or something of that nature): tee shirts, cargo shorts, athletic sneakers, ratty old jeans, flip flops, cargo pants, ball caps. Here are some things that are not only inappropriate on a date, but EVER: wife-beaters by themselves, swim trunks (worn as regular shorts), and tee shirts with lewd sayings.

2. Time is essential. The problem I've run into with most younger guys is that they don't know how to end a date. I recently went on a date that started out alright. He picked me up at 7, we ate dinner, and then we went out to the river to chat and watch the sun set. It was all summing up to a pretty decent first date, then he says "Well, what do you want to do now?" Well, I WANTED to go home and decompress, but I didn't want to be rude. We ended up watching a movie at my place until I FINALLY kicked him out at 12:30! The date was OVER FIVE HOURS LONG! That's ridiculous! There is no reason for a date to be that long. I get tired of being "on' after 3 hours. So please guys, give the girl a break!

3. Pay. Guys should always pay for the first date. They just should. If they asked you out, they should pay. I'm an independent, free-thinking lady but I know a gentleman when I see one and a gentleman pays.

4. PLAN. If you ask a girl out, plan what you are going to do. Plan every activity. Nothing is worse than getting in a car and having a guy go, "Sooo, what do you want to do/where do you want to eat, etc.?" Planning shows that you took time to think about what she'd enjoy and that you are assertive and confident. Those are all good things.

5. Don't kiss (or at least do more than kiss, it's only the first date!). The end of the night on the first date is always awkward, but know this: you don't want to make it more awkward by kissing a girl who is not ready to kiss. Unless the chemistry has just been amazing, a hug and maybe a kiss on the cheek will suffice. The end of the night is for scheduling the next date, not for a hot hook-up, so don't force it!

These should be common-sense, but in my experience, they are not, so please, take this to heart guys, and I garantee the next date you go on will be smooth sailing (if that's the activity you PLANNED for the date). Well, as long as she likes you.

Weddings

My younger cousin got married this weekend. It was a lovely ceremony but I was left feeling a bit odd. I'm not sure if I believe in love, let alone marriage, but having a younger relative get married is still a bit disconcerting. However, it got me thinking about weddings and all that comes with them. I'm not one of those girls that grew up dreaming about her fairytale wedding. I'm not even sold on the idea of ever getting married, but once I got to thinking about it, I realized that if I ever did somehow get convinced to do it there are some key things I would definitely NOT want at my wedding/reception:

1. I don't think I really want a ceremony at all. Just a big, ridiculous party. Churches and vows just aren't my thing, and if I'm really in love, it won't matter if everyone sees the actual moment or not, in fact, I'd prefer for it to be just us for that part. Maybe it's a bit of my romantic side coming out, or maybe it's because ceremonies are dreadfully boring to sit through....

2. No kids. You see, I want a big, ridiculous ADULT party with, cocktails, dancing, cussing, and laughing. Maybe it's rude, but if you're having a formal event with drinks nothing ruins it more than rugrats running amuck. I know you love your kids, and it's not that I don't love your kids, but get a babysitter for one night so we don't have to worry about chocolate stains on our couture and can actually have fun (remember FUN parents?).

3. A Unity Candle. I think they're super lame. (that also means unity sand, rocks, water, etc.)

4. Bad Music. Why is it that weddings are the only time I have to suffer through songs like "The Macerena" and "The Chicken Dance"? C'mon people, seriously?

5. Corinthians or any other Bible-related rhetoric. I've never considered myself a Christian. I am spiritual, not religious. I'd be open-minded to a reading from religious texts around the world concerning love, but even that's pushing it.

6. Bouquet Toss/Garter Throw. Why don't I just slap a big fat "S" for "Single" on my guests' foreheads? I refuse to subject myself to such misery, I would never do it to people I consider loved ones.

7. Bridesmaids. It's not that I don't have some very special girlfriends who I'd like to honor, but isn't that what the bachelorette party is all about? I'd much rather spend that money on getting all my best friends (which consist of a lot of guys, actually) together in one spot and having a night we'll never forget. Plus, it will save me a lot of unnecessary drama. (upside for guests: no gross matching outfits you'll never wear again, you just get to be your fabulous self!)

While it may seem like I'm a Negative Nancy when it comes to holy matrimony, there are a few wedding things that I am not opposed to:

1. A dress. I don't think the dress has to be white, and I'm definitely not wearing some ridiculous Cinderella-wanna-be style, but I've always been pro expensive gowns, so you know that I will be decked out on that special day.

2. Booze/Food. Nothing brings old friends and new together like breaking bread and sharing drinks. Especially if it's free for them.

3. Toasts. I want TONS of them. I think instead of bridesmaids and such I will just pick the special people from the different stages of my life to give toasts. I LOVE speeches, and most of my friends and fam are hams anyway.

4. Bachelor/Bachelorette Parties. I love any reason to celebrate, and if I'm actually getting hitched I'll need a final (sort of ;) night of debuachery.

5. Dancing (yes this inculdes the first dance, and father-daughter dance, etc). You may not know this about me, but I LOVE to dance. I always have. Somewhere along the way I realized what a terrible dancer I was and got self-concious about it, but if it's my party, I'll dance if I want to!

6. Honeymoons. A widely-accepted reason for a dream vacation? Count me in!

Well now that I've analyzed what I like and dislike about this time-old tradition, I guess all that's left is to believe in love again, which is altogether harder than just planning a big party with cake. But, if somehow in this crazy world someone can do that for me (or I can do it for myself, for all you independent ladies out there), there just may be a tasteful invitation in your mailbox to a rockin' black-tie party for those 18 and up. Keep your eyes peeled (but don't hold your breath).

Shawn

Shawn came to town last weekend. If you know me, you've probably heard of Shawn before. He was my first real kiss (the first time we dated), my first time (the second time we dated), and my first love (always). Now THAT'S a pretty intense tri-fecta of relationship firsts, and it grants him a very special place in my heart.

Shawn and I literally grew up together. He is a friend of the family, not just me. And, and here's the kicker, Shawn is the ONLY, and I mean ONLY ex in my BIG 3 (ya know how in sports you have the Big 12? Well I have the Big 3, the 3 loves from the 3 different points in my life) who I am still friends with and who is even still speaking to me when not forced (the one I almost got engaged to? has refused to talk to me for years). In fact, I know I can call Shawn at 2 am and he will drive 3 hours from Pittsburg if I need him to.

So Shawn came to town on a whim and we had the best non-date date I'd had in a while. First, I took him shopping and picked out a couple shirts for him to wear, then I picked him out a new cologne (Polo Black...delicious), after that we went out to eat at one of Emporia's many excellent Mexican eateries (he paid, we even ordered drinks!), and we ended the night by going out to the bar where we were met by Katie and my wonderful married friends Marcus and Julie.

I'm standing at the bar minding my own business when I turn and there he is: Glass Guy.

Is it weird that my first thought was: "I wish I had fixed my hair" ?

I tried to be aloof but my other friend standing next to him exclaims "TRICIA!" and gives me a giant hug before proceeding into a long conversation where we caught up on each other's lives, all the while GG is standing there awkwardly.

Shawn comes up and gives me my drink and then goes to sit with my friends. I think "that was really cool of him, I'm talking to two guys (two really good-looking guys, mind you) and he's not acting all possesive or anything. Maybe, just maybe, this is the beginning of a beautiful, genuine, no-professions-of -love, friendship."

Finally I turn to Glass Guy. I go to shake his hand but he hugs me instead. Oh no.
Then we start talking.
Then my other friend walks off.
Then we start to get in that wonderfully horrible bubble we get into.
Then Marcus comes over.

*POP*

Whew, what a relief.

Marcus puts his arm around me and says I'm wanted across the bar, and that Julie keeps saying something about "Class Guy."

I blush so hard my face is on fire. "I don't know what you're talking about..."

Marcus, "Was he in your class or something? I don't know what CLASS guy means..."

GG, "Glass guy?"

At this point I am shoving him away, completely mortified. "I'll tell you about it later...I'll be over there in a second!"

Marcus gives me a big, fat kiss on the cheek before he goes. Marcus is my bro, but GG doesn't know that, and by the look on his face there's no use explaining.

"I guess you're wanted..."

I stand there awkwardly. "Yeah..."

At this point I realize that every time GG has seen me since our final encounter I have been with a different dude. He probably thinks I played him. He thinks I played him. He disresepected me and countless other women I'm sure, and I'm the one who hurt his pride. The whole thing got so messed up and somehow I came out as the player (even though he hooked up with me and one of my friends in the span of 3 days. not. cool.). I felt like it was a little victory for jilted women everywhere, but knowing how much I really kinda liked him it was still a loss for me. I wanted to tell him everything that happened, how it was all a big misunderstanding, but all I said was, "Maybe I'll see you around. Take care."

It was the right thing to do. I deserve better than that.

I spent the rest of the night (minus some Katie drama) laughing with my freinds. It was fantastic.

So, you might be wondering why I'm not with Shawn.

That answer is so complicated I can't even begin to explain it fully. Sometimes I wonder myself if I didn't "get it right the first time." I know that I could marry Shawn and it would be easy and that would be my life, but I also know that I have to take the road less traveled. I can't stop now. I can't settle for a life without any surprises. Shawn and I are just so different. As much as we grew up together we have just as much grown apart.

I'm home for the weekend. I hung out with Shawn at the local saloon last night. We drank beer with another guy from high school and reminisced and talked football. Then Shawn started going on and on about how I'm the only girl he can never say "no" to. Every time Shawn gets drunk (which is often) he goes on a rant similar to this. As I left the bar I knew that what I liked about Shawn most is that he feels like home, but as they say, you can't go home again. I don't fit into that life anyway. Never have.

Old and New

It's graduation weekend. My Roomie is graduating....

Which got me thinking, Roomie and I have to be the longest, healthiest relationship I've ever been in that didn't involve blood relation. We LIVED together for 3 years, and now we're putting all our things in boxes. Packing it all away. We've kinda been doing that with our friendship, too: packing it up, so it won't hurt so much. It's hard to imagine my life without Roomie in it, we were like a package deal, a two for one....but even twinkies come in single packages now. What is the world coming to?

Joel leaves on Monday. I'm helping put together a little farewell dinner for him. I made two of my famous cheesecake pies and decorated them with blueberries and strawberries. Very Americana, or as Joel would say, "USA! USA! USA!"

And while some friends are leaving, I'm reconnecting with others. Eric Luchen came in town and it was like cold water to the face (in a good way). I'd forgotten what it was like to be around someone who doesn't bullshit. Someone who truly says what is on their mind (maybe to a fault). You always know where you stand with people like that, and I consider my little jew friend to be a very dear friend indeed.

Also, my brotha from anotha motha Marcus and his wonderful red-headed wife Julie came to Emporia for a night of drinking and debauchery. It was super fun. They brought a friend with them who was a combat medic and had two purple hearts. He was funny, and cute, and sharp, until he got waaaay too drunk and lost some of that charm. I thought he was super cool, but when he tried to invite himself to stay the night with me....not cool. Oh well, it was a night full of laughs, and drinks, and greasy food from a truck stop diner....who could ask for more?

And with all the old must come some new.

The MVP and I are still talking. We kissed, once. It was nice, but my mind was somewhere else and it hasn't happened since....He took me to a BBQ yesterday at a friend's house. It was a good time, but I was the ONLY white person there. I stuck out like a really pale sore thumb. I was wearing a pale yellow cardigan over a bright blue tank top from the Gap and had a big flower necklace my roomie got in Paris on. I couldn't have looked more white-bread if I had planned it. Oh, and did I mention my shoes were Banana Republic and had bows on them? Yeah. Half-way through the night MVP pointed out that my regular handshake I do in greeting someone was inappropriate. That made perfect sense as to why all of the handshakes seemed awkward. "Oh dear. I've been shaking their hands normally all night! That's just how I say hello!" He smiled, amused at my faux pas, and patted me on the shoulder. "I know. It's okay." It was okay, but it was weird. The food was amazing. We had BBQ and homemeade mac and cheese, and collard greens....mmmmmm....But I definitely felt out of my element. You don't really notice the cultural differences until you're emmersed in them.

MVP came to the ZOIKS show. My LAST improv comedy show....maybe ever....It was a good show, I felt really on, but it lacked the sentiment I'd always thought it'd have. Up until that point the MVP had only seen me out and about looking cute and acting flirty. When doing improv I'm just another one of the guys, looking ugly and acting goofy. At first I thought he seemed turned off by this, but at the BBQ he kept bragging to people about how funny I was. It was sweet.

Here's the issue: I think that some of the qualities I like in a guy are qualities that usually mean a guy isn't interested in you. (Luchen calls this the Tricia Factor). For instance, I can go 3 days easily without speaking to my significant other. It doesn't mean I'm mad, or anything is wrong, I just have other stuff to do. To me, it's not a big deal. On that same note, I LIKE it when a guy doesn't call me or text me all the time, or when we don't see each other that often. I just don't like to be bothered. When I want to see you, I will arrange to see you, it's as simple as that. I've read "He's Just NOT That Into You," I know that when a guy doesn't call it means it's a no-go, but I LIKE it when someone doesn't call. Therefore, the equation is as such:

ME + GUY - INTEREST = ATTRACTION

See the problem here?

MVP calls, and shows me attention, tells me I'm pretty, compliments my style, shows me off to his friends....all the things I SHOULD want from a guy, but it just tends to make me pull back.

It's something I need to work on.

Out with the old, bad habits. In with the new.

Mulligan

A Mulligan, by definition, is a golf termed used for a re-do. Example: You shot poorly teeing off so you take a Mulligan and tee off again. A do-over.

I'm taking a Mulligan.

I made a choice. I chose Glass Guy.

This caused me a multitude of problems including getting bashed by one of my friends. It sucked. I cried. All over a stupid guy. Why do smart, amiable, funny women all of a sudden become vicious over men? I've been guilty of it before, but I guess I just don't get that worked up about those kind of things anymore because I don't see the point.

Especially since I realize now I made the wrong choice anyway.

I should always stick with my gut reaction of people. When I first met Glass Guy I thought he was a bit of a snot, and for some reason I changed this opinion (probably his sudden interest in me triggered it). But nope, I was right the first time.

He's just so....high maintenance. I have to do all the work to make up for his extreme awkwardness and I just don't have the patience for it. Why work that hard when I have a nice, smart, sweet guy who's actually unabashedly interested in me? No smoke and mirrors...or smoke and glass, in this case (glass humor!), with the MVP. All my friends love him. EVERYBODY seems to love him. So why, you might be asking, didn't I pick him in the first place?

Well, the answer is a 3-parter.

1. I like guys that suck (or blow. More glass humor!). If you don't suck, I will ditch you for a guy that does. Given the choice between a guy who sucks and a guy who doesn't suck I will pick the guy who sucks every time. Maybe it's because of my commitment phobia. Maybe it's because not knowing whether or not they really give a damn about me makes my stomach flip. Maybe it's because I'm an idiot....

2. The MVP is black, and my Mom kinda doesn't approve. I know, it 2010 and things like that shouldn't matter and color doesn't matter to me but my Mom's approval does...So even though the MVP is much nicer to me and seems more interested, I still favored Glass Guy. Glass Guy drives a truck, wears cowboy boots, listens to old country music (my step-dad is a country musician who covers the classics), and works at the local Farm & Ranch supply. He'd fit right in in Small Town, Kansas where I'm from. The thing is: I don't fit in there.

3. Glass Guy is cuter and we have more in common. He fascinates me. I feel like we "look right" together (aka similar style). Maybe a bit shallow, but true.

So, now I'm starting over and hopefully making the right decision.

Everybody makes mistakes, but I will try and correct mine.

Why then, does getting it right feel so wrong?

Maybe because I've never done it before.....

Signs

I need a sign.

The MVP and I ave gone on a couple little "dates" this week.

First we went out to the Dirty30 to have a couple of drinks, for Katie's birthday....again.

He was great to talk to, he complimented my style, told me I was pretty, and made my life a whole lot more complicated. Why couldn't he have just sucked to hang out with? That would have made the decision much easier, because I'm just not the kinda girl that can do the "dating multiple guys" thing.

Glass Guy was in Topeka blowing glass, of course, so I asked the MVP to go to my Roomie's show with me instead. He agreed in an instant, no hesitation. The show was terribly long and a bit dull, but the acting was good. MVP never ONCE complained and at the end of the night he said that the best part was getting to hang out with me. AWWWWW....

The thing I like about the MVP is that he's from a different country and I feel as if I'm always learning something about another culture. I'm like Sigourney Weaver in Out of Africa.

The problem is, I think he's a bit too sweet for me. It's not that I want an asshole I just want someone who can really dissect a play with me and keeps me guessing a bit.

As I was hanging out with MVP at his house watching Office Space (he has good taste in comedy) and he was playing with my hair (something I love) I realized: I want Glass Guy.

Well, I really realized it during the play when that guy we messed with at the party had a bit part in it. I wanted to text him our little inside joke. It's a bad sign to be thinking of someone else whilst on a date, right?

Glass Guy, the socially awkward, self-proclaimed lone wolf.

The thing is, he's not awkward with me (except on my front stoop but the blame goes to both of us on that one). I just need a sign. A sign as to whether or not he really is interested in me. I don't want to blow off a nice guy like the MVP who clearly wants to date me and will treat me really nice if I'm just wasting my time.

A kiss would do the trick.

But really any sign will do.

I've been scanning the radio trying to see what songs move me, I've been scouring facebook for clues, and I end up feeling just as ridiculous as an M. Night Shamylan movie.

Please, send me a sign.

Black and White

So the MVP has been texting me a lot lately. The problem is, he never tries to make concrete plans to meet, he just wants to text chat all the time and if you know me you know I'm not all that into the phone. Plus he's from Uganda which is totally hot (I'm talking Djimon Honnossu--I'm sure I didn't spell that right, but it's the actor from Blood Diamond--dark-skinned African hot), but it also means he uses a lot of ebonics and I don't understand it half the time, I just pretend like I do and move on. He's a snappy dresser, though. AND he gives me lots of attention. He's always calling me pretty and interesting and asking about my day. My friend Beardy vouched for him and I trust his opinion. He seems like a nice guy and he's even (surprisingly, for someone so athletic) in the arts. He's a graphic arts major. Sounds great for my last couple of months in KS, huh? I mean, as long as he doesn't catch on to the fact that I don't know what he's saying....

So we went out for Katie's birthday last night and I invited the MVP and Glass Guy. Playing with fire, I know, but I seriously didn't think GG would show up.

And he did.

I know I really kinda like him because whenever he walks in the room I feel like I'm going to throw up for about 5 seconds. It sounds like a bad thing, but my stomach just flips so hard it literally makes me nauseous. It brings a whole new meaning to "that guy makes me want to vomit."

Luckily I got a text from the MVP saying he couldn't make it. Of course a text, because god-forbid we see each other face to face and have a real conversation....

Whew. That was a close one.

On the other hand Glass Guy has had my number for several days now and has yet to utilize it. He keeps showing up, though. That has to be a good sign, right?

We played couples pool. I've never played couples anything and it was quite fun.

I know it's supposed to be romantic that whenever we hang out it's like we're the only two people there but I'm starting to feel like I'm missing out on what goes on around me. It's like when a mentally unstable person blacks out and all of a sudden they snap out of it and don't know where they are. It's kinda disconcerting. Like, "what just happened?" (don't worry, I'm not committing any heinous crimes during these blackouts.....that I know of...)

I was feeling sorta brave and so I thought I might ask him to go to my Roomie's last show with me. Then he dropped the bomb: I don't really like theater. Wow. Just like that. I think he could tell I didn't like that because he started backtracking. "It's nothing personal. I'm sure you're great. Maybe I can go...we'll see...What about your step-dad's show? I bet I would like that...When is that?"

I almost fell off my chair.

He WANTS to go to my step-dad's concert? My MOM will be there, and ALL of her friends. Usually I would say no way, no how to this, but I only have a few months left so I thought "what the hell?"

Luckily I think he has to work.

Whew. Another close one.

So at the end of the night he walks me home and he even lets me borrow his jacket because it's cold and then there we are again. On my front stoop. Feeling really awkward.

Please let him kiss me, I thought. Or I bought that third drink for no reason....

He went in for the hug again so I thought I'd be super smooth and give him a little kiss on the cheek to show I was interested, but something went awry and my hair got in the way so I ended up with a mouth full of hair and feeling even more awkward.

That's our MO, everything is great until we get to my front stoop and BAM! We're transported to Awkward-ville. Population: 2.

Katie called me today: "How did your night end?"

"I kissed my hair."

Katie laughed about it all day. At least I made her laugh on her birthday....

I just wish we could get this whole kiss thing outta the way. It makes me almost as awkward as he is.

The MVP just texted me and he wants to hang out tonight. Gasp!

I don't know how I'm going to do this juggling two guys thing. I'm no Katie. It doesn't come naturally me.

Which would you choose?

Black as midnight, athletic, super smooth, attention showering, graphic artist

or

Hitler's Aryan Army look-alike, tall, awkward, sweet, gives me butterflies, glass blower?

Black or White?

Black AND White?