Curiosity Killed the Cat

3/31/2010 bekah 7 Comments

I am dying. Really, the anticipation just might kill me.

Blind date. Friday night. With someone in my ward.

My roomie and her boyfriend are setting me up. And they absolutely will not tell me who it is. No matter how much I threaten them. All my room mate will tell me is that I will be in a huge debt of gratitude to her later once I find out who it is.

I'm usually fine with blind dates if I can get the guy's name first to do some skilled facebook stalking. But not knowing is KILLING me!!!!!

So dear readers, what say ye about blind dates?

xoxo
-the Romantic

Memories Light the Corners of My Mind

3/30/2010 The Virgin 1 Comments

As a wee senior in high school I vividly remember my expectations of BYU.

They were high.

Whenever I told anyone that I was going to BYU, they always told me that I was going to date so much when I was there. I honestly thought I was going to have to whack boys off with a stick and I wouldn't be able to handle all of them. My dear seminary teacher overheard me talking about this with The Coquette, and she told us that that wasn't necessarily the case. I brushed away her comments. I was certain that I was going to be a dating machine.

But guess who was right...

Until this past semester (which has been the strangest anomaly), I could literally count the dates I had been on at BYU on one hand.

There are some girls, like The Heartbreaker, who just walk in the light. They get asked out all the time, and heaven knows they need the sticks. And then there are the rest of us, who just get invited to mass hangouts and the occasional date with that guy in your Bio 100 lab that gives you those creepy looks. And we all say yes because that is the polite, nice thing to do.

So... to the incoming freshman, BYU is not like your parents remember. Dating has seemingly gone out of style like the card catalog at the HBLL. (Wow. I just aged myself 15 years...)

Loves,
V

On a more serious note

3/29/2010 bekah 1 Comments

It makes me very happy that most of our readers think our blog is funny. I'm glad people relate to all the crazy dating experiences we've had. Some may question why it is we only post our negative experiences. The blog is titled the Anti-Austen after all. In a world where the pressure to get married is so great, sometimes it's just easier to tell about our funny/horrific experiences. I've been in some amazing relationships that haven't worked out for one reason or another.

So, dear readers, would you like to hear a sappy story for a change? It may not be as funny. But it's almost as good as P&P as far as epic love stories go.

Sometimes I worry that my standards are too high, through no fault of Jane Austen's.



Let's rewind the clocks almost a year ago. I was trying to get over a boy (as the story usual goes). I'd been his friend-girl; the substitute girlfriend, while his "real" girlfriend was attending the another university. He messed me up pretty good.But I was moving along ok. The one person who really helped me through it all was Mr. Advice.
Mr. Advice was a bit of a hippie. Despite this fact, everyone I knew absolutely loved him. He was the guy we all went to for advice(hence the name).
School let out, and Mr. Advice and I spent more and more time together. I was 19, and he was 25. Quite the age difference. He took care of me, looked out for me, gave me advice. But at the same time, he knew my potential, and what I was capable of. This is important for our male readers! So take note! I'm about to reveal a huge secret: Women want to be taken care of, but at the same time, they want the men they are dating to recognize the powerful abilities that they have to do almost anything.

I never understood before what it was like to talk to someone for hours and never run out of things to say. But he and I were like that. And we weren't even dating! We were just friends. I would stay out at all hours of the night just talking to him on the bench outside our apartment.
Pretty soon I realized that he had feelings for me. I could see it in the way he looked at me. Do you know this look dear reader? It is my most sincere hope that everyone know what it feels like to be looked at like this. Of course there was admiration and respect in his eyes. But there was this awe. He seemed so amazed sometimes just to be in my presence. And it wasn't like I ever did anything extraordinary. He would just look at me like that when I laughed, or said something silly. Or got mad. He looked at me that way all the time.
I was leaving in the Fall for a study abroad, and I figured nothing would happen between the two of us until the end of the summer, with the thought of my leaving him as a catalyst for any action he might take. But no. Things moved much more quickly than I ever expected.

Mr. Advice lived 45 minutes away. I expressly forbade him from driving down to see me anymore that weekend because I knew he couldn't afford it. But after church, I was sitting outside on the phone, and he came marching up the staircase of my complex.
He immediately ordered me off of the phone and told me we were to go for a walk. We barely made it around the corner of my complex before he said we'd gone far enough. And he collapsed on a shady patch of grass right next to the building.

He was so nervous and seemed absolutely petrified. I was worried someone died. I asked him if he was ok. Now I know he was just terrified for what he was about to say.

"I like you. I really like you. It's incredible actually." This is an actual quote that he said. How's that for an epic declaration? The rest is paraphrasing, but more or less what he said.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I'm sorry I didn't put my arm around you that night we went to the movies. I'm sorry I didn't put my arm around you that night we hiked the Y and you were cold. You're amazing. And I thought when we went to Salt Lake that all we would talk about that day was that other guy. But we didn't. And I like that fact that people thought we were dating, and that they called you my "girl" and neither of us corrected them. And I don't care if you don't like me. But I just had to tell you. I couldn't be around you and hold it in anymore."
He poured out his soul to me for about five minutes. I just sat there, shocked. I knew he liked me, but I had no idea such an ardent declaration of his affection was coming any time soon. I somehow squeaked out a simple, "I like you too" after he was done. There was no passionate kiss that followed. Or even a warm embrace. He simply put his arm around me, and we held hands for the rest of the afternoon.
And so began the best summer of my life.

So what happened with me and Mr. Advice? Well, reader, if you've stuck with me this far, I'm sorry to disappoint, but I'm afraid that's much too personal to divulge.
That's why we write our funny stories on this blog. Because sometimes the good stories are still too personal to re-live.
I'm over Mr. Advice now. He's engaged to be married. Congratulations to the both of them. I'm happy he's happy. We turned out not to be right for each other. But with such a standard as my first boyfriend, it's going to be very difficult to expect anything less from any other man. And it's not any fault of Jane's.

I've come to the conclusion that happy stories are good to post sometimes. Stay tuned readers. I might just post the exciting story of my first kiss sometime.

xoxo
-The Romantic

I'm Not That Pessimistic

3/29/2010 The Virgin 0 Comments

Sometimes there are good dates.

In this vast pool, sometimes you pick the good fish.

Good, simple dates sometimes aren't that fun to talk about. You girls know it. There's no drama. We live off drama.

The date with the Super RM was a good date. I knew him. He knew me. We'd hung out a few times. He wasn't creepy when he asked me. It wasn't a big production, because it doesn't have to be.

We went to Borders. We got hot chocolate. We talked, and I helped him look for a book to help him with his new job.

Short and sweet. Perfect first date.

He was sweet and fun, and he didn't try anything or try too hard. I don't ask for much. All I want is for you to listen to me when I talk. Look me in the eyes. Bring something to the table. I'm not going to put in the effort if you're not.

The Virgin

You Could Be a Model for Puppy Chow

3/24/2010 The Virgin 0 Comments

I met Bandanna Boy at concert for a local band. I was interested in his friend, not him. So when I went up to talk to the kid I assumed that the friend would come up and join our conversation just as he had at Muse. I was mistaken. After a gracious compliment about my dimples, Bandanna Boy asked for my number. "Why not?" I thought. The kid was nice, and maybe something could happen, but only if he took off that ridiculous bandanna that made him look more like an Australian shepherd than a Mr. Willoughby. We exchanged digits and that was the end of the night.

He called me a week later (and asked if I remembered him... Um... I got your number too, so yeah, I remember you. This is Provo for goodness sakes, I wasn't inebriated.) A date was set up for later the next week.

As far as dates go it wasn't horrid, but I wasn't interested in going out with this kid again. Here's why:
1. Fido bandanna tied securely around his neck. It reminds me of that creepy story you would tell as a kid about the girl with the ribbon around her neck.
2. Felt some need to impress me constantly. Please do not brag about the $8,000  water purifier your parents installed in your home. If there is anything Austen readers adore and swoon over it is a modest man.
3. I could not get a word in with this kid. Sometimes I like to talk too, and I may actually have something worthwhile to contribute to the conversation.
4. Don't ask me how much I weigh. Seriously. Your mother would be ashamed.

Experiences like this make me wonder what goes in the heads of the male sex that would lead us to think this is appealing.

Mr Confidence

3/23/2010 the heart breaker 1 Comments

So to begin I suppose we will start with one of my favorite first date stories.

This takes place my first year living in Provo, I was young, naïve, and well, excited about the idea of dating “mature college boys” ( now being a little more experienced I have come to the realization that that statement is indeed, an oxymoron. Boys NEVER grow up.) I meet Mister Confidence in my American heritage lab. He was handsome, charming and well, when you notice the 4 other girls in the class drooling over him as well you are reaffirmed in your conviction that yes, he is indeed, the cute boy of the class (ladies, you can not deny you are aware of who that is in every class you attend).

The Meeting:

The next class period I was honored that Mr. Confidence sat right next to me… my heart skips a few beats…. my cheeks quickly turn pink . He asks me a question about the class I answer politely and after quite a bit of small talk he asks me out on a date. I was thrilled.

The Date:

California Pizza Kitchen was the place.

Menus are delivered to the table, he decides we are going to play a game. I love games, I love spontaneity, so far so good. Then he tells me we are going to choose dinners for each other so we have to give a few rules of things we like or don’t like. I tell him I don’t really like meat that much, and I love salads without a lot of dressing ( I thought I was pretty darn specific) . He tells me he loves pasta and chicken and white sauce. (he was specific enough). The waitress comes, I order him, pasta with white sauce and chicken, it was really really difficult making that decision (sarcasm). He orders for me… are you ready? A Thai chicken Pizza??? Really??

For rest of our WONDERFUL meal, I learned all about Mr. Confidence, his likes his dislikes, his family, and more than I ever cared to know about his HIGH SCHOOL football career. I think I may have interjected a grand total of 20 words throughout dinner. (Note to the men of Provo, DO NOT tell us about your high school glory days)

Post Dinner:

A stroll through University Mall, he tries to hold my hand: BIG no no.

1st date: Don’t hold my hand ESPECIALLY in Public

He calls me hunny: I am NOT your hunny, nor will I ever be your hunny after this date. I explain I am really tired and have a lot of studying to get done.

The goodbye:

He walks me to my car (oh yes, I drove myself, he said he hates trying to follow directions when he doesn’t know where he’s going so I should drive myself??)

I unlock the car a few times to give him the hint I’m ready to leave, I’m done listening, and what does he do, goes in for the kiss, my back against my car door, I turn my head and he hits half lip half face, I was not prepared for this.

Post Date:

Here is my favorite part of the Mr. Confidence story.

Most guys realize when dates don’t go that well. But Mr. Confidence is a very special breed of men here in Provo. He thought it went wonderfully. I show up in class, hide in the back praying he’s already in there. He’s not. The seats fill up quickly around me. He comes in, tells the guy sitting in front of me that I am his girl and he wants to sit by me. Loser in front happily moves. He turns around,” hey baby, how has your day been?” I freeze, and then say, “lets talk after class.” Now, I am as non-confrontational as it gets, UNTIL it comes to idiot boys with MASSIVE egos.

The Talk:

I tell him after class that I had a great time on the date,

BUT I am not looking for a relationship right now

And I am sure there are many other girls out there who would love to date him and he will find them

(okay a slight lie to protect his ego)

He says:

Are you seriously rejecting me right now?

I ask:

Have you never had anyone turn you down before?

Him:

No

THE END.

I beg you Mr. Darcy, if you are living in Provo, please come find me because my search is wearing me out!

Thanks,

The Heart Breaker

The Friend Zone

3/23/2010 bekah 0 Comments

Being the delightfully sweet and thoughtful person that I am, I somehow always seem to end up in the friend zone.

I can't tell you how many texts I've gotten that say:

You are the greatest! Thanks for everything you do, and just being you! :0)


Really guys? I keep hoping that one of them will pull a Mr. Knightley, where he's secretly in love with me, and then finally realizes it. And then confesses said undying love.

But alas, I'm stuck in the friend zone.

When I got a text this semester from one of these male friends that said, "I want to talk", I was secretly hopeful. Instead, he called later that night to talk about reasons why I should serve a mission.
(insert deep sigh full of meaning here)
Maybe some day.
xoxo
-The Romantic

You Never Know What You're Gonna Get

3/23/2010 The Girl Next Door 0 Comments

Here's a good date for you. Ghosting. I bet you're confused as to what that is. I definitely was. Let me give you some background first.


It was the first day of class, so naturally I scan the classroom to see if I know anyone. Nope. So I proceed to sit in the back left corner. Safe and comfortable. The teacher begins to tell us that we will be doing group work all throughout the semester, so we need to make groups. But I don't know anyone! Great. I awkwardly ask the kids in front of me if I can be in their group. They seem nice...dorky, but hopefully good students. We do introductions and of the three girls in our group, I'm the only single one. There are two boys. One is really cute, but short. The other one is really white, skinny and awkward. Let's call the skinny kid, "The Creep". The Creep starts asking questions about me and is shocked that I am a junior, 20 years old and NOT married. He asks me whats wrong with me. Really? Who is this kid anyways?


Throughout the semester we get to know each other a little better. I get more comfortable with him...as does he with me. He tells me that he has to flirt with me because I am the only single girl. He tells me he likes my hair because it looks like I "just woke up or just got done doing the dirty dirty".


One day, he comes into class and says that he wants to take me out. This puts me on the spot, and so I agree. He won't tell me what we are going to do but just tells me the day and time. He comes and picks me up at my apartment and it turns out the other couple is in my ward...I've never seen them before. Ha, my bad. We proceed to go up to campus...yes, a date on campus. Bowling? A play? No. Ghosting. Ghosting is when you walk behind random strangers, as close as you can for as long as you can with out them noticing. We make it a competition. Now this would be funny just randomly with your friends, but on a date is a whole other story. Of course, The Creep has his camera to document this whole ghosting experience.


After ghosting for about an hour, we go to Dairy Queen. He takes more pictures with me. Just me and him. Ahhhh. The other couple is weird, of course, it's BYU. I end up just sitting at the table, day dreaming and wondering what my friends are doing.


Finally, it's time to go home. He just drops me off at the stairs with the other couple and drives away. Thank you. An hour later, I get a text from him saying the pictures and videos are up on Facebook. Already?!! Gosh. Thank goodness I don't have to go out with him again.


The next class period he tells me that I have "a lot of junk in the trunk" and he likes it. Wait, I just spent an hour with him watching me walk and videotaping it. GROSS. Oh! And a couple nights later I get a text from him that says: Booty call?


Who does this kid think he is? Brad Pitt??


He definitely tried to ask me out again. I guess he had it in his head that I was interested. Once again, I'm too nice for my own good.


~The Girl Next Door

As Per Request

3/22/2010 The Virgin 4 Comments

I had my own plans for the evening. I was going to see Sherlock Holmes with my roommate and her cousin, The Super RM. However, the film did not start until later that night and I was left to myself, alone in the apartment. Rather than work on my papers and pretend to be thoroughly interested in the basketball game. I decided to have a little fun and text Mr. Suds. After typical texting banter, he inquired after my plans for the evening. I informed him of my "very exciting" dollar theater plans. To which he replied that perhaps we could do something "fun" after. I had an idea of what that meant...

The movie ended up being a quote unquote date. The Man Hater opted out and wrote her paper instead. I was thus able to enjoy a somewhat awkward cuddle sesh with the SRM, who has been home for a mere three weeks.

Upon rushing home, I saw SRM to his car and ran up to my apartment. After a quick consultation with the girls, I sent Mr. Suds a text telling him I was home. He asked if I would like to come over. Psh yeah. A skype date/fashion show ensued with the Heart Breaker and the Coquette. With not a minute to spare Mr. Suds was there to pick me up.

He and I spooned on the couch while watching a movie. It ended and we stayed there for a bit. Somehow we ended up on the Lovesack. The next few seconds are a complete blur, he grabbed my face and started kissing me. I was thrown into the deep end. No amount of mental preparation could have helped me. Somehow I had to figure out a way to fumble my way through a make out. After moments of awkwardness, I was finally was able to hold my own as well as one could in my situation. It was a mere 20 minutes, but being the stickler I am for bedtimes, I adamantly told him that I should probably go home.

He dropped me off and there were excited phone calls and texts with emotions similar to that of a birth of a child.

And I did receive the obligatory text the day afterward....

Ciao lovelies,
The Virgin

An Addendum Is Now Needed

3/21/2010 The Virgin 1 Comments

After an awkward beginning, the Virgin is virgin lipped no more.

Yes, after years of horrible persecution by my well meaning friends, I have finally locked lips in my third year of college.

All in all, I'd say it went pretty well, but being a classy woman after Austen's own taste, that is the only detail I'm going to give...

- The Virgin

Words of Jane Austen

3/20/2010 bekah 2 Comments

In a letter to her sister Cassandra:

"There was a scarcity of men in general, and still greater scarcity of any that were good for much."

I fear that this will be my dismal and concurring view of Provo once I finally leave.

xoxo
-The Romantic