Stood Up

I didn't write at all this week, mainly because the new spring class schedule threw me off so I didn't really realize it was Tuesday and I was tired that day because I'd been at school since 6:30am to try out for the spring ballroom team.
But I also didn't write because I wasn't sure what to write. I don't really know what's going on with my life, except that I fake graduated last week. (I say "fake graduated" because I got to walk across the stage but I'm still in classes until June.)

My bishop didn't show up last week for my mission interview. I didn't find out until later that he'd cancelled all of his appointments for the day....but at the time, I couldn't get a hold of the executive secretary or the bishop. So instead I sat there outside of his office, waiting to see if he'd show up, just thinking "Is this even what I'm supposed to be doing with my life?"

I re-scheduled for tomorrow, so hopefully this time the bishop shows up. If he doesn't, maybe I should take it as a sign?

Oh, and also, Mr. Director broke up with me.
He timed it very well, doing it right in the middle of finals week and on the night when I was supposed to be studying like crazy for my most important final.

But then he came to my convocation and hung out with my family while they were in town.

Can you see why my life is a little confusing?

xoxo,
The Charmer

The Lady and a boy named Dex: The long haul.

Once upon a time, The Lady fell in love. Honest to goodness love. This is the story of her journey in and out of it and back into it again.



The month that followed "The Blip" was blissful, but it was Dex's turn to become uneasy. (A wishy-washy couple we must have been). Dating a coquette was not easy for Dex, and his jealousies finally got the best of him.

One warm October weekend, we threw a bonfire to send off a friend who had just joined the military, and everyone who was anyone was invited. Including Mr. Tennis. Despite our past, Mr. Tennis and I had remained friends--I have the unique ability to keep friendships lasting long past their due date--and we remained flirty friends at that. Dex ran off with a group of friends and I remained near the fire, comfortable in my solitude. Taking advantage of Dex's absence, the dashing Mr. Tennis dragged his camp-chair through the dirt and plopped down next to me. When Dex returned, what was a friendly conversation to to Mr. Tennis and me, appeared to Dex to be a full-out flirting session. He stormed back into the dark without a word and I watched his retreat with an angry defense igniting within. I will never remember the words that passed between Mr. Tennis and myself, I just remember the resentment I harbored for Dex that night. He was childish. Jealous. A fool.

My bitterness must have reached Dex via some cosmic, metaphysical tidal wave emanating from my aura because no sooner had he stormed off than he was storming towards me from the dark. He pulled me up from my chair. "I have to talk to you," he muttered as he led me off into the dark beyond the warmth of the fire. Visions of Dex slapping me or yelling at me flitted through my mind. In that moment I was as scared of him as I was of Mr. Cowboy when he had broken his windshield. And all of this over the same man. The irony couldn't have been more palpable. My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a text from Mr. Tennis. Something stupid about guarding my chastity.

We could see the campfire, but no one could see us. He heaved a sigh, and I looked up at him. No, he would never hurt me. He would never yell. He sat, and so did I. "Lady, my dad thinks we're in over our heads." This wasn't about what his dad thought of our relationship. We both knew that. It was about Mr. Tennis. Of what had occurred in a mere ten minutes. This was about jealousy. This was about The Coquette.

"So do you want to break up?" I offered. My fear had quickly been replaced with my previous fury.

"I suppose so."

"Okay."

We got up and headed towards the fire, Dex went to his car and left me behind. Mr. Tennis had saved my seat.

___________________________

"I feel as though I made the worst mistake of my life," Dex admitted to my sister. "I have to have her back."

The details of when or how Dex and I got back together are vague. It seems as though we simply were apart and then together again. But we did decide that that was the last time we would break up. No more blips. No more wishy-washy jealousies. We were together for the long haul. We had discussed marriage before, but only casually. This time was different. We were determined. A fall wedding. Med school for him. Babies for me. Six, or seven, or eight of them. A house with big windows and a monstrous library. It was all flawless.

I never doubted then, and I have never doubted since that Dex was the man I wanted to marry.


Con Amor,
The Lady


"Who can be in doubt of what followed? When any two young people take it into their heads to marry, they are pretty sure by perseverance to carry their point, be they ever so poor, or ever so imprudent, or ever so little likely to be necessary to each other's ultimate comfort." -Persuasion

I love a good intrigue

Sadly, I never heard back from kBYU. Upon great reflection, I realize that this is probably a good thing. I do need surgery. I should take the opening in July. And the giant YSA conference in California this summer should make things somewhat interesting. 

I have had some fantastic news that's brightened my spirits. I'm taking a little jaunt to Provo next week. I plan to wreak as much havoc as possible. It will be my first appearance in that little hamlet since last August. I pray my mischievous side doesn't get the best of me. I do, however, need to re-tune my flirting skills (read, I'm still extremely awkward around men). 

So whatever the outcome, there's sure to be a rather interesting blog post coming your way. 

xoxo

-the Romantic  

Hunting Down Some Summer Lovin'

Ladies of Anti-Austen,

Summer has recently hit Provo and that means an exodus has occurred. In my specific situation, that means that my ward's boys apartments have turned into married housing. I heard the count of boys to girls yesterday.....seventeen boys. Forty five girls. The three to one ratio is horrible, but in numbers that low!??? It's atrocious. And here I was hoping for some summer love.

Here's the problem. Our guy friends moved to various other apartment complexes and said we should hang out, but how much can we really hangout without looking too forward? Yes my roommate and I might be interested in them, but now it's way out of the way to visit (and they sure didn't help things when they DID live close). Any suggestions on finding new pools of men would be greatly appreciated. Better luck in your endeavors...

Anonymous

Dear Seeker of Summer Love:

Let me begin with an "I hear ya sister!". I'm sure we all are well aware that, for some reason, the guy to girl ratio in Provo never seems to be to our female advantage. I live in an area that's not quite the hub of BYU student wards, resulting in a lot less turnover, so I have had to get creative about the ways that I meet guys. Here is a list of techniques that have helped me to meet men:

• Make friends with more girls. This sounds counter intuitive, but every girl could be a link to a guy that you wouldn't have met otherwise. Maybe it's a guy that she's not interested in, or maybe she has a handsome cousin, or a coworker, or an elder from her mission. The more she likes you, the more likely she is to introduce you to these men. 
• Use your guy friends as keys to more guys. I have a few close guy friends that I'm not going to date, but I am always meeting new guys through. Start hanging out with the guys you know you don't want to date, but still have fun with, and use them for their friends- heck- tell them they need to set you up with some cool dudes. 
• For the guys that you're friends with that you maybe do want to date (like the ones you mentioned in your email), no need to go to them all the time, invite them to group activities. Summer has a ton of activities that you can get guys included on. Host a bbq, organize a camping or hiking trip, have a bonfire, get a group to go to Moab for the weekend, get a pass of all passes crew together and hit up Seven Peaks, see what sporting events are happening. Be liberal with these invitations and tell anyone you invite to invite whoever else they would like, and see where you end up <wink-wink>. 
• Start volunteering. There are tons of ways to get involved in Provo, you can go to  https://yserve.byu.edu/ and find all kinds of opportunities. Not only will you get some satisfaction out of helping people, you'll meet some top caliber men. 
• If you're not already, head to your institute. This will get you access to your whole stake. Also, institute hopping is a lot easier than ward hopping, so see if you can tag along with friends in other stakes. 
• Go to the grocery store, or Walmart, or Taco Bell. Go late at night when you have groups of guys getting midnight snacks. Make eye contact and smile and see if you get any of them to take the bait. And let's be honest, people's inhibitions are lower late at night. You'll be more likely to get your flirt on, and they'll be more likely to respond to it. 
• Lastly, go to everything. Parties, game nights, weddings, movie nights, frisbee in the park, dinner parties, your 5 year old nephews birthday party. The more places you go, the more people you'll meet, the more likely you'll be to have some romantic summer nights in no time. 

Those have probably been my most helpful recommendations, but I'm sure that our readers have plenty more! Let's help this chica out shall we?

Yours Truly,

The Closer

Living on Looks

Being around Bingley feels like being in Jane Austen’s world.  

No it’s not a good thing.

In her world, you go scene after scene with a confused heroine who keeps getting looked at by the man she's in love with.  

No touching. No bursts of affection. Just looks.

I’m starting to empathize with Jane, Elizabeth, Emma, and the rest. I really don’t know how they could live in a world where looks encompassed their interactions with the men they loved.  

No I'm not in love, but I keep waiting for things to progress with dear ol Bingley and so far I'm living off of looks. I try to make it be enough, but sarcasm is starting to sink in every time he gives me this look and I think to myself “aw that was nice, that should last me two more weeks…”

I’m tired.

C'est la vie

The Blue Stocking

The Lady and a boy named Dex: The Blip

Once upon a time, The Lady fell in love. Honest to goodness love. This is the story of her journey in and out of it and back into it again.



Dex and I dated for only a short amount of time before there was a blip in our relationship. Unfortunately, I was the blip.

I was hesitant. Scared to commit. In the back of my head there was a nagging fear. "You will hurt him. Just like you did Mr. Cowboy. It will happen again. Maybe worse this time." Afraid that I would get in over my head, I decided to abandon ship before it sank.

Dex was despairingly understanding. He squeezed my hand and walked out of my apartment. No questions asked. Part of me wished that he would beg for me to reconsider. Beg for me to stay with him. He never did. He just walked away. Collected. Calm. No harsh words. No tears.

It did not take me long (less than a week I'm sure) to realize that I wanted Dex in my life. It took less than a week. But I wasn't sure just how much I wanted him in my life. My indecision was apparent to Dex, and it vexed him. Very much so. He begged me to decide what I wanted. And I hated it. I despised that I had that power over someone else. But I cared for him, and I knew that I had never been happier than when I was with him. I chose for us. Me. Weak, fickle, naive, and selfish as I was, chose that we should be together.

The decision was made.

Dex was relieved and we were happy. Though a seemingly small blip, it made quite the difference to the two of us.

That night he said, "I love you."


Con Amor,
The Lady

"Anne was tenderness itself, and she had the full worth of it in Captain Wentworth's affection." -Persuasion

Agency is the worst sometimes

My life has been such a crazy jumbled mess of decision making this past week, I don't even know where to begin.

Let's just begin with major events in order:
1) On a whim, I start scouring jobs.byu.edu. Also on a whim, I apply for a position as writer/editor with kBYU. Did I mention I'm still living in California?
2) I am asked to speak in Sacrament meeting, sub for gospel doctrine, and speak at institute. All in the same weekend. No big right?
3) I find out that I'm not "subbing" for gospel doctrine as I thought. But rather, I am the new gospel doctrine teacher.
4) At FHE on Monday, I steal creeper glances at the cute football playing/organ playing guy in my ward. I'll now refer to him as Teddy. (Mostly because I think cuddling with him would be reaaaal nice)
5) My dear friend's mother(whose husband is serving in the singles ward bishopbric, making her my best friend in the YSA ward) admonishes me to "go" for Teddy. I agree that this is a good idea and subsequently add him on Facebook later that night (easily persuaded, am I not?)
6) Clever facebook researching (read stalking) reveals that Teddy just turned 30. At 22, I'm at a loss for how I should feel about that (me, the Romantic? at a loss for feelings???)
7) kBYU calls. They are impressed with my resume. They want an interview. Can I come in tomorrow? They need the position filled ASAP. I plead for a phone interview.
8) I frantically search for cheap flights. or grey hound. I'm desperate. I even offer to sale my kidney online.
9) A dear friend takes me up on above mentioned offer. (jokes)
10) I find out I have to re-apply to get back into BYU before my deferment. It appears that I may not be able to get in until January. If that's the case, no job at kBYU (if my dream came true and they actually hired me)
11) Doctor called. He can do surgery in July now.

best case scenario: kBYU hires me. I'm re-admitted into BYU. I move back to Provo. Postpone surgery until Christmas.
a good case scenario: I stay here. Have surgery in July.

My life is changing literally every five minutes!!! No wonder I have a stress pimples the size of Arkansas developing all over my t-zone.

xoxo
-the Romantic

An Announcement...

I have an appointment with the Bishop tomorrow at 8.

.......

I'm going to be starting my mission papers!

I'm terribly excited. It's a little bit surreal...this thing that I've wanted for my entire life is finally here right in front of me.

Now, I know what you're probably thinking. Wait a minute, Charmer, weren't you just telling us two weeks ago about Elder Ballard's talk and how he told you to get married?

Yes, I was.

I have to confess that this announcement is a tad bittersweet.

I promise that I will give you the details on the bitter part, but today my brain is fried from thinking about neurotransmitters and suprachiasmatic nuclei and monoamine oxidase inhibitors.

Yuck.

But I'm sure you're all so busy with finals that you haven't got a spare second to spend reading blogs anyways, right?

xoxo,
The Charmer

The Lady and a boy named Dex: Part I

Once upon a time, The Lady fell in love. Honest to goodness love. This is the story of her journey in and out of it and back into it again.

His name was Dex. (He has previously been referred to as "The Doctor"). He was tall. Incredibly tall. And lurpy. But he was hilarious. At least that's how my sister introduced him to me, "This is Dex, he's hilarious."

One summer, Dex became one of my closest friends. I was friendless in an unfamiliar town, and my expectations for a rekindled relationship with Mr. Tennis had just exploded. Dex adopted me as an honorary member of his group of friends. We had bonded over our mutual love for Coldplay, Regina Spektor, and The Office, as well as the pleasure we derived from belting "I Will Survive" at the top of our lungs. But more than that, Dex was someone whom I could talk to and laugh with. There were no expectations to be met. We were simply always ourselves together, and for one whole magical summer, I was free from boys who expected things from me.

Dex started up his battered car and it rumbled to a start. The night air was warm and my hair was harshly slapping around my face. "You have perfect porn-star hair," he said grinning at me. I scowled, but laughed. He was one of those sorts of people who can get away with saying anything. Dex helped me from the car ceremoniously. Then he hugged me. It was the first time he had hugged me all summer. And in that instant I knew that he liked me. Liked me for more reasons than just my "porn-star" hair, my love for Coldplay, my classical piano skills, or my dumb jokes. He liked all of me. And liked all of me a lot.

Inside, the house was dark. Everyone was already asleep. I wished that I could be oblivious. That I didn't know that he liked me. I didn't know if I could like him. I couldn't imagine myself liking him. I needed him as a friend, and I didn't know if I could handle more than that. Not then.

The shallow and embarrassing truth was that I wasn't physically attracted to Dex. He was tall. Incredibly tall. And lurpy. And I had never been the sort of girl who was attracted to gangly guys with glasses. I was attracted to muscly, rugged men who had played football in high school (hence my attraction to Mr. Cowboy and Mr. Tennis). I wouldn't date him. But he was my friend, and one of the best friends that I had at the time. So I decided upon what I should do: Absolutely nothing. I couldn't address the issue without making it awkward for both parties. So I would do nothing. Pretend to be oblivious.

But Dex didn't let me be oblivious. One night, we went for a walk, not a purposeful "let's take a walk" sort of walk, but just a stroll between friends. Dex put his lanky arm around my shoulders, and I reached up and put my hand in his. I didn't know what I meant by it. I was certain that I didn't like him, and I was afraid of leading him on. (And let me tell you one thing, usually when you hold hands with a boy who likes you, it counts as leading him on.) But putting my hand in his felt natural. It felt appropriate for whatever it was that I was feeling. Friendship? Belonging? Gratitude?

Every time we were together after that--which was frequent--Dex held my hand. And I didn't mind. In fact I liked it. And soon, I liked him. I liked him in spite of his quirks, his height, his throaty laugh. I liked his humor, his generosity, his goodness, his ambition. All of him.

I had avoided telling anyone that there was anything between Dex and myself. I had no desire to make it public knowledge. But for me not to tell my own sister (with whom I share everything) what was happening right under her nose was astounding. After several weeks (which is an excruciatingly long time for me to keep something from my sister) of a secret attraction to Dex I admitted, "I think I might be dating him."

My sister's ability to keep secrets is a match for my own. At a family dinner the next day, she blurted to my older and protective brother, "How would you feel if The Lady was dating someone?" I grimaced. He took a minute to mull it over. "Only if it's Dex." Then, via several prattling cousins and good friends and healthy dose of modern technology, word got back to Dex within ten minutes that there was a rumor going around that the two of us were dating.

Dex called me in a panic. "Lady, people are saying that we are dating!"

My heart froze. Had I falsely labeled our relationship? He didn't want to date me? Was this really some sort of friends-with-benefits fling?

"Oh."

"Do you want to date me?" he asked honestly.

"Yes," I admitted, hoping that it wasn't the wrong answer.

"I guess we're dating then," he said with satisfaction.

Con Amor,
The Lady

"She had been forced into prudence in her youth, she learned romance as she grew older: the natural sequence of an unnatural beginning." -Persuasion

Stuck

I spent last weekend at my cousin's house.

While we were waiting in the insanely long line at Olive Garden, her "celly kept blowin' up" (for lack of a better term).

"Who are you texting?" I asked.

"Well, there's Jim, and Bennett, and Mike." She answered.

"Oh..." Right.

My cousin's been home from school for less than two weeks. She's already had three dates. IN CALIFORNIA. That's virtually unheard of around these parts.

I'll never understand it. The only boys I've been texting of late are my brothers.

It's a strange state of life I'm in these days. Try as I might to keep a positive attitude about the singles ward here, I just find myself longing for Provo like I never have before. There are no openings for my type of surgery until late summer, or early fall. (insert the most distraught noise you can think of here)

SO. It appears I'm stuck. No social life. And no hope of even having one any time soon. I really could care less about dating at this point. I would just like some friends.

I'm destined to lead the life of Jane Austen in the 21st century. Instead of a pen as my companion, I'll live with a keyboard by my side.

xoxo

-the Romantic

ps. What do you think of this article? I read it this morning and found it to be quite interesting. Does it matter to you to graduate with a "marriage certificate"? I never thought it did before. But after spurts in the singles ward here, I'm not so sure.

I Hope I Get Married

I have been thinking a lot about hope the past few days, especially how that relates to my last post about emotional roller-coasters, so I thought I'd get real with you today. I was talking with a friend yesterday and he mentioned the scripture in Hebrews that says:

"Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and stedfast..."

I came to understand that I have been putting my hope into the wrong things, rather than the right person, Jesus Christ.             

A real hope in Christ and His promised blessings allows us to remain steady and anchored. 

I was putting hope into the "potential relationships" I found myself encountering, which are fickle things, and not safe places for my hope to abide. Sure the excitement is thrilling, like a roller-coaster, but that's not a ride I want to be on for any extended period of time. 

In this same conversation, we talked about the things that we go to for comfort. If I hear bad news, I might go to a friend to express my hurt. If I don't want to face my responsibilities, I might turn on the tv. This friend referenced an article he read in the Liahona, that mentioned the scripture in 2 Nephi that says:

 "Others will he pacify, and lull them away into carnal security..."

The woman in the article realized that she was 

seeking comfort in carnal things, 

versus 

seeking healing in Christ.

And I realized that I am guilty of the same thing.

Are we seeking to find comfort in dating or relationships? Do we have an everlasting hope in Christ that gives us an anchor of strength and confidence in His will and plan for us? Are we trusting that the Lord really is trying to make us happy even when it feels like what we want keeps slipping through our fingers?

I love the verse that teaches us to "be still and know that I am God". 

We can have peace and comfort that the Lord can 

heal us, comfort us, and strengthen us. 

As long as we give Him the opportunity to. 

Yours Truly, 

The Closer

The Bait Determines the Catch

This week Bingley and I texted off and on, but since we were both going home for Easter, we didn’t get to hang out. At this point I just realized that he is a busy guy who likes moving slow….really really slow. And a part of me is hoping that once summer hits, things will speed up and get better. HOPEFULLY.

On Sunday I went early to ward prayer and this time it was like it used to be back in January and February. Let me explain. We were with each other the whole time, and we ended up staying and talking, just the two of us. We even planned some fun future dates. Not too shabby if I do say so myself.

I just hope we can keep this up.

Now onto something I’ve been thinking about for a while now. I have a lot of girl friends that don’t know how to get a guy to like them or ask them out. Each of these girls, at one point or another, feels like they have to indulge in some silly dating game in order to get him to notice them. This is what I think…

The bait determines the catch.

If you bait a guy using lies and trickery, you’re only going to get caught in a tricky situation swimming in those lies.

If you bait a guy using your body, you’re going to catch something quite slimy.

If you bait a guy by becoming someone you’re not, you’re going to end up with someone who will never know you.

Ultimately, if you want a guy who likes you for who you are, then you need to be you when you get him.

Does that make sense?

Leave the games up to the romantic comedies, and just go talk to him. It’s simple and it will probably keep things from getting o so messy.

C'est la vie,

The Blue Stocking

Woman is fine for her own satisfaction alone.

I am the best luck any man could ever stumble upon. If, as a man, you are looking for the right girl to marry and to settle down with, date me. You will fall head over heels in love within months. Because, as I said, I am the good luck charm.

The sad fact is, that the luck does not work in the opposite direction {towards myself}. If a man dates me {or even toys with the idea of dating me} he will marry the next girl to step into his life. Let us review the statistics.

The full-fledged list of all the men The Lady has dated/almost dated:

1. Mr. Cowboy---Happily Wedded {Last girl dated before marriage: The Lady}

2. Mr. Tennis---Happily Wedded {Last girl dated before marriage: The Lady}

3. The Best Friend---Recently Engaged {Last girl to have a fling with before engagement: The Lady}

4. The Doctor---Single {Last girl dated: The Lady}

5. Mr. Slipshod---Happily Wedded and Producing Offspring {Last girl dated before marriage: The Lady}

6. Mr. Rival---On his way towards engagement {Last girl considered dating: The Lady}

7. The Sergeant---Happily Wedded {Last girl considered dating before marriage: The Lady}

I can't quite put my finger on it, but there seems to be some mysterious common denominator within all of these cases. I am going to submit the results to some statisticians, so hopefully they can help me out. I'll get back to you.

Con Amor,
The Lady

P.S. Have a lovely Easter weekend!

Riding the Roller Coaster of Romance

Finding a happy medium between girlish excitement and staying grounded in realistic expectations is a challenging thing to do. When I like a guy I get downright giddy with excitement, and I have to admit, it's one of my favorite feelings. It is a constant battle to keep reminding myself to have realistic expectations, although I think I am getting better. You may have noticed that I seem to have boy ADD (*ahem* yes you, anonymous commenter)... well, I'd like to think that this is a good thing (like you other lovely commenters who defended me) and I'll tell you why. (I promise this is not me being passive aggressive, but it did cause me to do some personal reflection.)

1. My excitement about various guys is an indicator of hope, and trying to date without hope is just depressing. I've seen enough friends get let down time and time again only to suddenly meet an incredible companion, to have plenty of hope and to let that hope get me excited.

2. As much as I may get excited, I work hard not to let myself get too excited too soon. I am pretty good at letting go when I start to see that it's just not going anywhere. It's not crushing, or debilitating, it's just... a bummer. I can live with bummers.

What these two things translate into is a what looks like a roller-coaster ride, where each up and down is a different boy. I guess it's either that or sitting in a roller-coaster car that isn't moving. I have said before that dating is a numbers game, and I still believe that. I would be happy to keep my excitement and attention honed in on one guy, but then you would just get posts every week about how Mr. So-And-So still hasn't asked me out, and who wants to read about that?

I guess maybe someone might, but I'd rather not write about it.

I will say that sometimes after the roller-coaster goes up and then back down again, it will coast along for a while and slowly start to creep back up...

Like what happened this week with Happy McSmiles.

Last week I was frustrated at misreading signals, and I have now decided that this was not my fault. I am being sent the wrong signals, somewhere at least. I had resigned myself to the fact that Happy McSmiles wasn't interested because he essentially told me that I am too tall for him to date. I've still been just as friendly to him and when I saw him last week I invited him to a brunch I was holding between conference sessions on Sunday. He asked me to write down the info, so I gave him a slip of paper with my address and phone number on it, and he said he was planning on coming. Then I got a text Saturday night (part of me thinks putting the exact conversation here is risky, but I'm going to bank on him not regularly reading this blog):

Him: "Hey this is Happy from Place! I was reviewing this note that I got from you and saw that it had your phone number. :) I thought I would text you to make sure my plan for tomorrow was ok with you. May I come watch the first session with you? I will probably leave before pancakes because some friends in the ward got tickets to the afternoon session. Is that ok?"

Me: "Hey Happy! That would be just fine, there should be a few people coming, and may even be some food ready too :)."

Him: "Sweet I am excited. If you want I could come over early to help cook..."

Me: "Actually that'd be great, want to come over half an hour early?"

Him: "Sure! I will see you at 9:30. :)"

Me: "Perfect, see you then!"

Do you see now why I was confused? I pow-wowed with my roommates and we decided that if he is indeed not interested, he is sending the wrong signals.

He came to help cook, and then sat by me during the morning session and we bantered a bit (whilst still being as reverent as possible...), then he sent me a thank you text an hour or so after he left for letting him come eat and enjoy conference.

So now his roller coaster is creeping back up... but just a little bit this time.

Yours Truly,

The Closer

The Conference Mandate

So this weekend Elder Ballard told me to get married.

Guess I know what I'll be doing in four months...








I really thought about just leaving the post at that. But I figured I should probably elaborate and give you a story about the time the Charmer was chastised in general conference.

So, about 6ish months ago I decided that by March I would have made up my mind about whether or not I would be putting in mission papers after graduation. (Well, technically, I'd thought I had that decided for a long time...but then Mr. Director came around and so what I'd figured was a surety turned into a less-than-sure-thing. I realized I might have to make a decision between a mission and marriage).

March snuck up, as the months seem to do, and then this weekend I realized it suddenly wasn't March anymore. And unfortunately, I hadn't quite made up my mind.

So, late at night on March 31 I stubbornly decided that I needed to pick something (after all, I said I would!). I decided to pick the mission. It seemed like a much safer option (I am a gamophobe, after all). The next morning, I obstinately decided to tell Mr. Director.

Unsurprisingly, he didn't take the news very well.

Luckily I could pull it off as an April Fool's joke ... Kind of.

Still, I continued my cheeky (and probably blasphemous behavior) by informing him that unless I got a talk in conference telling me to get married, I would be inclined to pursue the mission. I think Mr. Dir gave up on the conversation at this point, but not before he pointed out that that particular decision was probably a flawed one.

Anyways, we're sitting in the conference center during the Saturday afternoon session. Elder Ballard stands up to the podium. Of all the apostles, I've always had the hardest time relating to Elder Ballard; however, at this particular moment I had the impression that it would be very important for me to pay close attention to his talk.

Well, needless to say, I got my talk. And Mr. Director was elbowing me and loving it the whole time. (That is, until Elder Ballard chastised all the single men. Then I felt that it was appropriate to elbow Mr. Dir right back.)

Anyway, Mr. Dir and I are officially dating again, so I guess we'll see if we end up following Elder Ballard's counsel or not.

Toodles,
The Charmer

To Pursue or Be Pursued: That is the Question

Last week I got this comment from a reader, “If a guy isn't trying his best to have you, then he probably isn't the best for you?...”

I’ve now spent a week thinking about it in connection with dear Mr. Bingley and I’ve realized there is a choice we must all make concerning the person we like: are we to pursue or wait to be pursued?

Lately things with Bingley are not what you would call ideal. Our relationship started with him picking and choosing when to talk to me at social functions and I believed this erratic behavior would cease once we got to know each other through our various dates.

I was wrong.

I feel like I’ve used the word confusing so many times this month that it has lost its meaning.

My roommates—the careful observers of the situation—have split and firmly sided on either the pursue team or the be pursued team.

The first side believes that I am playing it too cool and the boy has no idea what to do with me. They think that little ol’ me has the capacity to intimidate Bingley, and I need to put myself out there more. The course of action they’ve prescribed is a girl ask guy date. This makes me want to die inside...

The second side believes his behavior is unacceptable. This fellow should know better than play silly mind game, like his favorite “I’ll go to church and never speak to the girl I’ve gone on dates with for almost two months” {I for one am not a fan of that game}. Instead, they believe that I deserve to be pursued and anything less than that will simply not do.

Here’s where I stand. I think that yes, I do play it cool, but not without good reason. If a boy doesn’t have the decency to return a text message—by far the laziest form of communication-- then I should not be expected to hang all over him.

But I feel like for weeks I’ve been precariously walking the dating tightrope that straddles the pursuing side and the be pursued side, and all the while I’m praying that I don’t fall and mess everything up.

Ultimately, I hate feeling like I’m eagerly waiting for him to realize he likes me and once he does he can come running into my open arms. I deserve to be wooed. I deserve to be won over. I deserve better than this.

The romantically inclined,

Blue Stocking