With insufferable vanity had she believed herself in the secret of everybody's feelings.

11/30/2012 The Lady 8 Comments

I am ever the Emma. Always much too certain that I know whom everyone loves and whom everyone should love. And also much like Emma, I am always wrong. But that never stops me. Oh, no, it does not.

I received a great shock the other day when The Preacher dropped by my apartment to inform me that he had become engaged. ENGAGED! This means that he has managed to find, woo, and convince a woman to marry him in little less than two months. Naturally, I congratulated him on his great accomplishment, but I probably seemed more confused than ecstatic. It is very much like Mr. Elton's returning from London with a wife on his arm. Of course I am happy for The Preacher, he deserves to be happy, and if he has found someone who makes him happy, well then huzzah! But I am just utterly bewildered. Engaged? In less than two months? 

How is this accomplished?

I suppose I haven't been spending my time as wisely as I should. 

Con Amor,
The Lady

Of Zodiac Signs and Tickling

11/24/2012 The Romantic 3 Comments

Oh, where to start dear readers?

I'm still trying to figure out how a night that begin with such hope ended so dismally.

I think it may have started Wednesday night when Pacha texted me to confirm our date for the next day. There was nothing wrong with the way he texted me, or anything he said. It was just lacking in... a certain quick wit.

And yet I was still so hopeful for Wednesday night. Even after he texted to say he got caught up at work and that he'd be late, I was still hopeful.

I think it was after I opened the door Wednesday night to see Pacha wearing a sweatshirt that my heart fell a little. He confessed later that it was the only BYU apparel he had. But a little effort is always nice. Amirite?

Things got worse after we got into the car.

"So, where do you want to eat tonight?" he asked.

I swear, the next time a guy asks me that, I'm saying Tucano's. Or better yet, Chef's Table.

Here's why it's wrong to ask a girl that question guys: You are paying. We don't know what your budget is, or how much you want to spend on a date. Also, it shows a lack of planning. I get your trying to be nice. I do. But just show some initiative! 

After a few minutes of dancing around the topic he finally asked if we could go out for Asian food. I said yes, secretly hoping that we would be eating Korean food, and not Chinese. Chinese food always makes me sick. It's too greasy for my stomach to handle. Any other Asian food would have been better.

I was trying to cut the poor kid some slack. He was obviously nervous to be with me; as evidenced by his coming to a complete stop at a green light on the way to the restaurant.

When we walked into the restaurant I knew the rest of the night was doomed. It was a Chinese place. It was THE Chinese place that my favorite mission companion had told me was the location for one of her worst dates ever. Every bad date to get Chinese food happens at this place. Before we ordered, we read the zodiac place mats.

"So, what are you?" he asked.

"I'm a cobra," I answered. We glanced down to read the description. It mentioned something about unparalleled beauty. 

"Well, they got that part right," Pacha said.

Oh barf. He was already skating on thin ice after he'd put his hand on my thigh in the car. That comment had thinned it out even more.

The plan after dinner was to meet up with a group of people (including his brother who is in our ward) and go to the basketball game.

And here we see more lack of planning. The brothers didn't ask anyone else along. So guess who ended up on a weird plyg-date to the basketball game?

Yes. That's right. This girl. 

I wanted to talk to Pacha's brother to make it less awkward. But he was sitting on the other side of Pacha and my slightly deaf ears couldn't make out anything he said over the "roar of the cougars". That combined with the knots my stomach was in from the Chinese food made me less than chatty.

Right before Pacha's brother left ten minutes before the end of the game, they engaged in a little horse play by poking and tickling each other, as brothers are often wont to do. So, that wasn't the weird part for me. The weird part was when Pacha turned and asked me if I was ticklish as soon as he brother started walking down the Marriot Center steps.

"No," I said.

And then before I could even digest what was happening, HE PUT HIS ARM AROUND ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


BAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

I tried so hard not to physically shrink from his touch. But inwardly I panicked. My body just froze. The amount of physical interaction I've had with men since I've been home from my mission has been a big fat ZERO. What to do? I had thought he might try and put the moves on me, but I didn't prepare for what my reaction would be if actually happened.

"Are you sure you're not ticklish?" he flirted.

"Nope, not at all. Why? Are you going to try something right now?" I tried not to be too cold as I said that.

He gingerly pulled his arm away.

The game ended. The cougars killed it. Pacha, however, did not.

When he dropped me off, he got out of the car to give me a hug. But he didn't walk me to the door. I'm still confused about that one. But oh well.

Eternally single, but eternally yours,
the Romantic 

A Lady should be allowed to say no every once in a while

11/22/2012 The Blue Stocking 1 Comments

I’m Alive!

In other news, I think I mentioned that there was a certain someone in my ward who I liked me, but I didn’t like him and he was friends with my apartment. Well if I didn’t that last sentence was a complete summary.

The reason I bring him up is he is the first guy that I have ever said no to for a first date.

Now before you unleash your wrath of abhorrence at my dreadful behavior, let me explain the situation.

The World's Shortest DTR

11/21/2012 The Closer 4 Comments

Big weekend folks.

Mr. Manager came over on Sunday for dinner. We ate and chatted for an hour or so, and after we finished eating he was showing me a cut on his finger, so I went upstairs to get some ointment for it. When I came downstairs he had moved over to the living room and was sitting on the couch, so I went and sat by him.

We got his cut all bandaged back up and then he just put his arm around me, no shyness, just went for it. I leaned onto his shoulder and just kept talking with him, and was still fiddling with the ointment because I was so nervous. Meanwhile he listened intently to my stories and rubbed my arm. After a while of that he asked to see the ointment, and ended up setting it on the other side of him, and then taking my hand with his free hand.

At this point things started to open up in the conversation, he told me how much he likes me, and we started to talk about the various times we considered dating the other and never did anything about it. Apparently for a long time, he was convinced there was no way I would ever date him. As it turns out, we've both been fighting the same feelings for a while now. It wasn't long after this that we kissed, and it was fabulous.

Now Mr. Manager has never struck me as the romantic type... but as it turns out, he is sweet, and tender, and affectionate. And now that the walls are down, he is like a whole different guy, in all the best ways.

One of the times that he kissed me on Sunday, because yes, there were several, he paused and said "Just so you know, this means we're dating exclusively".

I woke up smiling the next day, and haven't really stopped smiling all week.

Yours Truly,

The Closer

Perks of Staying in Provo

11/21/2012 The Romantic 2 Comments

A summary of conversations taking place during my ward's "much&mingle" last Sunday:

RS secretary approaches the group of girls I'm sitting with...

RS secretary: Are you guys going to the girl's choice stake dance?

Blank stares by our group... 

RS secretary: Here's all the reasons you should go.... (as she started on the list of reasons why the stake dance was going to be "super fun" I stopped listening. It was like she morphed into the teacher on Charlie Brown. You've all had moments like this, yes?) 

 And then I saw a golden opportunity. 

Pacha, just standing there alone. 

Pacha and I have been in the same ward all semester. For the most part, our conversations haven't moved past general pleasantries. In fact, the Emma side of my personality has been trying to convince one of my best friends to date him. My encouragement to her on his behalf always fell on deaf ears. 

Which is pretty fortunate for me I suppose.

After Pacha's talk this last Sunday, something suddenly shifted.  Forget my friend, I decided that I should get to know Pacha better. 

Thus when the golden opportunity presented itself, I couldn't resist. I had to at least talk to him(something I don't do very often with men anymore). 

Me: Hey Pacha (I even touched his elbow here, you'd be so proud dear readers), I just wanted to tell you that I really appreciated your talk today. It was really good.

Pacha: Hey thanks. And I just wanted to tell you that your blog post (from my personal blog, don't worry) from this week meant a lot to me. I was having a rough day and it really picked me up.

Me: Yeah, of course! I almost didn't post it, so.... (I'm so eloquent sometimes) Anyway, you're just really great, so I'm glad it helped.

Pacha: You're really great too.... Can I get a hug?

Me: Uh yeah.... for sure.

We then proceeded to "hug it out" as you young people say. I promise it wasn't as awkward as this blog post makes it seem. 

Me: Hey, we should hang out sometime (my whole goal in going up to talk to him in the first place)!

Pacha: Actually, what are you doing on Wednesday? Will you be in town?

Me: Yeah, I'm sticking around.

He then got my number, and plans were made. Dinner and the basketball game. I only wish I had some sort of BYU apparel. What does one wear to a basketball game!?

Not to discount Mr. Lowe, because I do think he was somewhat interested in me, but I feel like this is my first real date since I've been home from the mission. Real date meaning a guy has asked me out based purely on his interest in me. No scheming on my part (or my stake president's). This is just because he thinks I'm great. And I can't help but be a little bit excited about that.

Happy Thanksgiving!

xoxo
-the Romantic

ps. Here's my new favorite song. Just because. 

Had Elizabeth been able to encounter his eye.

11/17/2012 The Lady 2 Comments

Characters in Jane Austen novels never touch. EVER. In the end when the characters finally get married, there is never a description of a kiss or an embrace, only a touch of the hand (if we're lucky). But there does seem to be a lot of love-darting eyes. Apparently, this was the way to let your fellow know that he was the one for you. Telling someone you loved them was simply a matter of giving the right look.

Will a snail's pace win the race?

11/14/2012 The Closer 2 Comments

Where's the nearest convent?

11/03/2012 The Romantic 7 Comments

For a moment try to imagine the most horrifically embarrassing thing that could ever happen to you on a date. Think for a minute about what would make you want to curl up in a cave and live there by yourself, with only your own filthy stench as a companion.

Ok, so maybe what happened last night wasn't quite that dramatic, but it was still pretty awful. 

Earlier yesterday, I started to feel the littlest of hints that my monthly guest would be arriving shortly (I was having cramps, just in case you needed me to spell it out for you). Little hints notwithstanding,  the timing of this monthly guest can still be so unpredictable. So, before leaving last night, I popped a few pain killers and packed a tampon in my purse. Simply as a precaution.

With our respective dates in tow, my friend Rosalind and I made our way to Mountain West Burrito. We stood in line, chatted. Nervous as I was, I'm afraid I didn't offer very much to the conversation  as Dante and I walked up to the cash register to order. I was already a little afraid of the moment being awkward because I was paying (things like that can be ambiguous when the girl asks the guy). So I quickly said our orders and reached inside my little purse to pull out my wallet.

As I pulled out my wallet, I felt something fly out of my bag. "Hm," I thought, "I wonder what that was." I opened my wallet. And then proceeded to look down. 

And there was my tampon. Just lying on the ground for all the world to see. I panicked as the person at the register looked at my expectantly. Dante was standing behind me, so I had no idea if he'd seen or not. Very discreetly, I inched my foot forward and placed it over the tampon and paid for dinner. As I shoved my wallet and then debit card back into my purse, I bent down and picked the blasted thing up as quickly and sneakily as I could and shoved it back into my purse.

MORTIFIED. I WAS MORTIFIED. When I turned to look back, Dante was getting us waters. So I have no idea if he saw.

But Rosalind and her date saw. Later, when Dante stepped into the bathroom, they applauded me for my quick thinking in stepping on it. However, I'm fairly certain another couple saw. So, there's really no way he couldn't have seen. Unless he really was looking at the menu the whole time like Rosalind and her date said.

I think the biggest irony is that I would find this completely hilarious if it happened to someone else. Or if I was with someone I wasn't trying desperately to impress. But it didn't. It happened to me. And it happened with Dante.

I tried to play it cool the rest of the night. I think he had an ok time. At least he enjoyed the movie we saw (Troll Hunter at the International Cinema). We hugged goodbye at the doorstep (we also hugged hello when I picked him up; a little different, but I'm not complaining).

After the date, I headed over to Rosalind's place to analyze everything (it's what girls do). Rosalind came to the conclusion that Dante was a "hunk" as well as being the "perfect man". I suddenly couldn't believe I actually had the audacity to ask someone like that out. As we continued to discuss the night, I did some math and realized that since Dante got to go on his mission at 18(mission president father) and came home just last January, it's still possible he's 20. And I also found out he's a freshman. Chances are he's probably not interested in a spinster of a 23 year-old like me. Might as well start buying cats now. Ps. I don't even like cats.

Am I ever going to find someone to share a couple snuggie with?

xoxo
-the Romantic 

The Clive Cycle

11/02/2012 The Lady 1 Comments

Remember Clive? Whom The Preacher claimed was the perfect man for me? I never told you exactly what happened between us before he went off to Ivy League School.

At the end of the summer, I was consumed with a bit of good madness. Clive was moving across the country to Ivy League School, and I would be graduating and leaving BYU in December. There was not much to lose, but very much to gain if it was possible. I determined to tell Clive of my feelings for him (which I do not believe I will ever be able tell another man ever again).

With trembling limbs, I climbed the stairs to Clive's apartment. I nearly turned back several times, and my knock on his door was barely audible. He invited me in and we had a great conversation about the two of us. Our admiration for each other and all that jazz, but nothing ever came of that conversation. A few weeks later I watched Clive drive away towards Ivy League School without the faintest hope that I would ever even see him again, let alone marry him. (Which was my secret determination as you may have guessed).

But there exists, The Clive Cycle. I still think about him often and secretly hope that he'll come back to Provo to whisk me away to Ivy League School to be his Ivy League Wife. And then I despair that such a thing will never happen, then I'll become angry at his obvious lack of love for me (we're perfect for each other!), then I'll remember how wonderful he truly is and how lucky I would be to be Mrs. Clive. Around and around, again and again. And Clive and I only ever communicate to discuss our mutual love and frustrations for Downton Abbey. (Just imagine, I could be the wife of man who loves Downton Abbey). It is a circle with no progression or purpose. Some days it exists to keep me sane, to remind me that there are wonderful men in this world; other days it exists to remind me that wonderful men don't seem to find me as equally wonderful.

I am a perpetual Edith.

Con Amor,
The Lady

Here's how I feel about...

11/01/2012 The Romantic 6 Comments

A thousand heart felt thanks for your words of advice dear readers.Upon much reflection, here's what I think about asking guys out on dates:

If it's not too often, why not? My sophomore year (years before this blog's genesis), my room mates and I were very close indeed. Tired of the weekly routine of watching a movie on a projector every Friday night at our guy friends' apartment, we decided to plan room mate dates. Maybe two or three a semester.

Four of those room mates are married to men that they asked out first. Pretty telling, isn't it? 

I know guys like "the chase" and all that. And I've actually never dated any of the guys I've asked out. But I think it's an enlightening experience for a couple reasons; but mostly for the experience of actually asking someone out. It's completely nerve wracking! I always forget how difficult it is. My heart is just so full of empathy for every man that's ever asked any girl to do anything ever. It's a rough and tumble dating world out there.

It took me a good hour to work up the nerve to call Dante (he won over FHE dad) last night. That's an entire hour of sweaty palms, a racing heart, and me pacing from my bedroom to the living room and back again.

I even called my favorite mission companion to role play it with me. I ROLE PLAYED A PHONE CALL PEOPLE! Nervous doesn't even begin to describe my crazed emotions.

After creeper-ing his number off of lds.org (how else was I gonna do this?), I let the logical side of my brain take over. What was the worst that could happen?

Worst case scenario: He thinks I'm a total weirdie/creeper-pants (I just made that up, like it?). Says no. And avoids me at church.... or just moves out of the ward altogether because he thinks I might be stalking him/have a shrine built to him in my basement.
Ok, so not desirable but survivable.

More likely worst case scenario: He is busy and can't come. And even if he's just lying, I'll be left in ignorant bliss.

Or he says yes. eeeeeekkkk!

After mulling over each possible outcome, I finally dialed.

I explained that I had a friend that really wanted to go out with this boy, but she didn't want to just ask him out. So she asked me to double with her. And then I asked if he would go with me.

And he said yes. And he said it enthusiastically. I don't know which fact took me by surprise more(because he's just sooo cool, I figured he would be busy already). 

All of my friends that have heard this story have offered exclamations of pride and congratulations. And I have to admit, I'm a little proud of myself too. If its in my power to not sit at home this Friday night and watch Korean soap operas, then I should shake things up a bit! Social conventions be danged! I am a proud, single, independent woman of Provo!

*coughs*

Ok, so maybe I'm getting a little too suffragette on myself, and I digress. The point is, I'm excited. And nervous. And going in with the expectation to just have a good time. And that's why I think it's ok to ask guys out sometimes.

xoxo
-the Romantic