Another Successful Interaction With a Man

Long-term readers of my blog are familiar with my verbosity, but I have a treat for anyone out there who might prefer that I include more visual aids to my posts. Today I have not one but 2 videos to illustrate this post.

This one explains where I got the title for the post.


Allow me to explain why I can relate to this clip so much.

I should have seen it coming. That was stupid of me. After what he did on New Year's Eve, I knew in the back of my head he'd do something again. But after two months of blissful dating, I let my guard down. And I paid for it.

For the first two months of this year, I was floating on air. MM was great! He was super into me, we really clicked, he was a great kisser and really fun to be around. He even wanted to be my Valentine and took me out to a really nice restaurant. I bragged to my mom about how how he always turned his cell phone off when he was with me and was always wholly focused on me when he was with me.

The thing was, something about him made me not trust him. Yes, the NYE stunt was part of that. But eventually I began to realize that
A) He was a little too good to be true. Any guy that seems to always tell you what you want to hear is bad news bears, in my experience. He seemed to look for reasons to tell me I was doing something "hot". Last time I checked, a girl watching football isn't "hot". She's just watching football. I think he was just trying to butter me up. He would text me during working hours, telling me he can't stop thinking about me. He told me that seeing me once a week was not enough and he definitely could see me every day. He would talk about taking vacations several months from now and "if we're still together, you're definitely coming with me!" Like an idiot, I lapped all this up like a hungry little puppy. This was my reward for being so forgiving after the NYE let down! This guy was all about me! Thank goodness I was open to giving him a second chance. He was obviously worth it. *mental pat on the back*

and the other thing bugging me, waaay in the back of my mind was....

B) I was not in any way, shape or form, being included in his life. After 2 months of dating, I had yet to meet any of his friends or anyone who knew him at all. And based on a phone conversation with his sister that I overheard, I could tell she didn't even know I existed. I was sitting right next to him when he said he was "just hanging out with a friend". Apparently, despite the fact that he'd seen me with some of my clothing removed and we made out all the time, I still only qualified as a friend. WTF.

Now, I am not a pushy kind of girl when it comes to dating. I am fairly patient with all the various stages of dating. But after 2 months, you don't feel the need to introduce me to anyone you know? Or at least tell people you're seeing someone? I was starting to feel like a secret. For all I knew, he could have some other girl or a girlfriend or who knows what else?! It began to bother me. I could wait on meeting family, but I can't even meet your 2 best guy friends? We can't even double date with them and their girlfriends? Your sister can't even know you're dating someone?

About a month ago, we went to Williamsburg and went to the outlet malls there. I was flattered that he decided to spend his whole day off with me. And you don't drive an hour out of town to spend the day shopping with someone if you don't really like them. I mean, this is something that couples do! We were definitely on the way to being a couple. I could feel it.

But he acted a little funny that day. He seemed really self-absorbed and preoccupied. For the first time, he was on his phone when he was with me. Something crazy at work. But what bothered me the most, I think, was that he was not affectionate with me at all. Come to think of it, he had never been publicly affectionate with me! I started to get annoyed after realizing all of this on the way home. I had made dinner, so he came over to eat with me, and we talked. I dropped a hint about feeling like a secret and wanting to meet his friends. He said that would be fun and we could do it on Saturday. Whew! That's a relief. See, it just hadn't occurred to him yet, that's all. He stayed at my house as late as he possibly could that night (yes, there was serious making-out -- I told you he's an excellent kisser!), and then kissed me good-bye and told me he hoped I would have a good day the next day. All perfectly normal.

I didn't hear from him the next day (a Tuesday), which was normal and fine. But by Thursday night, I was feeling anxious. I texted him. Turns out, he was sick. Ah, yes, of course. No worries. I asked him if he needed anything and he said no. I told him I hope he feels better and went to bed. The next day, I asked how he was feeling. He said he was better, but would probably have to work all weekend to make up some stuff from work. Guess that means hanging out with his friends on Saturday was out of the question. He said that was probably true, but he might be able to finish in time to still go out.

I didn't hear from him on Saturday. On Sunday morning, I log into facebook, and find that his buddies have posted all these pics of them hanging out together the night before. I was crushed.

After moping around most of the weekend, I went into work the next Monday. It also happened to be my birthday. MM texted me to ask how my weekend was. Seriously??! Why do men pull shit like this and then act like nothing is wrong? Do they think that a woman has the memory of a goldfish?

"Well, I'm having a good birthday so far," I replied.
"Oh, I'm such a bonehead! It is your birthday!" he replied.
Yes. It is my fucking birthday, you piece of shit. You are definitely a bonehead, I thought.
I didn't reply.
A few seconds later, he texted me again: "Did you defriend me on FB?"
"Honestly, I didn't think I'd ever hear from you again," I replied.
He claimed to be shocked and confused, despite the fact that he had blown me off for a week. He said he didn't want to have this conversation on my birthday and that he'd call me later in the week. Fine. Whatever.

Two days later, he called and apologized, but the conversation was definitely tense. I was still pretty pissed off and hurt. We caught up briefly and he said he'd call me again later. And that was the last I've heard of him. Which brings me to video #2, an awesome song I just discovered (sorry, I'm probably the last person on Earth to discover this song, so bear with me!) -- this song pretty much captures exactly how I felt at the time:


Considering I am 33 and this is the first guy I have dated (heck, the first guy I have WANTED to date) in 2 and a half years, it was kind of a blow to me, I'm not gonna lie. I'm just now feeling like I am over him and it took me several tries to write this post. I've been running. A lot. I think I've lost about 10 pounds, actually. But I digress.

I'm just so mad at myself. I broke all my own rules:
1. Don't date a guy who is ok with disappointing you
2. Don't date a guy who makes you cry
3. Wait, wait, wait and wait some more to get nekkid with a guy. At least until you have girlfriend status and have met some of his friends.
4. If a guy tells you everything you want to hear, it's because he's blowing smoke up your ass and it's coming out through your empty, idiot head and into your ears.
5. Listen to your gut. My gut said, "Don't date him, you will regret it." I chose to ignore this particular loud-and-clear gut warning. Dumb, VB. Very dumb.

The part that hurt the most was the disappearing act. Right around my fricking birthday. At the age of 34, you'd think a guy could grow a pair and break things off quickly, honestly and humanely. But no. He pulled a stunt that no one had pulled on me since I was in my early 20s. When I realized this, that's when it all started to make sense: As a recent divorcee, he is starting to date again after being off the market for approximately 7 years. So emotionally, he's a frat boy. Which is why he basically hit it and quit it. I'm just one in what will probably be a long line of new toys for this boy. (Like the rhyming? Cuz I can keep going. No? Alright.) Glad I can be of service in helping you get over the fact that your ex-wife left you. I'm here to please. No really. My feelings don't matter. Just do whatever you want to me. Because I have s-u-c-k-e-r written in Sharpie, right across my forehead, apparently.

But let's talk about possible reasons his wife may have left him, shall we? Because this list made me feel waaaaaaay better once I put it together.
1. bad credit
2. baggage. Baggage for days and days. And I'm not just referring to his 2 kids and ex-wife. (I actually don't mind the kids, just for the record.)
3. beer gut (normally I don't mind that, but he should really hit the gym)
4. possible binge drinker (based strictly on his own descriptions of fb photos)
5. Well, I can't really put it any better than Lily Allen, so here's a song you can listen to which describes many of the things I am too nice to spell out directly to you. *ahem*

After my moping phase was done, I got to the point where I had to decide the extent to which I wanted him erased from my life. FB was already taken care of, thankfully, so I would be prevented from stalking. Then, I got a new phone, so all my old text message conversations are all gone. But do I delete the number, exposing myself to a surprise call from an unrecognizable number? Or do I keep it there, as a depressing reminder of yet another failed relationship, so at least if he calls, I will know not to answer? I could fight off the temptation if he ever called. At least I wouldn't get caught off guard.

Wait.

I had a better idea. I thought of a way to make sure I would not want to answer the phone if he called. I wouldn't want to answer because I would change his name into something that would remind me of why I have no interest in ever talking to him again. A genius moment, for sure. Every time I think about it, I grin like a fat kid at Baskin Robbins. I'll delete it entirely one day, but for now, I will enjoy the daydream of seeing his new name come up on my phone.

Tiny Penis.

New Year's Peeve

Greetings from Virginia! I will fill you in on my new life here later, with details about The Most Frustrating and Neverending Move Ever in the History of Relocations, The Magical Weight Loss Phenomenon and The Vague Job with Unavailable Boss (Through No Fault of Her Own). All you need to know at this moment is that

A) I love Richmond already.
B) My love life has already gone to shit, if you can believe it. Luckily, this has not impacted A (see above). Yet.

You may have noticed that it is almost 9pm on New Year's Eve. And I am blogging. In my jammies. Alone. What, did you think things would be different, now that I am out of horrible Savannah? That just because I am closer to my family and finally back where I feel at home that my romantic endeavors would be any different than they always have been? Or perhaps it's because last year's NYE was absolutely amazingly fun and awesome? Oh, my little naive readers. You know I can't let this year end without yet another crash-and-burn tale from my dating life, or lack thereof. Although I got down to the wire, I did manage to squeeze one final story into 2011 for you.

2011 started with a great dating story and it will end with another. Ok, I guess last year's NYE wasn't totally amazing and fun by the time it was over. But it most certainly started off that way, and it was a helluva lot better than the way this one is shaping up. Let me explain.

Thanks to the intervention of several friends and/or relatives, I was talked into (read: dragged kicking and screaming) signing up for eHarmony (emphasis on "harm") late last summer. Since you pay for it 3 months' at a time, I had completely forgotten that it would automatically renew itself, so after 3 months of guys who didn't even sound good on paper, I got to -- surprise! -- get automatically charged for another 3 months' of depressing dating prospects! Well, by the time I realized that this had happened, I was in the midst of leaving Savannah to move to Richmond. And they don't do refunds. So I had another 3 months' worth of prepaid virtual dating to burn through. Ever the Pollyanna/mental nimrod/glutton for punishment that I am when it comes to dating, I decided I would just update my eHarmony profile to list Richmond as my location and keep on trying. I am new in town. What else was I going to do with my free time?

Well, I was very pleasantly surprised, let me tell you. Not only were the men better looking in Richmond, but they were better educated, too, with more interesting jobs. Gone were the Savannah hipster bartenders who looked like they don't bathe and the desperate-for-any-female military men. (I do support our men in uniform, heck, my brother is a vet for pete's sake, but what is with their desperation to get girlfriends? It is seriously freaky. I wish they would work on that, collectively.) The guys in Richmond seem...pretty great, actually! Woo hoo!

There were a few that seemed pretty good, but one stood out above the rest. MM was just the right age, looked like he knew how to have a good time and was pretty good looking. I had looked at his profile about 3 times before I realized that in this one photo, there was a kid. He looked so good in the photo, I literally didn't even see the kid, who turns out to be one of his daughters. Yes, he has 2 daughters and an ex-wife. That's a decent amount of baggage, but I like kids and I am trying to be more open minded about stuff like that. I haven't been dating much lately (read: at all...for 2 years....). I just wanted someone who seemed like fun. So we started emailing, which progressed to texting.

He was great! He was flirtatious, funny and seemed interested in me. He asked me out and we booked a date. We were going to meet for dinner in The Fan, which is the old home/cool boutiques/best restaurants area of Richmond. I was pretty stoked. It was my first date in *ahem* over 2 years (except for the blind date where I was a cougar and we didn't really hit it off anyway, so I am not even going to link to that post). I had an outfit picked out and was kind of excited to do some in-person flirting with MM.

That is, until he canceled on me the day before. Something about work being really crazy and he had to work late on the night of our date. Ok, well, everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt, I thought. It's the holidays, and everyone is a little crazy right now. So we rescheduled. And then I cried a little, because I was so disappointed. Normally, I have a rule against dating guys who make me cry, but since this was a work thing, it wasn't his fault. So we ended up just texting for another week. (I began to get annoyed at the texting after a while...why not just call me? So much easier and less sketchy.) Things got very flirtatious, though. It's so easy to flirt via text...where was I?

Our first date went well...even though he was a little bit late. (Again, I try to give people the benefit of the doubt on first dates. They can be nerve-wracking. So I let it slide. He had texted me to say he was running a little late, so that helped.) The food was good and we had good conversation, but what was odd was the complete and total lack of flirting going on. And he was sitting a little farther away from me than I would have preferred. This, from the guy who, earlier in the week, was asking me some very PG-13 questions via my phone (some I would not even answer because they were a little too personal). This same guy, who had been talking up a big storm about kissing me, was acting like we were on a totally blind date. It was very odd.

He also did most of the talking, which is one of my first date pet peeves. I like a healthy split of getting to know each other, not the entire sordid story of why your marriage broke up. All I asked was how long he had been divorced. I didn't really need to know that she cheated and lied and all that other stuff. It's not really any of my business and made me a little uncomfortable.

I switched topics and asked him about his family. He describes his mother as "manipulative and controlling" and I could see a little red flag pop up. Now, anyone who knows me at all knows that my mother drives me nuts and I believe The Czarina to be a major control freak, but I would never describe her as manipulative, and I certainly wouldn't tell any of that to someone I just met. This, combined with his description of his ex-wife and a couple of bad dates he'd been on recently caused me to make a joke about how he'd bad mouth me later, too. He assured me I was a very pleasant surprise and that I was as attractive in person as I was in my photos. That was a relief. I decided that I would keep my ears peeled for more misogynistic comments, but the little things he said weren't instant deal breakers. For all I knew, it could have been nerves.

I decided to focus on how good looking he was and how good he smelled. And how to get him to sit closer to me. I decided to take off my jacket, exposing a black sequined top that was cut just low enough to be date-worthy, but not slutty. I could feel his eyes right where I wanted them to be. And although he did angle his body towards me a little more and put his arm on the back of the booth, his rear remained firmly in place...too far away for any serious flirting to take place. Rats. I guess that's what I got for telling him the he's not allowed to kiss me on our first date. Oh the joys of trying to pretend to be good when I really don't want to be..........

Our date got better as the night wore on. Aside from the comments about his mom and ex and my unsuccessful attempt to get him to scoot closer, it went well. It went so well that he asked me for a 2nd date just before hugging me goodbye. I was stoked.

Then, all this week, he went back to the vicious flirting and regular texting. I told him I was tired of texting and just wanted to talk, so he called me. After the phone call, he texted me to say how much he likes hearing my voice on the phone. He even asked my favorite question in the whole world: "When can I see you again?". *sigh* I love that question. At this point, I am thinking we are definitely having a super hot makeout session on Date #2. Even if I have to wear a super slut-tastic shirt this time. I can't take it anymore.

Two hours before he's supposed to pick me up for our second date, he texts me.

Would you be pissed if I asked you if we could reschedule for next week?

"If you have to ask that question, you already know the answer, douchebag," I thought. I texted back: So you're canceling on me again?

I am so sorry, he replied.

At this point, I am about to punch a wall I am so pissed. I don't reply. When I get home from work, he texts me again: I am so sorry. If you don't ever want to talk to me again, I totally understand.

Now, I am not stupid. I know that if you really liked someone, you would never say that, out of fear they'd take you up on the idea. He wanted out, but didn't want to be the bad guy. This guy has really mastered texting. He uses it to say all sorts of things he doesn't have the balls to say in person. Despite texting me every day, despite all his little innuendos about sleeping with me, despite the compliments he gave me, despite asking me out a 2nd time...he wanted out. Why, I don't know. And I never will know. Because I replied with

Good. Because I don't.

The worst part was, he never replied to that text.

Bringing Sexy Back

Happy New Year!!!! I am so glad it's 2011. I don't know if it's because of my determination to get back to the old me or if it's because of my fabulous New Year's weekend, but I am so happy and optimistic about everything right now. I know this will be a great year. I can just feel it!!! Warm fuzzies, everyone. I am Suzie Effing Sunshine right now!!!!!!

Sorry, I will take it down a notch.

But I have super awesome news!!!! And I need your help.

You see, there is (drumroll, please) Boy News. And true to form, I either messed up or I just completely do not understand the opposite sex. Still. * sigh * I know. But where would this blog be, if it weren't for my dating/hook-up antics?

New Year's Eve was just going to be another VB-sits-on-her-couch type of weekend, until I began to miss MJ and remembered that Mr. Bill was having a party. And what is New Year's for if not hanging out with old friends? So I told them I would come up. MJ informs me that Rocky (a member of The Rat Pack, if you remember those posts -- if you don't know what I am talking about, you should search for these posts in my archives) was coming to SC for New Year's Eve.

And he was bringing a buddy of his.

"Anyone I know?" I asked, ever-so-innocently.

"Nope, this one's a new one," she said.

Hmmm. He will probably be cute. Or at least fun. Definitely worthy of leg-shaving, I thought, as I packed a "boobie shirt" to wear when we went out for New Year's. [Side note: does anyone else call them "boobie shirts"? Or is it just me?]

Rocky's friends are always cute and fun. I was starting to get a little excited about this. So I went to bed kind of excited for my short drive the next day.

I arrived in Columbia just in time for a late lunch with MJ, Rocky and his friend, who I will dub NYE Guy. NYE Guy was cute, and extremely funny, as I soon found out. Later, I would discover that he is also kind of geeky (he likes to go to museums!) -- <3 Swoon <3

I started to get that feeling that it was going to be a great weekend. WOOT!

After eating, we went back to MJ's house and hung out for a bit before getting ready for Mr. Bill's party. I put on my boobie shirt and slapped on some extra eyeliner and heels. What? What was that? I felt kinda....hot. What a great feeling. It had been so long since I've felt that way. This feeling could best be described as the boring, depressed iceberg version of VB melting back into happy and exciting VB.

I was bringing sexy back.

So we head to Mr. Bill's. It was really great to see him, as well as a couple other people I knew. My only regret is that I didn't get a chance to talk to Mr. Bill as much as I wanted. So Mr. Bill, if you're reading this -- hi!!!! I spent most of my time at the party laughing with MJ, Rocky and NYE Guy, as well as a girl I will call "Other MJ" and her hilarious best friend who I will call Vietnam. We were our usual perverted selves, and there was a joke about empty beer bottles which even I cannot repeat. Hilarity and antics ensued, in other words.

Soon, it was almost time for the ball to drop. Rocky began asking everyone who they are kissing at midnight. I was sitting next to NYE Guy and when Rocky asked him, he turns to me and informs me that he wanted to kiss me. I giggled like a 12 year old. And so he did. And it was great.

Not long after, we all took the party to Art Bar, a fun bar in downtown Columbia. There was a masquerade theme happening there, so we had fun with all the masks laying around. NYE Guy and I kept sneaking away to dark corners to make out. Yay! So far, 2011 was rocking.

Fast forward to 4am, when I am still awake (!) and still in a good mood (!). But all good things must come to an end, and it was time to go home. So I drove MJ, Rocky, NYE Guy and Vietnam back to MJ's house. Shortly after that, NYE Guy and I are continuing our make-out session, and it was so much fun! He is so fun....sorry, I can't go into details.....no way to explain without being overly descriptive....ah, memories....where was I? Oh yes, so we didn't do anything R-rated or anything, but that was mostly due to the fact that it was 5am and we were exhausted! After messing around for a bit, he realized that we could just continue this the next night -- hooray for 3 day weekends!!! So we fell asleep....

...and picked up right where we left off in the morning when we woke up!

...but still did not *ahem* complete the transaction, if you get my drift. No worries. There was still another night to go! Yes. Best weekend ever.

He and I got up (at 1pm)and joined the others for food and then all 4 of us went to a museum. After that, we ate and then went back to MJ's to watch some movies. Soon, it was time for bed (YAY!) because the guys had to drive back to NYC the next day. I don't think I have ever been so excited to put on my jammies ever in my whole life. Especially with the hope that they would soon be removed by this yummy beefcake funny guy. So I get into bed while he's brushing his teeth. He climbs in and....

wants to spoon.

W.

T.

F.

Ok, fine, I can meet him halfway, I thought. I nestled in closer to him. Nothing. I made a little moan. Nada. Time for something a little more obvious, I thought. I grabbed his hand and put it on my boob. "Awesome," he said.

And then he promptly fell asleep.

Ok, yes, I know he was probably tired, but so was I. And since when do guys pick sleep over sex? This was so lame. When he started snoring in my ear, I gave up and fell asleep.

The guys left very early the next morning, so I went back to bed after saying goodbye in my sleepy haze. No smooching, even. This is so lame, I thought as I fell asleep.

When I got up, MJ and I decided to get breakfast and get a pedicure to debrief on the night. When I told her about my end of things, she tried her best to help me figure out a reason for my rejection, but we are both at a loss as to why he just wanted to spoon the 2nd night.

By the end of the day, he had friended me on facebook. 3 days later, I messaged him to thank him for posting all the great photos he took from that night. He replied right away and told me that he doesn't like messaging on FB and that I should text him. Cool! I thought. Maybe there is more?

I didn't have time to text him then, so I texted him the next night. I wish I could say that we had a super hawt flirty conversation, but no. We ended up talking about the weather. Why would you ask a girl to text you, only to talk about the weather??? Plus, it was one of those conversations where I felt like I was interviewing him. Hello! Conversations require questions from both parties! It's called "getting to know someone". So I took this to mean that he didn't want to get to know me. He's just not that into me. I get it. Fine. Closure. Done.

But then he texted me last night! To talk about beer! Who is this guy??? Argh!

Please feel free to weigh in with your opinions, because I am thinking of re-naming this guy Mr. Mixed Signals. I invited him and Rocky down here for St. Patty's Day. I guess we will see if they come down. Do you think he likes me but he's just bad at flirting? Should I be more obvious w/flirty texts??? Who am I kidding. This is classic Just Not That Into Me.

It's good that I am blogging right now, because it is preventing me from messaging him on FB. Must. Fight. Temptation. MJ thinks I am reacting like this because I haven't met anyone in a long time and I'm just overreacting. I don't know. All I know is that I was not done making out with him!!!! And he makes me laugh. A lot. *sigh*

Alright, here's the part that is (almost as) cool. Ever since our little make-out sesh, I have felt like sex on a stick. I think I just needed some validation or to break the ice or something. I feel like I have come back to life! I am happy, I feel like a hot babe, I suddenly have all this confidence. It's wonderful! I should be slutty more often. ;)

Which brings me to my New Year's Resolution:
The be sexier.....and slightly sluttier.

This is the BEST resolution ever. Because it's a way more fun way to diet and exercise. I have managed to fool my brain into thinking this is fun. I am fully embracing the Hot Girl Lifestyle. And it's so much fun! I went for a run yesterday -- over a mile! And it was great! My whole goal is to never be home -- Hot Girls are out busy doing stuff and meeting people. Oh crap. Hot Girls also go to bed by this time of night....unless they are making out. I should go, y'all.

2011 is gonna be a great year. I can feel it.

Karma Has Some Serious Explaining to Do

I think CN and I are paying for all of our past evil deeds here in Savannah. I'm beginning to wonder if this town is cursed. We had the weekend from hell.

Friday night, his Jeep was broken into. It sucked, but the good thing was that the perpetrator just unzipped his soft top, rather than cutting it, which would have been an expensive repair. And all they got were about 20 CDs. So as far as car break-ins go, it was as good as it gets. But you still get upset and feel violated. He was pretty pissed.

We didn't discover the break in until Saturday morning, as we were on our way to Columbia to move his stuff out of his house and bring it down to Savannah. Filing the police report delayed us by at least an hour. Yeah, we know it's kind of silly to file a police report over some stolen CDs, but CN's going to call his insurance company to see if he can get reimbursed. And who knows, maybe if a pattern pops up, having our report on file will help the police nab this guy.

We didn't start packing up the U-Haul until around noon. I was thinking it would take us maybe 4 hours to pack it up. But I didn't realize I was moving with the Dawdle Brothers, also known as my boyfriend and his buddy. They spent 2 and a half hours taking CN's washer and dryer over to his buddy's house. (It was his gift from us for helping us move.) We didn't finish packing until 9pm that night. For Pete's freaking sake.

Then on Sunday, I went to work (yes, I now work the occasional Sunday.) While I was at work, CN's mom called to tell him that she had looked out the back window of her house to see her dogs attacking her cat, so she ran out of the house to save her cat. On the way out the door, she had a bad fall and had skinned her knees, hurt her back, and cut open the back of her head. She probably should have gone to the emergency room to get checked out, but she couldn't because her husband is on his death bed. Yeah. CN's dad is not eating or speaking at this point, which is not a good sign. Not at all.

"What are you and Virginia doing this coming weekend?" she asked him.

CN told her that we are going to my cousin's wedding in Chicago.

She told him that is probably not a good idea and that she doesn't think he should go out of town right now, because of the state his dad's in.

So when I got home, CN told me that he's not going to the wedding, but I can go without him if I want. But I can't have fun without him! One of the reasons I was so excited to go was so that he can meet some of my extended family. And I can't enjoy myself, knowing that he's all bummed out about his dad. He still wants me to go, and The Czarina wants me to go (I am one of the few people from our branch of the family going to the wedding, so I need to represent, yo.), but I think I will feel guilty if I do. Besides, I hate driving in Atlanta and that's where I'm flying out.

So I really didn't know what to do yesterday. I'm looking at non-refundable tickets, a sick (practically) father-in-law, a bummed boyfriend and a favorite aunt who was REALLY looking forward to seeing me and meeting CN. Argh. I hate making choices like this. And the timing? Couldn't be worse. Not that there's a great time for his dad to get really sick.

I got home from work yesterday to find CN watching tv. And a kitchen full of clean dishes. Which made my day, because I HATE washing dishes by hand. He's the best, what can I say?

"How did you have time to wash the dishes?" I asked."Didn't you have to work today?"

"Nope. I called my boss and told her about my dad. She told me to go ahead and take the whole week off. I'm going to go see my family tomorrow, and I'll be there the rest of the week. Hopefully by Friday, I will know what's going on and how he's doing, and I might still be able to go to the wedding with you," he explained.

YAY! Er, maybe. I guess we will have to see. Something good has to happen, right? Aren't bad things only supposed to happen in 3s?

Popping Up: Ring Talk

Alright, I've been leaving you hanging long enough. I was hoping to have other interesting stories to share with you, too, but unfortunately, my life is pretty ho-hum right now. But you probably just want to know about the ring stuff, anyway, right? That's what I thought. So if, after reading this, you have any advice or insight into this situation, please share it with me. I'm a little frustrated and confused, as you will see.

So about three weeks ago, I was at the gym on a Saturday morning. While I was there, CN decided to check out the local flea market. While he was there, he saw a man selling Boston Terrier puppies and a French Bulldog. Knowing that I am a big fan of these two breeds, he told me about them when I got home from the gym. He asked me if I wanted to go see them. I said I would.

The puppies were, not surprisingly, adorable. And the French Bulldog was an adult female, all black. She was also gorgeous. And $600. The puppies were about $450. Needless to say, I did not buy any of the dogs for several reasons:

1. I don't know who the hell this flea market salesman is. For all I know, he could have stolen someone's dogs. Or the dogs could be in poor health.
2. I would rather get a rescued dog from a Boston Terrier or a Frenchie rescue organization. Or even a mutt. Homeless dogs need good homes!
3. I do not have the time or patience to deal with teaching a puppy to be house trained.
4. It is money I do not have to spend right now, anyway.
5. After the whole Toby thing, I really need to take my time and be 200% sure about getting a 2nd dog. It costs a lot to take care of two, not just financially, but my house gets extra dirty, it takes longer to care for them and walk them, etc. Although I love the idea of having a playmate for Sammy, it's a big decision and not one I take lightly.

But it was still fun to look at them. The adult female Frenchie is exactly the dog I would love to have, too.

Later on that day, CN and I were at Wal-Mart, and we talked about how cute the flea market dogs were as we shopped.

"Yeah, I thought about surprising you with one of the puppies," he said. (Hear those points racking up for CN? The man knows good gifts, I'm telling you. Even if it did piss all over my house, I would have been totally stoked to have a little puppy.)

"OMG, don't you DARE spend that kind of money on me! That is just ridiculous. Besides, those dogs were waaaay overpriced," I replied. (I know no men reading this will believe me, but I really was glad he didn't spend that kind of money on me. I would be racked with guilt.)

"Yeah," he replied, "I thought that I could either get you a dog, or I could get you a ring. I figured you'd rather have the ring, right?"

Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather! I was basically speechless, which doesn't happen to me very often. I just nodded in agreement and rambled something out of my mouth. I don't remember what I said!

This came out of the blue for me. Every time CN and I watched something about marriage or engagements on tv, he said every time, "WOW, I can't believe how quickly they got engaged! People shouldn't get engaged until they've been dating at least two years! That's just too soon!"

Whenever he would say this, I would sort of mentally sigh. I mean, let's face it. He and I are really good together. We are crazy about each other. We both agree this is by far the best relationship we've ever been in. And I'm a 29 year old woman. I want to get married. Yesterday.

So, based on his reaction to engaged couples on tv, I have always just sort of expected that we would never talk about this idea for a while. I have been thinking seriously about exactly how long I am willing to wait around. Am I willing to wait for 2 years? 4 years? I have been trying to avoid the topic, because I know how it freaks guys out. But I have to admit, I'm reaching that, "Ok, so exactly where is this going?" point. I have been trying my best not to bring it up.

But lately, it's been popping up. Sometimes, he brings it up. Sometimes, I start an innocuous conversation that dances around the topic. Sometimes, a conversation about our futures will turn into conversations about buying a house together, moving somewhere together, having kids together, long term financial plans...but up until a few weeks ago, nothing has been said about marriage or engagement stuff. He has felt comfortable talking about houses, kids, moving, etc. But not actual jewelry purchases or formal ceremonies involving multi-tiered cakes.

And now, we've had more and more of them. And at least 3 conversations about kids-- even down to baby names. And at least two about engagements. He emails house listings to me -- "Look at this house! We can afford this!" Maybe my coworkers' prediction is right: they have all been saying I will be engaged by the end of the year. (I personally am doubting this, at this point. Maybe next summer, at the earliest. If I don't screw things up. If he has more money than I know about. If pigs start flying.)

So naturally, I am a little excited about this, even if it's just talking and wishing. :D

But I'm also frustrated, because whenever I bring up anything about the future, he starts to make jokes about me nagging him or pressuring him or rushing things. The other day, he said, "Gah! If you keep talking about it, you won't know if I do it because I want to or if it's to shut you up and get you to stop nagging!"

Note: I am not nagging. I have not asked for anything, nor have I repeated any sort of request. I am not an asker or beggar or ultimatum-making kind of girl. Anytime the words "engaged" "ring" "wedding" or "marriage" come out of my mouth, suddenly I am a big nag. It's ok for him to talk about stuff, but I am not "allowed" to start the conversation -- only react to what he says. ARGH. He only does this to irritate me. I know it.

Although he is joking, I go ahead and just back off and change the subject. Now, I am totally avoiding any discussions about the future in every sense of the word. I am not going to let a little double standard mess things up for me. LOL

But it is a little frustrating for him to open up a door, but refuse to let me talk about it!!!! I am not known for being quiet!!!! Or patient!!!!

MJ thinks he is testing me. Feeling things out, as it were. I think he is blowing smoke up my ass. But that's my inner pessimist talking. What do you think? Is he testing me? Is he being serious? How do I handle this? I need to relax, don't I?

The Stalker

I have mentioned my stalker before. See here and here.

If you look at the dates on those posts, you will see that he's been bothering me since at least March 2007. Thankfully, it has not been continuous because he doesn't attend school every semester. I had kind of forgotten about him, because he wasn't here for the spring semester or the summer. But now, he's back. Every Monday and Wednesday, when he's got classes, he camps out in the library pretty much all day long. (We have learned that his mom drops him off in the mornings and then picks him up when she gets off of work. So he doesn't have a car, which is GOOD.) When he's here, I have to strategically avoid him and hope that he won't follow me to my car. This is not a good working environment!!!

He came up to the desk the other night and asked if he could talk to me. (Unfortunately, I stupidly told him my first name a long time ago, before I knew he would give me the creeps.) My coworker informed him that I had left for the day. But he creeped her out so much that she emailed me about it. He gives everyone the creeps around here, but for some unknown reason, he has become fixated on me, especially. In addition to dealing with his creepiness (staring, lurking, hanging out for no apparent reason, smacking his lips incessantly), I have also had to endure personal questions about my boyfriend and love life. It's pretty evident that this guy has some screws loose, so in a way, I have some sympathy for him. Which is why I have, in the past, sugar-coated my responses to his nosy and inappropriate questions.

As you can probably guess, this only encouraged him. Despite my heavy hints to leave me alone, he still wants to talk to me. It culminated with him finding my myspace page last April and emailing me a bizarre email. Since he was not here at school at the time, I didn't worry about it too much. But I kept the email he sent me, just in case. (When he is not at school, I do not have to really worry about him, as he does not have a car and lives on the other side of town. So the good thing is, he cannot follow me home or anything like that.)

Fast forward to last week, when he asked my coworker if he could talk to me. After hearing that he's now bothering everyone, and not just me, I have decided that I have had enough. In addition to his creepiness, he has been confrontational with some of my coworkers in the past. He's got a mouth and isn't afraid to get mouthy whenever one of us asks him to be quiet or obey the library rules. My coworker and I were talking about his attitude and ultra-creepiness the next day when she reminded me that some criminal records are considered public information here in SC, and were therefore, online. So we looked him up.

Here's what we found: disorderly conduct, domestic violence (multiple offenses against his own mother), resisting arrest, driving on a suspended license and assaulting an officer. And he's spent some time in jail. His rap sheet goes back to 1998, when he was still in high school.

After reading that, I was officially freaked out. If it had been one minor offense, I would not have really worried about it. But to see multiple offenses, some of which are violent, really worried me. He has the ability to turn violent. Against anyone. This guy has a temper, and I know that stalkers do not deal well with rejection. Grrrrrrrrrreat.

I knew I had to do something. But what??? Going to the police and getting a restraining order would only make me a target for revenge. He would know I am the one who filed it. And he could come into the library and totally wig out and/or shoot me or something. Or ramp up his efforts to talk to me. (Stalkers often see restraining orders as challenges to overcome. Yes, I did some research. I'm a librarian -- what did you expect?)

CN wanted to come to campus and follow him into the men's room with a crowbar. I told him that would not be necessary. But I appreciated the thought. He offered a less-violent, more legal idea -- how about he just come to campus and talk to the stalker? I turned down this idea. The last thing I need is for CN to be a target, too.

I decided to go to the office here on campus that deals with problem students. That way, it would be the school that is making the complaint, and my name would not be involved. I was pretty sure that he'd been causing problems around campus, so I was thinking maybe my statement would be the straw that could break the camel's back. If enough people complained, they'd have to do something, right???

I met with one of the student services peeps and told him everything. I even brought a print-out of the strange email he had sent me. When I informed him of my stalker's rap sheet, he looked at me in amazement. "How did you know about all that?" he asked. I told him it was public information. He made some scribbles in his notes, I assume listing all his criminal offenses. He said his office is very familiar with this student and they are "keeping an eye on him", whatever that means. He told me that if all he's doing is being creepy, they can't really do anything. He had sympathy for me, but he's right -- it's not a crime to be a wierdo. I knew the student services office had their hands tied until I could prove my stalker refused to leave me alone or did something violent. Unfortunately, this is the world we live in. And I understand that. But I at least wanted it on record that I had made a complaint.

But he did tell me that this student does have some mental problems, and that as long as I am firm but respectful, I should have some success in getting him to leave me alone. The student services guy said that other people on campus have had success with this strategy. He told me to always keep my phone with me, no matter where I am on campus. He also told me to never walk to my car alone. He also advised me to write down every encounter I have with him, including the date and time and place and what was said, so that we can start keeping track of everything. Yes, I realize now that I should have been doing this all along, but I stupidly didn't take this guy seriously. Luckily, I have mentioned him in this blog, which will help me at least report how long it's been going on.

According to their records, he's never been violent on campus, just mouthy. "There's a first time for everything," I thought. So I informed him that the only reason I was talking to his office instead of the cops was because I didn't want my name on a restraining order. I didn't want to make myself a target. I also said that if he didn't have a violent criminal history, we wouldn't even be having this conversation. I had really wanted to go straight to police, to be honest.

Anyway, I am waiting to hear back from his office about what we can do. I told him I would like it if he was banned from the library entirely, if possible. And without my name specifically involved. Ideally, he would be kicked out of school! Until then, I have to just watch my back, be really firm with him and make myself more unavailable online. I am going to remove even more personally identifiying information on my myspace and facebook accounts. It can't hurt.

What makes me angry is that the whole office didnt' even know about his criminal record!!! You would think that after the Virginia Tech shootings, we would not have to deal with crap like this anymore! I mean, I know the school needs to make money via tuition, and I believe in privacy laws and giving people 2nd chances to turn their lives around, but at what cost? I'm not getting the impression this guy is interested in behaving himself or trying to overcome his bad past decisions. I think he's a potentially violent stalker who could flip at any moment and should not be allowed on campus. And I'm a little angry at how vulnerable my place of employment is leaving me. Who knows what other wack jobs are roaming around out here?! If I'm at risk, so are all of my coworkers. I hate that they basically wont' do anything until it's too late. That is a crappy policy. Have we learned nothing after Virginia Tech????

A Light at the End of the Tunnel

This month is going to suck. Not only do I have to finish up the Big Suck-Ass Project here at the library by the end of the month, but Dildo's is still working me over 20 hours per week, and it's not going to change. And my dumb manager got my schedule wrong -- I'm supposed to have one weekend off from Dildo's per month. Right now, the schedule says I have 0.

Which means the only day this month where I do not have to work at all is: July 13th. Gee, thanks.

Ok, ok, I shouldn't complain. I am paying off my credit cards like mad. I think I will pay off about $700 this month. Maybe $800. It's almost worth not having a life. Almost.

That's why I'm so freaking excited about some news I recently got: I am going to be an adjunct instructor and teach a college-level class here where I already work, starting in August. This is extremely awesome because:

1. It's only 1-2 nights during the week, so no more weekends!!
2. It pays a lump sum of about $1200, which I can just forward on to my credit cards in a big lump sum, instead of juggling around money between all my bills and two jobs and five paychecks like I am doing right now. It gets confusing, especially when the Dildo's paycheck is vastly different from week to week. And my electricity bill is all over the map.
3. I love love love love to teach. Anything. To anyone. Even this class, which is a sort of Welcome-to-College-Here's-How-Not-to-Fuck-Up class. Seriously, teaching is definitely on the short list of my passions.
4. Since I will already be at the library, and therefore already on campus, I will not have to use any gas to get to my night job. Woot. And I think it will end around 7pm-ish, rather than 9:30 like Dildo's.
5. There is nothing to buy while I am there. I have spent at least $100 on jewelry since I started at Dildo's. Oops. I guess it's like an alcoholic working in a bar....kind of dumb to get a job at the mall, now that I'm looking at it....
6. I will get to totally avoid the Hell that is The Holiday Mall.

The class runs from August - mid-December. If you are number crunching right now, you are correct: this is not going to pay as well as Dildo's, where I am earning about $500/month. BUT I will have a life again! I can go to the gym, cook, see my friends, sleep in on Saturdays......ahhhhhh. I can't wait.

So I'm thinking I will quit Dildo's at the end of the month, enjoy a 2 week semi-vacation where I only work one job, and then my class will start. The cool thing is, once you start teaching this class, they usually have you teaching it every semester. So I'm good to go.

In other money-related news, CN got his economic stimulus check. Since he is smart and doesn't have oodles of credit card debt like his girlfriend does, his options are limitless with this $600 he just got from Uncle Sam. I asked him what he was going to do with it, and he made a joke about eating it (don't ask) and then promptly changed the subject. Hmmm. That's an interesting reaction......to my admittedly semi-nosey question. So a couple days later, when the topic of the Uncle Sam check came up again, I got the same answer.

Is anyone else thinking what I'm thinking? No? Just me? Ok. Moving on.

Btw, he and I celebrated our 10 month anniversary by.....(drumroll please)...eating leftovers and passing out on the couch in front of the tv. What an exciting couple, no?

Oh! Some more exciting news: I have a Little Sister (as in Big Brothers Big Sisters). We haven't met yet, because I'm trying to schedule our meeting, but my schedule is not cooperating. Argh. So I'm playing phone tag with the Big Brothers Big Sisters rep, who is playing phone tag with the girl's mother. It's crazy. But the mom wants to get the ball rolling ASAP, so we may meet up as soon as this weekend!!!! Yay! So exciting.

Tomorrow is the 4th. I will be working. Shocker! I'll be at Dildo's all day. But it won't be an entirely suck day: they are feeding us lunch (hot dogs and burgers), which is nice. It would be nicer to get time and a half, but whatever. (New employees don't get time and a half on holidays, which is probably why they have me working all day long.)

After I get off work, I am going to see a semi-pro baseball game downtown, where I will eat more hot dogs (seriously, I'm in a phase) and actually --*gasp*-- hang out with some friends! I seriously only see MJ twice a month now, and it's killing me. Text messages and emails only go so far. Most of what she knows about my day-to-day life now is via this blog. That is sad.

Oh! If you are wondering about Miss MJ, since her blog is now defunct, here's a quickie update:

She sorta dated this guy who works for her company, but lives in Florida. He was in town for a couple of months, and was rather smothering, then he was a bad kisser, then became a good kisser. I'm hoping to get more details soon. Also, she is now in a co-ed soccer league, and their first game is tonight.

And I have dubbed myself Unofficial Team Mom, because A) I don't have shit else to do. LOL and B) any excuse to bake something is awesome for me. So I managed to squeeze out enough time to bake some cupcakes this morning, and after I get off work here in a few minutes, I'm going to take them to MJ and her teammates.

Then she and I are going to have some much needed girl time. Until I have to go to bed so I can get up early for work. *sigh*

One more month. Then I have a life again.

CN and the Doctors

On Saturday afternoon, I made strawberry shortcake for CN. He loved it.

But after he ate, he said he didn't feel well. After some jokes about how I am poisoning him and/or not washing the strawberries, he decided to lie down. I joined him, because I didn't feel well either (little did I know, I was hours away from getting a migraine, and this was my body trying to warn me). Besides, my calves were killing me, thanks to my trainer's brilliant idea that I do 150 calf raises AND 30 pound lifts (45 times) on the calf weight machine at the gym. I would spend the weekend trying to stretch out my calves, only to end up hobbling around on my tippy toes, like some geriatric Barbie doll.

After our nap, I felt a little better, but CN felt worse -- much worse. He had nausea, dizziness, bloating, lower back pain, chills and....let's just say that "things" weren't "moving along". So I spent the evening taking care of him. I felt helpless, because nothing I did seemed to make him feel much better. I tried to stay up late with him -- he was in so much pain that he couldn't sleep -- but I konked out around 11pm. "Wake me up if you need anything," I said drowsily. I suck at being a night owl.

This pattern went on through Saturday night, all day Sunday and all day Monday. CN would eat, feel terrible, lie down, writhe in pain all night, then wake up feeling slightly better in the morning. And he had to go to extreme measures to get things "going", if you know what I mean.

To make things even worse, I woke up with a mild migraine on Sunday, so I was feeling pretty miserable, too. Thanks to a lot of caffeine, I managed to keep most of the pain at bay. So we went to Wal-Mart. But that was it! By the time we left, both of us were feeling worse. We laid around in bed for the rest of the day, feeling like crap!

"Wow, we are one exciting couple," he said.

On Monday morning, CN went to go see Dr. Quack. I call him Dr. Quack because when CN went to him last year, complaining of um....something really gross that can be a sign of something REALLY bad, he told CN to "just cut back on alcohol".

WTF?? A young, otherwise healthy man comes to you, complaining of unexplained bleeding, and you tell him to cut back on beer??! ARG!

"I really wish you wouldn't go see him again," I said. "He's a quack!"

"Well, I already made the appointment," he replied.

CN comes back from the doctor and calls me at work. "Ok, Dr. Quack says I have a kidney infection."

"But you have been complaining about gastro-intestinal issues," I replied, confused.

"Yeah, I know. But he tested my pee, and it came back infected. So I'm on antibiotics."

I remembered his lower back pain -- it must have been in his kidneys. That kind of made sense. I asked him if Dr. Quack said anything else about his other symptoms.

"Yeah, I told him about the dizziness, and he said I probably have congested sinuses, so he told me to go buy some Mucinex," CN replied.

"Do you have congestion?" I asked.

"No," CN answered. "But I bought some anyway. Just took the first dose."

Who the hell is this doctor?? I thought to myself. And why is my normally intelligent boyfriend just accepting everything he is saying as gospel?? Doesn't he see that this doc is a moron?? Apparently, I am going to have to just do all this for CN, because he cannot be trusted to be in charge of his own health. This is so ridiculous.

That's when I recognized this particular Voice in My Head: It was the worst voice of all. It was the voice of The Czarina. I was turning into my mother before my very eyes. As terrifying as it was, I couldn't stop it. It was like a ventriloquist had taken over my body. I was the dummy on her lap, saying whatever she would say.

"Ok, well, I will come check on you when I get home today," I replied. [Czarina Voice Translation: When I come over today after work, I am going to make you go see a real doctor who gives logical answers, because I am pretty sure this doctor got his MD from the back of a cereal box.]

By the time I got home, he was feeling a lot better, but he hadn't really eaten anything that day, so we went to grab some BBQ. As soon as he finished eating, he felt terrible again. Seeing the pattern of eating --> illness, I tell him I really think he should go to see a gastroenterologist. I was worried he might have IBS, diverticulitis or an intestinal blockage -- or worse.

We go home, and he's now really uncomfortable and lying on the couch. "We might need to go to the emergency room," he said. I explained (ok, Czarina's Voice explained) to him that if we go to the emergency room, they will put him at the bottom of the list because he's not bleeding to death and he doesn't have any heart/lung issues. Then, once they get around to seeing us at 4am, they will probably tell us to pop some vicodin and call your regular doctor in the morning.

He agreed and decided to stay put for the time being. He took some tylenol for the pain. To make him feel better, I stayed at his house in case he needed anything.

He felt ok yesterday morning -- not great, but ok. I went to work and came to check on him at lunch. It was time to visit a REAL doctor. One who didn't prescribe medicines for non-existent symptoms.

"But I've already been to the doctor," he whined.

"My coworkers recommend Dr. B," I said, ignoring him. He was going to the doctor whether he liked it or not. [Czarina was in full swing now.]

"Shouldn't we wait until the antibiotics really kick in? I mean, I'm fine! This is no big deal!" he said.

That's when I lost it. I gave CN a tear-filled lecture about how worried I was and how he's got to go to the doctor, if only so that I can stop worrying. I listed off all the reasons I wasn't happy with Dr. Quack and told him a bunch of scary stories I had heard about unresolved gastro-intestinal issues. After about 20 minutes of nagging, lecturing, guilt-tripping and begging, he finally caved in and agreed to call.

Dr. B couldn't see him for 2 days.

"Ok, yeah, Friday is ok, then," CN said into the phone.

"No, it's NOT!!" I hissed. "You need to see someone TODAY!!"

We called the doctor recommended to us by Dr. B's receptionist.

"Tomorrow morning at 9? Sure, that would be ok," CN said into the phone.

By this point, I was ready to grab the phone away from him and do it myself. What is it with men and doctors??!!

"Does he specialize in gastroenterology? Ask her if he specializes in gastro-intestinal issues," I asked. CN asked receptionist #2.

"No, he doesn't," CN told me. He went back to talking to receptionist #2.

"My chief complaint? Uh...I don't feel good. Just, ya know, in pain, in my back, mostly," he said.

"No!! You are having severe abdominal pain and nothing is making it better and you need to see someone TODAY!" I practically yelled. I was hovering over him by this point, like a helicopter.

CN made the appointment for the next morning at 9am. He got off the phone.

"Ok, we are calling a gastroenterologist this time," I said.

"But I just made an appointment with a family doctor for tomorrow," he said, confused.

"Yes, I realize this, but you need a gastroenterologist TODAY. Tomorrow isn't good enough. If you don't take health problems seriously, they will turn into serious health problems," I said. I gave him the number I had looked up in the phone book. He called and made an appointment for 2:30 that afternoon.

I took off the rest of the afternoon so that I could go with him.

"This really isn't necessary," CN said, as I made a list of all his symptoms and all the foods he had eaten in the past 48 hours. "I'm a big boy. I can go to the doctor by myself."

"Oh yeah? You can? What happened last time?" I asked.

"He told me I was congested. And I'm not," he mumbled.

"What else?" I asked, shrewishly. I was on a roll, now. This was Classic Czarina, spewing from my mouth. My hands may have even been on my hips.

"And I forgot to tell the doctor all of my symptoms. Or ask questions," he mumbled again.

"I'm going to the doctor's appointment with you, even if they make me sit in the waiting room the whole time." I announced, one eyebrow raised. "Besides, look at you. You're in so much pain, you can't even sit up straight. You can't drive like this."

We went to the doctor, complete with the list of symptoms I had written and all his medicines, including the over the counter stuff. They let me go into the exam room with CN.

The doctor comes in, and we tell him everything. I make CN show him the list I made.

The doctor tells us that sometimes, when someone gets any kind of infection, it can mess with your gastro-intestinal tract. So it was probably the kidney infection causing the gastro-intestinal problems. The doctor asked CN some questions, just to rule out anything serious. CN was fine. Just a little backed up, was all. (Finally! Some answers!!)

"So what's up with the Mucinex?" I asked.

The doctor turned to CN. "Are you congested?" he asked.

"No," said CN.

"Hmmm....I bet Dr. Quack meant to write down 'Miralax', an OTC laxative, but he wrote down 'Mucinex' by mistake. So stop taking the Mucinex if you don't have congestion. Let's get you some Miralax instead, ok? You can get it at drugstores or grocery stores. It's over the counter," he said.

Oh my gawd. You have got to be kidding me, I thought. Jeez Louise. If CN was allowed to do what he wanted, he'd be dead or buying snake oil from some infomercial. I am just going to have to run this show from now on.

"Tell him about your prostate!!" I whispered to CN. CN has an enlarged prostate. It is hereditary in his family. His dad has prostate cancer right now, in fact, which is something you are at a high risk for if you have an enlarged prostate.

CN tells him all about the prostate issues.

"Ok, so let me get this straight. You have a urinary/kidney infection and an enlarged prostate?" asked the doctor.

"Yes," said CN.

"Well, what does your urologist say?" he continued.

"Um, I have never been to a urologist. Dr. Quack just told me to take saw palmetto, that herbal supplement that is supposed to help," CN explained.

You could have knocked the doctor over with a feather! He was visibly shocked. "You mean to tell me that you have prostate cancer in your immediate family, a history of enlarged prostate symptoms AND a urinary/kidney tract infection and you haven't been to a urologist??!" he exclaimed.

Thank you, you genius doctor, I thought. I have been telling him to go to a urologist for months.

"Um. No." CN mumbled.

"I'm referring you to one right away. You really don't need me, you need a urologist," he said.

We made the appointment at the urologist's, paid the bill and drove home.

"Thanks for coming with me, babe," CN said.

"You're welcome. Sorry I had to get all Czarina on your ass, but I was worried sick and you acted like you weren't concerned, and I got scared, which brings out my inner control freak," I said.

"No, I'm glad you did. It shows you care. I was kind of scared that there was something really wrong with me, and I didn't want to deal with it. Thanks for making me talk to a good doctor. I feel a lot better," he said.

"So I wasn't totally obnoxious?" I asked.

"No! You were great. I really appreciate it...Czarina."

"Shut up. Don't call me that ever again," I mumbled.

Mr. Safety

If you were to hang out with my boyfriend for a day, you would know why I call him "Mr. Safety". I have to say, I tease him about his overly-cautious lifestyle quite a bit.

Some of his own self-imposed rules include:

1. All doors shall remain locked at all times, unless you are going in or out of them. Once the passage is complete, any and all locks shall be re-locked. The same goes for windows, cars, sliding doors, gates and anything else with a lock on it. (I, on the other hand, have been known to make a "quick run" to the grocery store and leave my entire house wide open, including the front door, sometimes literally.)

2. All foods, unless individually wrapped or sealed, must be stored in the refrigerator. A "use by" date is just that. After the Constitution, this is the highest law of the land. Anything not consumed or used by then will automatically be thrown away. Anything without a "use by date" -- for example, homemade foods or restaurant takeout -- shall be thrown away in a 24-48 hour period. (I, on the other hand, have been known to say, "Food poisoning, schmood poisoning!" as I scrape the mold off of the strawberry jam and spread it onto the restaurant roll I've had for a week.)

Our differences in opinion on this topic came to a head one day, when I pointed out that sour cream cannot get any more sour, and therefore, the "use by" dates on the cartons are simply a conspiracy cooked up by dairy farmers in order to get us to buy more sour cream. (Yeah, I won that battle!)

3. Anyone who does not follow all traffic laws at all times and in all conditions is deemed an "asshole" and "law breaker". This includes: speed limits, turn signals, the wearing of seat belts, obeying "no right on red" signs, merging politely, stopping at yellow lights and proper use of headlights. I don't think it's any surprise that I have fallen into the "asshole" category many times, according to Mr. Safety.

In my defense, that stupid "no right on red" sign by our house is absurd, since one can clearly see if there's any oncoming traffic. And at some intersections here in town, if you don't turn left on a yellow light, you will be sitting at that intersection, trying to turn left, until you die.

4. Hand-washing or the use of hand sanitizer is obligatory in any of the following situations: everything. I, on the other hand, only think about washing my hands when I'm in a bathroom. (I like to think that the constant exposure to my own germy hands strengthens my immune system, and since Mr. Safety gets sick all the time whereas I never seem to catch anything but a cold, I rest my case.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So you can imagine my surprise about a week ago, when he came over to my house. We had talked about grabbing some dinner and going shopping, so when I opened my door, I asked him if he was ready to go grab some food.

"Yeah, but I've gotta take a shower," he replied.

"Ok, well, you can come in for a sec. I'm sure you don't stink too much."

"No, I've been doing yard work all afternoon," he explained. He held up his hands -- they were black as soot. He pointed to his shoes -- they were covered in dirt.

"Oh. Ok, yeah, please, just stay outside. You're filthy. Are you starving? I was thinking we could shop first and then get dinner," I said.

"Nah, I'm ok for right now. I had a snack," he replied.

"Yeah? What'd you have?" I asked.

"Oh, just some wild onions that were growing in my yard."

*Thirty second silence as I stare at him and blink.*

"I'm sorry," I said, "did you say 'wild onions'?"

"Yeah. You know, the ones that always grow in your yard. The little white ones, with the long green stems," he explained.

"I know what you mean. Just trying to clarify.........So, you got them from your backyard?"

"Yes."

"The same backyard that Sammy pees in when I bring him over?" I asked.

"Oh. I didn't think about that...." he trailed off.

"You eating anything else back there? Wild tomatoes? Wild carrots? I mean, maybe we could have a Wild Salad for dinner," I said, sarcastically.

"No, nothing else. Just the wild onions."

"Um.........ew, babe. Seriously, who does that? Tell me you at least washed the dirt off before you ate them," I said.

"Nah. Just sort of brushed the dirt off of them," he replied. Seeing the look on my face, he continued, "They're from the ground! They are natural! It's from the earth!"

"Well, so is Sammy's poop, but you don't go around munching away on it! Besides! Hello! Pesticides! This, from the man who won't eat restaurant leftovers???" I exclaimed, utterly confused.

"Well, I was covered in dirt, so I didn't want to go inside to get something, and I was hungry, and they were there, and they smelled good, so..." he tried to explain.

"Wait wait wait. So, you were hungry, and you thought, 'Hmmm. What would be a good snack? I know! Onions! Raw, wild onions!' ?" I said, laughing hysterically at this point.

He was growing indignant and defensive at this point, so I let it go after one final question:

"Tell me the neighbors didn't see you doing this," I said pleadingly.

"No, they didn't. But I do have onion breath."

Mr. Safety, indeed.

Tuesday 13

Thirteen Things My Boyfriend Cannot or Will Not Do

1. Swim -- I am not kidding. He'd drop like a block of cement. He can't even float or do the doggy-paddle. When we go on the cruise, I'm going to make him wear Water Wings.

2. Turn left -- Yup, just like Zoolander. He wanted to be in marching band in high school, but when it came to marching around, he would always turn right when he was supposed to turn left. And turn left when he was supposed to turn right. He had to stick to just playing the saxophone sitting down.

3. Cook -- He made mashed potatoes the other day. You'd think that he had climbed Mt. Everest, the way he was talking about it. I was proud. Well, as proud as you can be for someone who only made mashed potatoes.

4. Dust -- CN's house is very clean and tidy. Except for the layers of dust coating everything. He says that real men don't dust. And I sort of agree, so I don't bug him about it. But neither do I dust his house for him! I just ignore the dust bunnies.

5. Listen to the radio -- He won't leave the house without his Sirius radio. I should start calling it his "lifeline". Even if he's only running a ten minute errand -- it's got to come along! Actually, the same can be said about his GPS. It doesn't matter if he already knows how to get there, or if he's only driving across the street. He wants his GPS. Men and their gadgets, I guess.

6. Floss -- Yeah. You read that correctly. I try not to nag him about this, although it kind of grosses me out. So I just remind myself that his teeth are pretty good, and I try not to think about it.

7. Tan-- If his skin were any paler, he would be transparent. He is like one of those cave-dwelling animals you see in National Geographic. If I stare at his chest long enough, I swear I can see his internal organs. Kind of like how you can see E.T.'s beating and glowing red heart. But since I believe that real men don't go to tanning salons, he remains pale, if only under protest.

8. Break traffic laws -- He never speeds. He obeys all signs, even if there isn't a cop within sight. He comes to a complete stop at all stop signs. He never runs red lights. He uses his turn signal 100% of the time. He makes me look like Evel Knievel.

9. Stop watching WWF wrestling -- Oh yeah. He got hooked in 6th grade, and he's still watching it. He records all the shows so that he can have a wrestling marathon. He says it's like a "soap opera for men". You have no idea how much I am biting my tongue to not tease him about this incessantly. I guess the little boy in him is too cute for me to say anything. I am sorry to say that the phrase "Stone Cold Steve Austin" has entered my vocabulary.

10. Limit himself to one computer -- As of today, I believe he has three. Who has three computers?? Oh yeah. I know. His dad. He is turning into his dad: when his computer gets a virus or starts to run slowly, he just buys another one. CN is the same way. He doesn't try to buy more hard drive, see what's wrong, look for a cheaper alternative or defrag or anything! This blows my mind! I had to talk him out of buying computer #4 this past weekend!

11. Raise his voice -- I have never heard him do it. I like to think this says a lot for how well we get along. It's a good thing he is so patient and understanding, because I can be a butthead. And a basketcase. I also do not tolerate boyfriends who yell. I really appreciate that he leaves all the screaming to me. Because I enjoy a good temper tantrum now and then.

12. Enjoy Mexican food -- This almost breaks my heart, because Mexican food is probably my favorite cuisine. But because his stomach is a little on the sensitive side, he can eat Mexican food, but he always ends up paying for it later. I started to feel so badly for dragging him to the Mexican places, I told him he won't ever have to eat there again. So now, I stick to hitting San Jose's with my girls instead.

13. Eat normal food combinations -- Grits? He wants sardines and mustard in them. (Um, EW!!!) Turkey sandwich? Yeah, he wants his with grape jelly. Bananas? He'd like that in a mayonnaise/banana sandwich combo, please. The man is a freak.

My boyfriend is so weird.

Awkwardness

For the first time in my whole life, I am going to a significant other's parents' house for a holiday.

Yes, I am a loser. But that's not what this post is about.

And no, I am not freaking out about anything major. I have already met CN's parents, and I like them. And they like me. So that is good. I'm just nervous about the little stuff. The Czarina is not helping, either. The other evening, she called me.

VB: Hello?
C: Oh! It's loud. Are you out?
VB: Yes, Mom, I'm in a bar. What's up?
C: Are you with CN?
VB: Yes. We are eating dinner.
C: Um, ok. I just wanted to tell you something while I was thinking about it, because otherwise I'll forget.
VB: Ok. Shoot.
C: You're still going to CN's parents' house for Thanksgiving, right?
VB: Right. Is that ok?
C: Oh, sure, honey! That's totally fine. I know it's a pain to drive all the way up here, only to turn around two days later. You can just come home at Christmas.
VB: Ok. I'm glad you're not upset.
C: Oh, no. I just wanted to give you some advice.
VB: Ok.
C: When you go down there with CN, make sure you don't call him "Sweetie" or anything in front of his mother.
VB: [Trying not to laugh] I'm sorry. It's kind of loud in here. What did you say?
C: I just wanted to tell you not to call CN any little nicknames in front of his mother. It comes off as possessive.
VB: [Realizing there is no point in debating the validity of this statement, and it would be better to just go with it, because apparently, mother has smoked crack before picking up the phone.] Oh. Ok. Thanks, Mom!
C: You're welcome. I'll let you get back to your dinner. Love ya!
VB: Love you, too. Bye, Mom.

Ok, is anyone else totally confused about this advice? Because that was probably the strangest piece of advice she has EVER given to me. And I'm having a VERY hard time believing it. It sounds totally absurd. Who gives a fart if I call him "Schmoopie" or "Sugar Pie" or even "Love Bunny" in front of his mom?

I mean, do parents care about stuff like that? Or is my mother crazy? Because normally, her advice is very old-fashioned, which I can understand. Usually, I can see her point. It's never just plain crazy. This just made no sense to me at all. I could understand maybe, if his mother didn't like me, but she does. So I fail to see the meaning and importance of this advice. It's making me wonder if The Czarina is suffering from early-onset senility.

Maybe I'm just naive? Can anyone shed some light on this for me?

Funny side note: Right after I got off the phone with The Czarina, CN saw a friend of his in the bar. He introduced me, and the three of us started talking. Then the friend made a joke about how CN and I are going to have babies in "about 5 years". I laughed it off, but CN got TOTALLY flustered! It was so funny. I have never seen someone get so wigged out about a joke before in my life! He acted funny for the rest of the evening, and just couldn't seem to let it roll off his back. I mean, the joke put us on the spot, but there was no harm in it. I don't know why it bothered him so much. Can anyone explain this puzzling male behavior to me?

Ok, back to my Turkey Day Stress.

As if my mother's strange advice isn't making me TOO ill at ease, I have a bunch of other stuff that is stressing me out about Thanksgiving this year. My inner monologue goes something like this:

What if his parents' house smells funny? What if I don't like his mom's cooking? What if I have to meet other members of the family and they hate me? What if I get down there and his family is TOTALLY different than mine and we just don't mesh well? What if they get all dressed up for Thanksgiving?

(My family wears sweatshirts and jeans, because the Big Meal is always served mid-football marathon, and we are NOT about to wear church clothes to watch football games on tv!)

*Note to self: ask CN about appropriate Thanksgiving attire*

What if I have to go to church with them? I am weird about other people's churches. I never know where to go or what to do, and often feel guilty about "cheating". Which, at this point, is kind of stupid, because I have not been to church in about a year. I guess it's because I was raised Catholic. Although I'm not Catholic anymore, I still view my attending "other" churches as being sacriligious. I'm weird, I know. Heck, at this point, I could use ANY church! LOL I'm a heathen!

What if they don't like the pies I'm making? I will ruin Thanksgiving! (I am making a sweet potato pie, and I've never made one before. I'm worried I will mess it up.)

What if they eat weird food for Thanksgiving? Like squash or chitlins or goose or something? What if I don't want to eat anything except my own pies?

What if I want to watch different football games than they do? Or worse -- what if they don't watch the football games at all!?

What if I get homesick while I'm there and I start crying? (To make things really interesting, I am all hormonal and PMSy -- which means I cry about anything.) Or worse, what if Cranky, PMSy VB comes out and I bite someone's head off?! EEEK!!

What if something really awkward happens? Someone could bring up a personal topic, or CN and I could get into a fight. Or his parents could turn into MY parents, lecturing us to death. Ugh.

What if I get sick when I'm there? What if we start playing board games, like we do at The Czarina's, and I turn into Obnoxious Board Game VB, who plays for blood and screams at people?

Ugh. Ok, change of subject. I can feel my stomach twisting up. I need to chill, don't I? I'm being ridiculous. Everything will be fine. I could always just pop a vicodin -- Lord knows that always chills me out.

I'm kidding.

*Note to self: get prescription for Xanax.*

Does anyone have any advice for me? Because I've never done this before, and all I am imagining is that I will be like Sarah Jessica Parker's character in The Family Stone and it will be horrible horrible horrible. (By the way, if you have never seen that movie, it is hilarious!) My Overactive Imagination is having a field day right now. Pessimistically Paranoid is screaming and running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Clearly, I need to talk to CN and get him to calm me the eff down. I swear, guys, this is the hormones talking. They make me crazy. Sorry if I'm being TMI today...

Why did I quit smoking again??? Gah, I'd kill for one right now.

So any advice is welcome. Tales of Warning are good, too. And if you have any funny or embarrassing stories, please share those, as well.

But mainly, I'm looking for an explanation of my mother's weird advice. Seriously, WTF??!