And Now We Play The Waiting Game....

I upped the ante. Gave tattoo guy my number. I've got so little time left. That leaves no time for a slow, claculated courtship process, drastic measures had to be taken.

It's been two days since he's been given said number....nothing yet.

Katie thinks he's waiting for a weekend situation, like a "group thing" (which means he's a bit of a sissy, but oh well). I think after three days if a guy doesn't call or even send a friendly text he's probably not interested.

Note: He has still been commenting back and forth on FB with me.

I'm too impatient for this!

Also Note: He's kinda nerdy, and this is not in any way conceit but according to Katie I am probably the hottest girl that's ever talked to him.

What do you think?

By the by, I know a lot more people read this than I know, so you need to start making some comments pronto, I want some feedback here people!

Single

Tatto Guy is now single.

It's awesome.

We haven't really talked much since that fateful night but we've made a few timid comments on facebook (or at least I have). I don't have the guts to make my staus: Tricia can't get you out of her head... (ellipses, for extra mysterious-ness). But also I don't want it to be misinterpreted by someone else. Which is likely to happen because such is my life.

It was just one of those nights. One of those instant connection situations like in a movie. It was there, and it was magic. I was Cinderella, and my carriage turned back into a pumpkin at midnight (aka when I checked facebook and saw he had a girlfriend). And now I'm gonna take that pumpkin and make a pie.

So what if he dated that girl for possibly years? So what if he's not over it? DON'T CARE.

I like him. I haven't really liked a guy in forever. Like, giddy excited, about a guy. I just don't get that way, but there's just SOMETHING about him....

I've just gotta have him. Or at least try.

And after I move away and we have a tearful, tender goodbye he decides to go back to his not-that-cute ex? So be it. Hey, whatever works.

Game on.

Desperately Seeking Sexy...

Sexy.

What a complicated term.

It's more than just being a person who partakes in sexual activities; it's a state a mind. A way of living.

Sure, there is such a thing as too much. You can be TOO sexy, but then, might I pose the question: Is it really sexy? At what point does it become trashy, slutty, skanky, etc....???

Where does sexy end, and more importantly, where does it begin?

I have been trying to "bring sexy back" as Justin Timberlake would say, as of late. Somewhere between community college and now I lost my sexy, and I think it's high time I picked it up from the lost and found.

Here's what I've been doing to "reclaim" my sexiness:

1. Tanning. Yes, I know it's bad for you. I know UV rays are harmful and cause wrinkles and cancer, but I have a skin condition (not sexy) so it's actually GOOD for my skin problems (dermatologist recommended, hand to heart) and I ALWAYS wear sunscreen on my face. Plus, it makes flab look a little more fab, and I need all the help I can get!

2. Working Out. I've been consistently working out for about 3 months now and haven't been getting results so I bumped the 3 times a week to 4-5 and I'm increasing the intensity. I feel tighter, but I also haven't lost any weight...hopefully that's fat turning into muscle....fingers crossed.

3. Eating better/keeping a food log. Turns out that when you write everything and every calorie down you can pinpoint what your problems are, plus it makes you hold yourself accountable. My goal is to get 2,000 calories or under every day to fast-track my weight-loss. I'm keeping in mind this killer pair of jeans that I tried on recently that looked totally hot on me....except for the first time in my life I had a *gasp* "muffin top." I was horrified. So, those jeans are my goal....hopefully in the next three months....toes crossed.

4. Writing down what I'm thankful for. It's easy when trying to self-improve to get bogged down by what you don't like about yourself....so I'm making sure to write down at least 5 things that I am thankful for everyday....I do it on the opposite side of each day's food log to remind myself that there is light at the end of the tunnel. There is light at the end of the tunnel, right?

5. Sexy-fying my wardrobe. No, I haven't gone out and bought a bunch of "boobie shirts" and I will never, EVER wear leggings as pants (in fact, when I see a girl in such an outfit, I'm always very gracious and ask her if she'd like assistance in finding her pants), but Katie is helping me not look like I'm 23 going on 85. That means I'm not allowed to buy any more cardigans unless they have something "sassy" about them, aka a ruffle, crochet, NO buttons. No old lady vintage from head to toe (vintage as an accent, not an outfit, aha!), and a little black, a little cleavage, a little sparkle, sexy shoes (but still no heels), and voila! A new, sexier me. Still wearing cardigans and loafers (just not as often) but looking hott too.

6. I bought some sexy underthings. Not impractically sexy, but a lacy bra instead of a plain one, and lacy undies. It doesn't really matter if no-one's going to see them but me, if I FEEL sexy, I will BE sexy. (if you build it they will come) Plus, since I work at JCP a new bra and three new sexy pairs of undies (really all you need to jump-start the sexy....also, in case they're so uncomfy I never wear them...) after all my discounts it only cost me $11.

7. Shine, shine, shine. I'm painting my nails, using lipgloss instead of chapstick, and I dyed my hair darker so it looks ultra-shiny. Shiny is good. Like, "ooo look, something shiny!"

8. Going out, to non-theater hangouts. I know every single person in the theater dept like the back of my hand and it's getting old and boring, which in turn, makes me OLD and BORING. So I'm going out with art kids and social science kids and post-grads and meeting a new crowd. The more fresh and exciting my life is, the more fresh and exciting I will seem to others.

9. Smelling good. I can't afford new designer perfume, and I'm out. I ran out of all my lotions from Christmas (which was good, because those rich vanilla scents just made me smell like a bakery or a "candy shop in vegas" as one of my co-workers said. Not appropriate for this warmer weather), so I used a coupon and bought myself some new scents from Bath and Body. My new favorite scent is called P.S. I Love You Spring Fling. I'm looking for a spring fling, so smelling like Spring Fling seems apropo.

10. Flirting. With anyone and everyone. I haven't really done it in a while, and I'm rusty, so I need all the practice I can get before I leave so I can charm the pants off people (literally and figuratively) at my new grad school. Plus it's harmless and fun.

Dear Sexy,
If you're out there, I'm looking for you. You know where to find me ;)

xoxoxoxo

Tricia

Did you see that?!

He just emoticon WINKED at me!



So I accidentally facebook flirted with Glass Guy today. I didn't mean to do it, it just sorta happened. He commented on my staus, I had a witty retort, and playful banter ensued ranging from talk of magazines to Hitchcock. It was delightful, and unexpected, and not technically breaking girl-code, right?!



It put me in a good mood all day.



There are few things I love more than witty banter, especially written witty banter (which I imagine is what led me to blogging). I've also just had the urge to write a lot lately....it comes in spurts.



The thing is, guys like Glass Guy are not guys that you date. First off, my opinion of him as an awkward snot still stands (however, he is a lot funnier and more interesting than I initially thought). Secondly, there's Annie. If she's still into him, there's no way. Not for a few months of I'm-leaving-so-this-is-going-nowhere-ness. Thirdly, he's a pedestal guy. He's too cute, and ever since I went to his senior show and saw what an incredible artist he is I've admired him from afar. I have experience with making my unrealistic crushes a dating reality, and it wasn't pretty (see Joe Thomas).



Okay, say it all works out. Say Annie's cool with it and this whole flirtation isn't in my head and I manage to be un-awkward enough to pull this off. Then what? We kinda date for a while before I move away? What's the point? Plus, I don't think I have enough time to even get past the stage where I quit worrying about people whispering "what's he doing with that goofy, not that hot girl?" whenever we're out in public. I hate feeling like that. Sometimes I think you should always be, or at least feel prettier than the guy you date.



Or, maybe, I could say fuck it. I don't care how this turns out. I'm having fun. And I AM hot and definitely super cool, and I can get whatever guy I want. Maybe I just need to let cocky Tricia out of her insecurity cage. Because I'm smart, and I dress well, and I write wonderfully flirty facebook messages that are funny and filled with sly emoticons and aloof invitations. Maybe he'll take the bait, maybe not. Who cares? I'm outta here.

I do what I want!

Stop it

Tatoo Guy posted a video of Sarah Bareilles singing the blues. Anyone who knows me knows I am obsessed with female singer-songwriters. Above this post on his wall is a post from his girlfriend saying that she loves him.

She's not cute, by the way.

In what world is this fair?

So, I beg of you, all of you wonderful, taken guys out there:

STOP being perfect for me if I just can't have you.

Or at least, STOP fliritng with me when your girlfriends aren't around.

STOP texting me about wanting to see me or being my Mr. Right if you've been in a relationship all this time.

STOP sending me facebook messages about how you would really appreciate me like none of these other guys do .

STOP telling me how pretty you think I am every time you've had too much to drink.

STOP HAVING A GIRLFRIEND.



Nevermind, I should just stop.

Coincidence?

"Four years or so ago
I rode a pony
Called him "Truth"

We didn't know the way
So it took us 'till today
To get here"
-- The Weepies

So here comes the snow. I think Emporia got about 2 feet of snow.

This being Kansas and all the snow came after an absolutely PERFECT blue, cloudless sky spring day with it being warm enough to wear a dress or skirt as long as you had...you guessed it: a CARDIGAN on.

My Roomie and I decided to go to Lawrence. We have had many adventures in Lawrence, Roomie and I. So many crazy times involving light-up shot glasses, friend's couches, crazy curly hair, late nights, and sining songs at the top of our lungs. Lawrence is a place filled with fond memories.

We did some shopping.

I don't really have the money to shop but I needed a bit of a pick-me-up. I think what has really been holding me back all this time is a lack of confidence. I used to be bursting with it. I had this cocky, sassy charm. I used to say that I could get any guy I wanted with my personality.....sometimes I miss that girl, who used to say things like that (and truth be told, she was right, but I should stop talking about myself in the third person now).

Now I'm guarded, and a bit judgemental.

No, a new safari-style shirt-dress can't change what's happened in the last four years or so, but maybe a new dress AND a new top, AND spending time with your best friend might.

Well, it doesn't. But that girl I used to know; the girl who started college with wide eyes and rose-colored glasses may be gone, but a new, happier, just as confident, and just as joyful one is emerging. I can feel it. Not all the time, but when the sun comes out, on days like that, I definitely do.

As we were leaving Lawrence Roomie and I were talking about all these good times we had and I started feeling really sentimental. I said, "Ya know, we'll never have times like that again, here in Lawrence."

Roomie replied, "Yeah, but maybe they weren't supposed to last forever, we wouldn't appreciate them if we could have them all the time."

Me, "But then I start thinking, what if that time in my life has passed? Maybe I'm getting too old to randomly get in the car and have an adventure. I mean, I wouldn't want to keep doing some of the things we did, that was just crazy, but I want to keep being a bit reckless and I don't want to lose my sense of fun and spontaneity. I never want to stop having adventures."

Roomie, "You won't. You'll still have adventures, they'll just be different."

I almost teared up, but I didn't.

I've been having dreams a lot lately. In the past few years I've started having these vivid, horrifying nightmares, but the one's I've had lately haven't been like that. In these dreams I've been pregnant, which I admit to some might be horrifying (and even to me, at this point in my life), but I am always so happy in these dreams. Just ridiculously, serenly happy. I've never been one to get a real kick out of babies or anything but in my dreams I am always with a guy who is so excited that I am pregnant that it fills me with this joy as big as my oversize belly.

I asked Roomie what she thought it all meant, she said that dreams of being pregnant symbolize a turning point in your life. That makes sense, I am definitely embarking on a new, Kansas-free journey, and it is exhilirating, and a little scary, and sometimes even a bit sad. Just like Lawrence, I will never be able to get back those wheat-colored summer days in Small Town, KS where I didn't have a care or a fear in the world. But now, right now, I have the chance to keep living my dreams instead of dreaming them (not the pregnant ones, the successful artist ones). What a wonderful opportunity.

I think there is something to be learned from old-Tricia: That charm, enthusiasm, determination, and a sense of humor can get you whatever you want, as long as you believe it can. I do. Or, at least I will from now on.

I've always had this view that everything happens for a reason.
I decided to clean my room today and found 50 bucks. No joke.

I decided to watch romantic comedies all day and posted it to my facebook wall. Not something I would usually have as a status but I'm beginning to care less and less about the opinions of others and more about my opinion of myself. Giant Guy left me a comment that he was doing something similar, watching John Hughes movies. He also pointed out that we have the same birthday. That is CRAZY to me. I've NEVER met anyone with the same birthday as myself. My Mom's birthday is the day before mine and I've always said that it is a sign of our cosmic, unbreakable connection to each other. It just so happens that I find this out when I 've been thinking a lot about Giant Guy. Like, I can't get this guy outta my head and I don't know why because I don't think I'm really interested in him.

Truth be told though, wouldn't it be fun, since he's Actor Ex's good friend, to start a little drama before I left? Just for kicks? Stir the pot a little....

It'd be interesting to read about, that's for sure.

Who knows what it all means?

Or, is it just coincidence?

Maybe.

But I don't really believe in coincidences.

"And all this time
I felt just fine
I held so many people in my suitcase heart
That I had to let the whole thing go
It was taken by the wind and snow
And I still didn't know
That I was waiting
For a girl on a slow pony home."
--The Weepies

Happy St. Hangover Day!

I arose around ten this morning as the light filtered in through my window to see the clear blue sky of a beautiful spring day, and my head was swimming like there was an ocean filled with hammers inside it. I was sleeping sideways on my bed, and I had fallen asleep in my makeup so it was all over my face and my crisp white pillow. I hate it when I do that, it's so bad for your skin....and your linens.

I got quite drunk last night so I was quite flirty.

Here are my encounters of the night:

I ran into Actor Ex, as he is now deemed. He told me about how much he hated his job that he quit, I told him about grad school, he pretended to be excited and called me "dude" about four times. DUDE, you've been in me, so you don't have to pretend like we are bros, alright DUDE?!

As soon as Actor Ex walked inside Katie's Boyfriend (who I just met officially last night and I really approve of, cool guy, for real) turned to me and goes "You dated that guy? That guy's a tool. What is with you and Katie, and dating these tiny guys? You have the worst taste in men."

Agreed, Katie's Boyfriend, agreed.

I spent some time talking with a friend of Actor Ex. We'll call him Giant Guy, because he's a super tall, big guy. Seriously, like 6'4", at least 250 lbs. BIG GUY....No, Giant Guy. Anyway, he's also a super nice guy. Too nice, probably. He was married, and now he's divorced and sleeping on a couch at Actor Ex's old apt and trying to find a job and starting school next year. Not the achievement level that usually gets me going, but I guess we're both in transitional phases. We didn't really flirt or anything. He just kinda let me nerd out talking about books and GQ. It was nice to be a literature nerd for a bit.

Then Katie and I embarked on the Dirty Thirty, mine and Joel's nickname for a local bar in town called Beer30. Usually I have to be really trashed to go there, and I was, so it was a romping good time.

I got an applicant to be my Mr. Right Now. But then he said he had been reading my blog. I didn't know so many people were secretly reading this. Like my musings are really that interesting, but I started this so I could say exactly what I'm thinking and feeling so if people are going to read it they're just going to have to deal with that. I told him if we hooked up he'd have to expect to be written about. He didn't like the sound of that.

He also asked me if I was really "that angry" about being funny and not being in a relationship that I had to blog about it. I didn't know that my blogs were angry, just honest. Maybe sometimes they're a little frustrated, or a little sad, or a little contemplative, but not angry. Someone who finds these little posts of mine hostile really doesn't get me.

Then I ran into Glass Guy, we'll call him that because that's what he does: he's a glass blowing artist. Apparently every girl in the art department has had a crush on him at some point or another because he's so "mysterious" as Katie says, but I just find him awkward and guarded, and maybe a little snotty. I can't really flirt with him anyway, because one of my favorite girls, Annie, kinda had a thing with him. Yes, there is an unwritten girl code, just like you guys have; and getting with a guy who your friend even kinda likes is definitely against girl code, especially if they have a bit of a history. But, all that aside, there are a few things about Glass Guy that are enthralling. First, his smile. He has one of those lopsided smiles that just drive me crazy, and when he smiles his eyes crinkle up so you can harldy see them. That just kills me. Also, he has a deep voice, which is an odd plus for me. Something about the tone of one's voice....maybe it's from all those years of singing and acting.

I met the owner of The Dirty Thirty last night. He was a large person, and a large presence. I found him very charming. We talked for a while. He called me darlin'. I didn't tell him I thought he bar was repulsive. I was intrigued. My friends filled me in later that he is a bit of a sleaze. Why was I surprised at this? Shouldn't I know by now that I have the absolute worst taste in men? Katie's Boyfriend already told me at the beginning of the night I can't pick guys, did I think I had magically changed within hours?

Yes, I did. Was the truthful answer, but that was probably the Paddy's Punch talking.

So, St. Patty's was all talk and no action, which is fine by me. I got to do some flirting which was fun, except I know I ramble too much and do this stupid thing where I bite my lower lip like it's supposed to be sexy or something when it's really just a nervous habit. Hopefully no one noticed.

I ended the night by drunk dialing my Pseudo Phone Boyfriend, and texting Shawn. Neither responded until this morning. What's the good of a phone boyfriend if he doesn't pick up? Someone should probably take my phone away on nights like that.

Throwing in the Towel

My second-mom Janet, who is also my mom's boss recently got a new car. While buying said new car she met a 30 year old KU graduate car salesman that she thought would be perfect for me. She showed him a picture of me and he said I was lovely. Janet, who's opinion I hold very dear, said that there was just something about this guy that was right for me. She gave me his name so we could connect on facebook. His facebook profile info read as follows:

Activities: Drinkin'
Interests: Drinkin'
Favorite Music: Country
Political Views: Anarchist


I'm sorry, what?!

Things are getting a bit ridiculous over here in Tricia-land when I am being set up with guys such as this.

Oh, and did I mention that his profile picture is of him sticking his tongue through a "peace sign"?

Gross.

I think I'm done.

No more Mister Right Now, no more trying too hard, no more weird druken encounters with my guy friends. It's time to tap out.

I'm a grown girl and I'm perfectly capable of sleeping in a bed by myself.

I just don't like it.

Oh well, I'm outta here soon, right?

All Hope is Not Lost

Me and from now on what we'll refer to as "Tattoo Guy" became facebook friends. He now is mysteriously unattached via facebook. In fact, his profile says nothing in the relationship status. This means he either recently went through a break-up or is super sketchy (as Katie would say). I don't care. What this really means is that maybe, for once, things are going to go my way.

We'll see.

Tomorrow is St. Patty's Day, anything can happen on St. Patrick's Day, right?

I'm reminded of some of my favorite song lyrics.

"Now way November we'll say our goodbyes
When it comes to December, it's obvious why
No one wants to be alone at Christmas time
Come January we're frozen inside
Making new resolutions a hundred times
February, won't you be my Valentine?
And I'll be alright
If this is just 'till St. Patrick's Day."
--John Mayer

EDIT: Nevermind. Facebook made a boo boo or something. He's still in a relationship. Disregard everything......God DAMNITT FB!!!! Quit ruining my life!

I Just Haven't Met You Yet

I met a guy. The fates aligned and I met a guy.

Here's what happened. My dear friends Jeremy and Amanda finally got hitched. So all of us dressed up and went out to see it happen. I, for some reason, NEVER like to go to weddings alone. I almost always find a date, or I don't go.

But I didn't have a date, and went anyway. Here's why.

First there was my pseudo phone boyfriend. He said that he might be on leave then and that he would go with me if he was. I know, I know, you can't make your pseudo phone boyfriend into your walking, talking, real-life date, but I tried. Turns out the military extended his stay in Florida, and he hasn't been talking to me much lately anyway. Maybe he found a hotter girl on chat roulette or something.

Then I asked Shawn. Good, old reliable Shawn. My ex from before I started college and a friend of the family (really the only ex I'm friends with). I thought, "I might be moving home soon, I don't have any friends in Small Town, KS, maybe it's time to reconnect with Shawn"(more on him in the future, I'm sure) But he had his wisdom teeth taken out that week and missed two days of work so he had to work Saturday. He NEVER has to work on Saturday but it's been a long winter and its just starting to warm up so contractors are busy again. Nothing was going my way.

So I ended up alone. I probably could've called Joel (one of my best guy friends), he even looks sharp in a suit, but I wanted someone who would at least appreciate the way I looked in that turquoise Calvin Klein dress.

It was a grand time anyway. Katie (one of my very best friends and personal savior) did the pictures and I did Amanda's make-up as their wedding present. As soon as I was done I said "When Jeremy sees you he's gonna bawl like a baby." And he did, and it was adorable. These are two people really meant to be together, and even cynical old me teared up a bit.

I wore heels, had a few drinks, and still managed to dance. My buddy Andrew danced with me for one song and I danced with Jeremy during the dollar dances. Which basically consisted of us hugging. We did a lot of hugging and laughing that night. There was just an overall sense of joy.

Then we went to the blue house for more celebrating. Blue House is the blue house across from campus where some friends of mine live. I've been trying to get away from theater kids and meet some new people but I decided to stay despite my yawning and mild boredom because Emily's (my next door neighbor and good friend/make-up protege) brother was in town. DAVE.
That's the way you say it: "Daaaave!"

Well, Dave showed up with two friends.
One being this tatooed, pierced ex-boxer who teaches history.

I'm usually attracted to guys of a more sophisticated nature as of late but there was something inherently masculine about him that drew me in, despite his glasses and somewhat-nerdiness. He was fascinating to talk to, and I nearly died when he suggested we change the song to something from Moulin Rouge (my all-time FAVORITE movie) and professed his love for Martin Scorcesse (I definitely have a hard on for the man as well. well, if I could have such things).

At one point in the night I remember him placing his hands on my hips. I think he was just trying to get through the crowd but the feel of a man's hands on one's hips can be quite exhilirating.

He definitely seemed interested in me. We sharred witty jabs and seemed to love all the same things. Granted he had a comic book shirt on, but I'm willing to overlook a few things in my hunt for Mr. Right Now.

Then we started talking books. I wouldn't call myself a nerd but I am definitely a book worm. He loves to read. This combination of interesting features had me intrigued, but when we started talking "Catcher in the Rye" I was sold.

Our goodbye was a bit hasty with no time for pondering seeing each other again, but I went to bed with my head filled with possibilities and asked Emily to try and play matchmaker for me. I woke up still in a fantastic mood this morning.

Then I looked him up on facebook.

In a Relationship.

My heart sank.

Yep, that's my luck.

Mr. Right NOW

As I said before I recently got into grad school. That means that within six months I will be residing in another state. This prospect greatly appeals to me, for a two reasons.

1) Almost immediately after moving to Kansas I wanted to live outside of Kansas. So, needless to say, I am fulfilling a practically life-long dream.

2) I want a boyfriend. Not a fling, a boyfriend.

Wait a minute, you might be saying, you're leaving in SIX MONTHS. Why on earth would you want to start a relationship NOW?!

Well, my friends the time limit is the very reason for my eagerness to jump into coupledom (well that, and I'd really like to have sex). I don't have to worry now about it turning into a major thing. We'll know from the get-go that it will eventually end, so I can just jump right in and maybe even date some guys that I had been reluctant to before because of my committment issues. It's quite liberating.

So, if you're out there, I'm looking for Mr. Right NOW. Mr. Right need not apply, I'm not interested. If you're fun, funny, nice enough, and good in bed, feel free to hop right into my life (and bed) for sixth months of stress-free, no-strings fun anf frivolity.

Please and thank you.

"I feel so gay in a melancholy way...."

"That it might as well be spring" --Rogers and Hammerstein

Spring has sprung.

And it sucks.


Don't get me wrong, I like spring. It's what I like to call "cardigan weather." You don't need a coat but you can't go out without a cardigan and that is my favorite time of year mostly because cardigans are my favorite item of clothing (seriously, my pseudo phone boyf got me a pair of chucks that say "I heart Cardigans"). Everything is coming back to life and the long lost sun emerges from it's winter hibernation. Flowers bloom and the mating season begins.

Bleck.


I can tell it's spring because everyone on facebook is in love. This one girl I went to community college with is so happy and in love she started a blog with her new husband. It's all about them playing board games and cooking and planning on having a baby....excuse me, I need to go throw up.

Okay, okay. As a recent blogger myself who am I to judge what other people want to blog about? Well, it's not just that. It's the sickeningly cute statuses (Omg , I can't believe it's been a year! So in love!), the even cuter couple pictures, and all those damn hearts people are putting on comments, posts, etc. It's enough to make a single girl (or for that matter, a reasonable human being) want to upchuck the off-brand ice cream she's drowning her dateless sorrows in.

By the way, never, EVER check your ex's new girlfriend's facebook. Or your ex's for that matter. Even if it's been a long time, even if YOU broke it off (like that really matters in the long run), even if you're kinda friends.....JUST DON'T DO IT. Also, if they've been dating for over five months, she's not the "new girlfriend" she's just the girlfriend. Deal with it.

So, enough bitching for once, eh?

I've had some good news recently. I got into graduate school. And not just any graduate school but a ridiculously good one that only takes 2 people a year. Just two. And I am one of them.

My most recent ex just quit his job working the night shift at some retail store and can't even get into a community theater show (did I mention he's an actor? feel free to insert any vain, egotistical stereotype...it fits), but he's been dating a girl for about a year now and is hopelessy in love. She's perfect, she's the one, she's everything I'm not. (personally I think he has a dependency complex)

I worked my ass off to get into grad school. Spent tons of time and money. There were buttloads of stress and even some tears, but I did it. I kind of knew I would though, because that's just how I am. I set a goal, work ridiculously hard, and achieve it.

But I'm not happy.

Oh, I guess I'm happy. I have lots of friends, I've been doing professional theater, I have a "real job" I don't hate, and I am going places.

But sometimes.....and more than usual lately, I've been wondering who's really the successful one. I've always focused on me and my goals and my career. I get a high off being the best I can be, but my awards and accomplishments don't play with my hair until I fall asleep. They don't kiss me on my forhead for no reason. They don't tell me that I'm beautiful even if my dress from last summer doesn't fit anymore.

What if I put all this effort that I've put into the rest of my life into a relationship? What would happen?

Would I lose sight of my goals? Would I be wasting my time? Would I be held back from the things I really want in life?

Or would I be happy?

I guess we'll never know.

But I reminded of something my friend Dale, who directed me in a show last summer and with whom I have kept in contact with, said to me:
"It's hard for people who are in theater to marry non-theater people or people outside the arts because they just don't understand that sometimes you love your job more than them."

Those words rang so true to me.

I guess I'll just have to find someone who can live with that.

Or maybe, just maybe.....I'll have to find someone who makes me not want to live like that.

The Dead Zone

I have a pseudo phone boyfriend.

Yes, it is as pathetic to me as it probably seems to you. A few years ago I would've looked at my present situation and been aghast. Now, I guess desperate times call for desperate measures.

Let me clarify by saying that Emporia, KS, where I attended undergrad is like that book "The Dead Zone" by Stephen King (movie starring Christopher Walken. Don't watch it, just FYI) except for guys. I also call it The Abyss, The Black Hole, The Dating Twighlight Zone....etc.

Here's what happened. Emporia is known for being a teacher's college. In fact, it is the number 2 ranked teaching university in the nation (also, the water is really highly ranked for cleanliness, which is nice for filling up your reusable water bottle). Most teachers are female. I didn't go to Emporia for teaching but for theater, which at the collegiate level (despite there being far more roles for men) is also dominated by women. There is something like a 4:1 ratio of girls to guys in Emporia. Take into account the number of international students (I don't know why this is but guys date the Asian girls, and I've never seen someone with an Asian boyfriend. Sad, but true) and gay students and I pump the number up to 6:1. That means in Emporia there are SIX girls for every ONE guy.

It's a guy's dream. I had a pointless gen-ed class where I sat next to this one guy. He had gross greasy hair, pimples, wore an old army jacket everywhere, was obsessed with anime or something nerdy like that. AND smelled a little. In my high school no girl would've even looked at this guy. Then one day we're in class and talking and all of a sudden he's showing me pictures of his girlfriend on his phone. They've been dating for a while, I'm 98% sure she's real, and she's CUTE! This happens all the time in Emporia.

I have a friend we'll call Jen who is tall, leggy, angelina jolie-lipped, smart, and just all-around gorgeous. The guys she dates? Not so much. Why? Emporia.

One time I was out with my wonderful, bitchy gay friend Al (who currently has a boyfriend, because even gay guys can hook up in Emporia) ahd we stopped at a gas station for something or other and spotted a couple guys.
"That one is cute" Al pointed out.
"I think they're both cute" me
"That other one is NOT cute" sassy Al
"What? He's not so bad..."
"No Tricia, he's 'Emporia' cute" Al pointed out to me.
That's when I realized Emporia was getting to me. I was already lowering my standards.
"Oh my god, he is!" and we both laughed, but in a dark comedy sort of way.

Anyway, so I'm talking to my pseudo phone boyfriend last night and he's all like "you're writing a blog? why?"

Why not?

He's in the military and stationed in Flordia by the ocean where it's 60 degrees everyday. I live in Dead Zone, KS. It's been a long winter, and I have nothing better to do.

What's more pressing: Why does a girl who hates the phone and has always touted her independence have a pseudo phone boyfriend who doesn't even seem that interested in her? I have seriously given real boyfriends less of my attention in the past. I am notorious for not returning calls and ignoring texts. My mom calls me "Two-Week-Trish." Now I'm a sap who keeps her crappy duct-taped phone with her almost always. What is happening to me?

I'm getting sucked into The Abyss.

Funny is a Four Letter Word

I am the Funny Girl.

This means I am not the Pretty Girl, or the Stupid Girl, or the Nice Girl, etc. That's okay with me. To be honest, I've worked hard for the title. I've been doing improv for 5 years and to get noticed in a male-dominated field like that is not small feat. Plus, it's safe. It's much easier to make fun of the frat guy who quits talking to me at the bar after about 15 seconds when he spots a cute Asian chick in a sparkly top or an orange-hued blonde with too much make-up on (and I'm a make-up artist, so I like make-up). It's also really fun to make fun of said frat guy to his face while he stares vacantly and nods occassionally. The only thing is that nobody wants to date the funny girl. Oh, I've had guys say that they want a girl that's funny, I've even had guys say that a sense of humor is what they look for most. This is a lie. Because I have seen those same guys laughing incessentantly at the "jokes" of a girl with a really good push-up bra. Yep, those boobs are HA-larious. So, I have compiled a short list of reasons why no one wants to date the "funny girl."

1. If she's truly funny, she's probably smart too, which is another thing guys love to say they want but most of them really don't. I seriously had a guy practically break up with me then and there when he came across my transcript. He said "I didn't know you were so....smart" like being smart was the equivalent to being a dirty dishrag. I replied "Yeah well, I know a lot of smart kids that are all about being smart and they suck so I try not to make a big thing of it." Still dumstruck (ha) he continued "Yeah but you're really--" "Smart, I know" I interrupted as I rolled my eyes, fully aware that the relationship was over.

2. Funny girls are always surrounded by guys. It's a simple equation, funny people flock to other funny people. Most girls aren't funny so: funny girl = lots of guy friends. Lots of guy friends means no guy will approach you. Especially if when they do they are bombarded with jokes and jabs.

3. Guys don't like it when their girlfriend is funnier than them. Enough said.

4. Guys are babies, and often times don't find being made fun of an aphrodisiac. It apparently "emasculates" them.

5. Funny girls are a bit intimidating according to my guy friends. Maybe it's because we're loud. Maybe it's because we won't take your shit. Maybe it's just me.

Anyway, so there's my first attempt at a blog. I'd give it C+ at best. I guess I've established that I'm funny but I'm not willing to promise laugh-out-loud hilarious posts every time, so don't be disappointed. I'll try to do better next time.