tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89365378748473448142024-03-17T00:52:24.421-06:00The Anti-AustenThe Anti-Austenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11970646614276309244noreply@blogger.comBlogger647125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-23740191565821294682019-02-16T17:30:00.001-07:002019-02-16T17:42:01.861-07:00An Ending to the Charmer's Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Well, my dearest readers, it certainly has been a while. A <i>long </i>while. In fact, I checked and I haven't posted on this blog in over two years...and my last post was about using Tinder.<br />
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Like I said, it has been a while.<br />
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I don't know how many people (if any) still frequent this blog. Probably very few. However, I didn't like the fact that I left you without any ending to my story. So, for those who might still peruse these pages, curious about whatever happened to the former Austens, I decided I'd come back once more to give you an ending to the Charmer's ever entertaining and dramatic love life.<br />
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And the ending is this: Tomorrow is my 9-month anniversary of being married to the one man on earth who is an utterly perfect match for me.<br />
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Yes, the never-ending stream of suitors and awkward first dates finally came to an end! The Charmer was finally wooed and won over and she couldn't be happier that things turned out the way they did.<br />
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It's amusing to think back to my time on this blog, when I'd give advice and share tales of all the men persistently chasing me. Even though everything was 100% true, I think I would laugh at many of the things I wrote because I (incorrectly) thought I was such an expert on dating and relationships. I'm sure I would cringe at the things I shared about past boyfriends and flings. I enjoyed the chase. I enjoyed the drama. I definitely enjoyed the free meals. But I don't think I ever realized what it meant to be completely emotionally open, vulnerable, and 100% myself in a relationship until I met the man who would become my husband.<br />
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I say "met". I should say "finally collided with." Because, ironically, he & I crossed paths probably a dozen times before we finally went on a date. Even when I was writing on this blog back in 2012, complaining about my terrible on-again-off-again relationship with Mr. Director, the man I would marry was metaphorically bumping into me. He attended the play I was in at BYU where Mr. Director earned his moniker. My future husband was with me as an EFY counselor in Tacoma, WA right before I received my mission call. I snuck his best friend into my high school's prom. Our dads served their missions together. WE ARE FROM THE SAME CITY and I am convinced that we danced together at a stake dance (although he is also convinced that we did <i>not</i> because "he would remember me"). And for those of you who doubt that dating apps work, well, that's actually what finally brought us together--good old Mutual, the LDS dating app.<br />
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But I guess it's not really the process that matters so much. Probably the most important thing I learned was that when the timing was finally right, it happened. We collided. I went through years of heartbreak and subpar relationships, wondering if maybe I was the sort of person who wasn't cut out to be married, wondering if there was actually a man out there for me...and hilariously, I'd probably danced with him in a church gym when I was 14.<br />
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But there were so many things that had to fall into place before it was right. I remember praying in my younger years that God would make it "obvious" when I finally crossed paths with the man I was meant to marry, hoping for some kind of big revelatory reveal. But that's not how He works...and thank goodness! If I had received some incredible revelation during those weeks of EFY in 2012 that the counselor playing soccer with me was my future husband, what would that have done for me? Absolutely nothing! I was fretting over Mr. Director and getting ready to go on a mission. My future hubs was engaged to someone else. We both had a long way to go before we were ready for each other.<br />
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But we eventually got there. And I've discovered that the old cliche is true: there really is nothing as wonderful as being married to your best friend. Sure, marriage is sometimes frustrating and challenging, but it is also so much more fun and rewarding than I'd ever imagined.<br />
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There's so much I could say about him but I won't overdo it. Thank you, readers, for letting me share my journey with you. If I'm not mistaken, it's been almost 9 years since I first penned a post on this blog. Thank you for giving me an outlet to vent, to laugh, to share, and to finally find my way into a perfectly wonderful romance. I wish each of you the best of luck on your own love-filled journeys.<br />
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With deepest sentiments,<br />
--The Charmer<br />
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(PS- One last thing you might enjoy. My record for dates in one week was 15. His is 17. We are so perfectly matched it borders on being ridiculous)The Charmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13860052236314030630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-75349527936840688672016-11-14T05:02:00.002-07:002017-04-12T11:33:56.028-06:00I do not want people to be very agreeable.<div data-mh="-1" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;">
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<i>I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them a great deal.</i></div>
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<i>-Jane Austen</i></div>
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Same, Jane. <i>Same. </i></div>
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The past weekend (and the Grant debacle) has led me to a lot of self-reflection, and I've come to a conclusion that was apparently obvious to everyone but me: I only want men to like me once I've already decided I like them. </div>
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*Sigh.* </div>
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I think, naturally, we all want potential beaus to progress at the same speed we do on the spectrum from admiration to marriage. I'm of the personal opinion that timing is just as important as any other one aspect in finding an eternal companion. After all, don't "He's going too fast," and "I'm tired of waiting for him to be ready," make the Top 10 list of dating complaints?</div>
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But really, in the grand scheme of things, isn't that a shame? That you'd lose out on something great only because the stars weren't aligned that day? Perhaps, though, that's divine intervention. Otherwise, what would stop you from ending up with them?</div>
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Anyway, no conclusions beyond that one were drawn. I'm still not interested in Grant, though recognized that the above reason was a big part of that. I ended up talking with him and explained that I just wanted to be friends. He was surprisingly okay with that, which I was <i>very</i> excited about. But since, he's only increased his flirting (in a "haha-just-kidding-but-seriously" way). At least he knows now. </div>
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Despite the unfairness of wanting available suitors to accommodate <i>my</i> timeline, there's something undeniably beautiful about two people falling for each other at the same time.</div>
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And then I want them to like me <i>more </i>than I like them, but that's an entirely different post.</div>
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With all the love in my flighty little heart,</div>
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The Dilettante</div>
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The Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16817428684421220278noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-16857843487219687312016-11-11T05:41:00.002-07:002017-04-11T09:51:21.410-06:00A man's imagination is very rapid.I want to tell you about a moment of utter panic that I had this morning. It looked a little like this:<br />
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For alas, I made the mistake of being too charming last night on my date with Grant.</div>
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Now, I like Grant. I met him a couple months ago when he was visiting my YSA ward. He thinks I'm funny, and he's really nice. But he doesn't <i>talk</i>. It's like pulling nails to get him to say words. </div>
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My response to painfully awkward silence is babbling. About anything. So when I'm with him, I just yammer on like Foghorn Leghorn. My entire life story comes out. It's over, and the silence is still awkward. I start telling my friends' life stories.</div>
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He's told me twice now that he loves listening to me talk. Drat.</div>
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Last night was our first date, but I'd managed to convince myself we were just hanging out. Grant told me on our walk that he'd recently had to cut ties with his last group of friends, and he was grateful he could just come to the city and do something. <i>Great! </i>I thought. I mean, after all, I was wearing sweats. And hadn't washed my hair in two days. Sorta on purpose. <i>I'm just starting up his next friend group. He'll probably make a bunch more, and we can hang out in groups so there are more people talking. </i>He pointed out his favorite restaurant, and said we should go next week. I agreed, but hinted that we should invite some of the other YSAs. Just a bunch of friends.</div>
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Then this.</div>
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Tell me, dear friends. What would Jane Austen do?</div>
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Clueless as always,</div>
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The Dilettante</div>
The Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16817428684421220278noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-4494146566132511102016-11-03T11:04:00.001-06:002017-04-11T09:53:19.571-06:00The Moment When Casual Became Too Casual for the DilettanteThe thing that drew me the most to UVU Boy wasn't his love for older Pokemon games and Super Smash Bros (though I'm a closet gamer). It wasn't his mission pictures, or his adorable nieces and nephews, or his fake, knitted beard. It wasn't even the fact that when we met, we had a conversation where we planned a real-life Oregon Trail trip, and it was one of the most hilarious conversations I've ever had. It was because he was so laid back.<br />
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I hate digital-age dating. As if small talk wasn't bad enough, it's like we have to stay in constant communication to really be close, and that means dragging out the small talk and putting it on Facebook messenger or in texts. </div>
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Maybe it's because I haven't been head-over-heels in love with someone since MSN Messenger was still a thing, but for me, what starts out as a fun and flirty relationship often ends up looking a lot like the conversation on the left. Being a good listener is one of my best traits, and I love it, but it tends to draw some pretty needy people. More often than finding someone I can have balanced conversation with, I end up with a guy who doesn't need a girlfriend as much as he need some sort of robot that throws him an affirmation every few minutes.</div>
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UVU Boy wasn't like that, though. He didn't feel the need to constantly be talking to me. When we both felt like it, we'd have a really good conversation via text or in person. Dates were fun, and I never felt insecure about whether he liked me or not.</div>
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"Great!" you say. "Why didn't you try to start something serious?" you say. Two reasons: (1.) I surprised myself by being really really comfortable with this "Are they, aren't they?" thing, and (2.) just before I met UVU Boy, I wore myself out going after a guy who put in no effort at all, and I vowed that I was NOT going to be the initiator with whoever I dated next. </div>
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Months passed, though, and nothing changed about the way we interacted with each other. Our talks, our jokes...they weren't all the same, but they weren't <i>building</i> to anything. I'm no stranger to slow-burn relationships, but Season Seven of our TV banter was still looking an awful lot like Season One's. </div>
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Both of us were sitting there under the expectation that someday we'd both decide to be more serious. After all, we got along great, didn't we? But neither of us really felt like we needed to be more serious yet. Even more months passed (nine, to be exact), and we were both still figuring we'd get to it someday.</div>
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Then I realized.</div>
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We don't want to get serious because we are <i>just. friends.</i></div>
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Operating under the assumption that we were just being casual kept us both safe from everyone else out there. When friends asked if I was seeing anybody special, I didn't have to make up some joke about being a cat lady in training. I could shrug, smile a little, and say, "Well, there is this <i>one</i> guy..." When dates with another guy started to turn sour, I could tell him sorry, but there's someone else.</div>
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But we were never going to be anything. We just wouldn't admit it.</div>
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Letting go of that expectation wasn't difficult for either of us, ultimately. And the first time I tried to talk with him after that, it felt exactly the same as it always had.</div>
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Someday, I'll find that guy who glues me to my phone. The one I talk to constantly without the cursed plague of small talk. The one I'll put down my phone for, because I'd much rather carve out time to go see him face to face than text another word. </div>
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Until then, I guess I'll keep practicing my cat lady jokes.</div>
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The Dilettante</div>
The Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16817428684421220278noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-24154164808807947312016-09-16T07:29:00.001-06:002017-04-11T09:54:25.832-06:00Meet The Dilettante...and lots of numbers.<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>dilettante (n.) /</i>dɪlɪˈtanteɪ,-ti/<i> 1. a person who cultivates an area of interest, such as the arts, without real commitment or knowledge.</i></span><br />
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If there were way to become happily married without ever having to go on a single cursed date, I would be <i>allllll</i> over that. (That being said, I'm probably not as opposed to the possibility of my own arranged marriage as I should be.)</div>
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<a href="https://media.giphy.com/media/CPQ37bIBBznY4/giphy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="reaction marriage derek odette swan princess" border="0" height="185" src="https://media.giphy.com/media/CPQ37bIBBznY4/giphy.gif" width="320" /></a>Theoretically, dating should be pretty easy. (If you hate numbers and fun hypothetical situations, skip the next two paragraphs.) Let's go with some really rough statistics. Say I have the entire male population of Utah in one space. Current estimate is 1,388,317 males in Utah. I'm almost 24 years old, so let's say I'm not picky and look at 21-29 year olds. That cuts the number to 190,780. It was harder to single v. married statistic in Utah for this age range--I ended up with a 50% estimate. So there are now 95,390 single, age-appropriate men in front of me.</div>
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Here's where the stats get even sketchier. The 2007 statistic says 60.1% of the total population is LDS*, and 41.6% are active members. 23,849 men. But I think people should be pickier than that. So let me put more filters on. Let's pretend that the 30%** of undergraduates who escaped without debt are a decent representation of students who are good with money. Subtract 15% who hate cats. Lastly, I'm going to subtract 35%, because as "spiritually compatible" as we would hope any two active members of the church are, anyone who's ever actually <i>been</i> to a ward knows that spirituality is a very complicated concept. After reviewing the wide range in the many BYU YSA wards I've been to, I think a substantial cut is fair. </div>
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I have 1,824 soulmates in Utah.</div>
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In <i>one</i> state. And I've lived in <i>two</i> states and <i>two </i>countries. Why is this so hard?</div>
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It's my personal belief that dating is both easier and harder than it should be. All these sticky emotions getting in the way and clogging up everything keep us from being engaged. </div>
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Why doesn't God just send me my man in a box? I'd marry that boy so fast... In fact, why doesn't God just run my life for me? It would be really nice if He'd just force us all to make all the right choices and end up basking in Celestial glory, right? You know, "redeem all mankind, that one soul shall not be lost?" <br />
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Waaaaaaaaait.<br />
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As much as I'd love to just have it over with, those pesky emotions slowly make up who we are and give our life a purpose. They make us cry, push us to be brave, teach us to stand up when we've been knocked down, and often turn us to God. </div>
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We may as well enjoy the journey, shall we?</div>
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Cheers,</div>
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The Dilettante</div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">*(If anyone wants to be a little offended by my cutting out non-members, I would add that divorce rates are <i>significantly</i> lowered if your spouse is first, affiliated with a religion, and, second, affiliated with the same religion as you are. Since there's no good way to slap a number on spiritual compatibility, this will have to do. Secondly, More recent estimates of the LDS population are closer to 50%, so let's keep the 60% stat and assume that my spiritually-compatible, non-member men make up the difference.) </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">**I swear, I'm not pulling these numbers out of nowhere. If you're really curious, I can give you sources, but in-text citations make me want to cut my eyes out, so...</span></div>
The Dilettantehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16817428684421220278noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-57903285403536106822016-05-16T22:56:00.003-06:002016-11-07T16:34:24.163-07:00The Tinder Chronicles ContinueWhen I initially made my Tinder account, I planned to use it for about a week. Test the waters, see what it was all about, maybe make some new friends, hopefully avoid creeps. You know. In the end, though, I think I was done with it after about 3 or 4 days. This was partly because I got super overwhelmed having 10 conversations at the same time with guys who had almost the same names. (<i>So was this the Jake who served his mission in Colorado and liked rock climbing or was this the Jake who loves Indian food and said he'd been to China?)</i><br />
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However, it was also partly because my Tinder apparently had a mind of its own. Yes, <b>Tinder Dilemma #2 </b>was that a few days into using the app, Tinder decided it wouldn't let me message everyone anymore. It was weirdly selective about who it would let me talk to. In about half of the conversations I was having, I would attempt to send messages that would never actually <i>send. </i>The little "sending" progress circle under the message would just keep circling and circling and circling to no avail. I felt kind of bad, actually. A lot of my conversations ended up looking like this.<br />
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Him: So you lived in China?<br />
Me: Yes, and it was awesome! I loved it!<br />
Him: What was your favorite part?<br />
Me:<i> [SENDING.....SENDING....SENDING...] Well, I loved the people there. They were all so friendly and you could tell they always meant well.</i><br />
Me: [<i>SENDING....SENDING...SENDING...</i>]<i> Sorry, for some reason that didn't send. I said I loved the people most.</i><br />
Him: I guess you liked everything and can't choose just one thing?<br />
Me: [<i>SENDING...SENDING...SENDING...</i>] <i>Haha no, I actually did answer you</i><br />
<i>Me: [SENDING...SENDING...SENDING...] Dang it Tinder, send my messages</i><br />
<i>Me: [SENDING...SENDING...SENDING...] TINDER YOU SUCK! I actually liked him. He's diving certified. We could have gone diving together. </i><br />
Him: Hey, so...China?<br />
M<i>e: [SENDING...SENDING...SENDING...] I give up.</i><br />
Him: Well...maybe you'd rather talk in person instead?<br />
Him: Hello?<br />
<br />
So that kind of ended my Tinder adventure prematurely. I had a handful of poor guys attempting one-sided conversations who eventually thought I'd ghosted them and gave up. A few were pretty persistent though, bless them.<br />
However, I <i>was </i>on Tinder long enough during those few days to end up going on dates with 2 different guys. Neither ended up being a psycho. Actually, my first Tinder date was really fun and he came with me to a friend's birthday party a couple weeks later. My second date was nice but apparently couldn't tell I wasn't interested because he still messages me almost every day on Facebook. But eh. You win some, you lose some.<br />
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Although I managed to avoid anyone too crazy, I did have a few classic Tinder moments.<br />
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One of the very first messages I ever received was a guy who sent me the lyrics to the song "Hero" by Enrique Iglesias. No hi. No "what's up?" Just straight up "I can be your hero baby."<br />
Although I was new to Tinder I had luckily discovered the GIF keyboard and thus was able to respond with a likely representation of my face when I read his message.<br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x19-6srvfn8/VzqZ0YBrjAI/AAAAAAAABPs/R5QXemMbZs4jfNDzBDoPmuVlm-FwMS53wCLcB/s1600/tinder%2B4.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="540" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x19-6srvfn8/VzqZ0YBrjAI/AAAAAAAABPs/R5QXemMbZs4jfNDzBDoPmuVlm-FwMS53wCLcB/s640/tinder%2B4.png" width="640" /></a></div>
Yeahh. That conversation didn't last long.<br />
<br />
I got a classic Tinder pickup line that had clearly been used with at least 5 other girls, probably that same hour: "<i>Congratulations! You win the prettiest girl award for March on Tinder. I'm the official girl rater for the greater salt lake area. Where can we meet so I can give you your award?"</i><br />
I actually came up with a witty and sarcastic response but decided against sending it when I realized I didn't even want to talk to this bro.<br />
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I also encountered <b>Tinder Dilemma #3...</b>"Wait, I KNOW him! He served in my mission! And wait a second, we are <b>Facebook Friends!" </b>Come on, Tinder, really? </div>
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I really don't know what the correct protocol was. Swipe right so the two of you can laugh about the fact that you're both on Tinder? Swipe left and hopefully it's not awkward next time you see them in case they totally swiped right?</div>
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Even worse was <b>Tinder Dilemma #3.2...</b>"Wait a second, I'm Facebook friends with him...and he <b>superliked me!" </b>Way awkward, right? Unfortunately this wasn't a one-time thing, either. And every time I felt soo bad when I swiped left...but if I was interested, wouldn't I have written on their walls before now or something? Couldn't they message me and just ask me on a date? [I guess there is safety in Tindering, where the rejection is less....rejecting. You can always just tell yourself that the person you liked never gets on Tinder and thus never saw your profile in the Tinder lineup.]</div>
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I also discovered how to get someone to NOT respond to you. </div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4Ba4HHfBzfg/Vzqd809HI2I/AAAAAAAABQA/qblPhhDHy5QfFwyeGY0-tZ1-32Kjp3EYACLcB/s1600/Tinder%2B1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="586" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4Ba4HHfBzfg/Vzqd809HI2I/AAAAAAAABQA/qblPhhDHy5QfFwyeGY0-tZ1-32Kjp3EYACLcB/s640/Tinder%2B1.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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In hindsight, I'm actually kind of sad that I scared him off. He played the cello. I'd totes date a guy who plays the cello. But I really did wake up with a 20 pound cat on my face. It doesn't happen every day so I thought it was monumental enough to mention.</div>
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In the end, I started meeting people in real life and getting dates organically so I stopped Tindering for the time being (although I may be guilty of having swiped again a few weeks ago after all my friends left Provo and I was feeling super lonely. haha.). However, Tinder (that sneaky app!) apparently wasn't cool with that. It was determined to get me back on and swiping. So, one night it send me this notification...</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7ljYiuVPAVM/VzqfL-MbYzI/AAAAAAAABQI/fUBIetlzZJAl1xgLoLNz2aNoweM4ggcnwCLcB/s1600/tinder%2B2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7ljYiuVPAVM/VzqfL-MbYzI/AAAAAAAABQI/fUBIetlzZJAl1xgLoLNz2aNoweM4ggcnwCLcB/s640/tinder%2B2.png" width="360" /></a></div>
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<b>358??!! Ain't nobody got time fo dat!</b></div>
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Tips for the Gents</h3>
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For any gentleman who read our blog and are active Tinderers, here are my recommendations:</div>
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1. Stay away from the pickup lines. I was way more impressed with a guy who had something to say about my profile than a cheesy line.</div>
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2. No shirtless pics. Like...seriously. </div>
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3. That picture of you with the cute girl standing next to you? I don't care if it's your sister...why are you including it? It's confusing. I'm not really into guys with a potential girlfriend.</div>
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4. If your profile is witty I'm 3 times more likely to swipe right. Take this one, for example. Loved it.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PLun0UOBlEE/Vzqj-tyRc-I/AAAAAAAABQY/uhwsSI1GiE81mFPeM_O13iYuVKsWdExQgCLcB/s1600/tinder%2B5.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PLun0UOBlEE/Vzqj-tyRc-I/AAAAAAAABQY/uhwsSI1GiE81mFPeM_O13iYuVKsWdExQgCLcB/s640/tinder%2B5.png" width="440" /></a></div>
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Also, although the majority of guys just said something like, "Hey, what's up?" to start talking to me, here are a few conversation starters that stood out and actually made me want to talk back.</div>
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1. "Hey Charmer, I can only tell so much from your profile, but you're super cute and you look really fun! What are you up to?" </div>
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2. "Top 3 international travel destinations you plan on visiting. Ready? Go." [I said I like traveling on my profile]</div>
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3. "Hi Charmer! I was hoping I'd get your attention. ;) How's your week going?"</div>
4. "Hey, I was actually really hoping you'd swipe right! I love that you're an RM and I think it's really cool that you were in China teaching English! Where did you serve your mission?"<br />
5. "<span style="background-color: white; color: #212121; font-family: inherit; font-weight: lighter; line-height: 72px; white-space: pre-wrap;">你好</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #545454; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; line-height: 18.2px;">!<span style="font-size: x-small;">" </span></span>[Chinese for "hello"]<br />
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In the end, I can't say I highly recommend Tinder but if you want to, you might as well give it a try. Trust your gut. If you get weird vibes swipe left. Meet people in public if you don't want them knowing where you live. And above all, don't take it too seriously. </div>
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Good luck with the swiping,</div>
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The Charmer</div>
The Charmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13860052236314030630noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-30896880974297437542016-05-03T17:37:00.002-06:002016-11-07T16:34:37.681-07:00The Tinder Chronicles<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Online dating was </span><i style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;">never </i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">a thing I was going to do. My reasoning for that decision looked like this.</span><br />
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<b>a) </b>Aren't dating sites notorious for 50-year-old creepers who disguise themselves as attractive 27-year-olds? No thanks. I'm really not into the creeper sort.</div>
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<b>b) </b>My parents always warned me not to talk to strangers. Online dating encourages not only talking to strangers but actually <i>meeting </i>them. </div>
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<b>c) </b>Ain't no way I'm marrying a man and having to tell people for the rest of my life, "We met on Match.com...."</div>
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Despite the fact that my best friend actually found her own non-creeper through an LDS dating site and married him, I was still skeptical. Besides, I've always been able to generate enough dates for myself without a dating website. Nope. The Charmer was definitely not EVER going to try online dating.</div>
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But then there was this app called Tinder.</div>
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Just for the record, I'm pretty sure I swore off Tinder along with the rest of the online dating sites. I mean, <i>seriously? </i>To me, Tinder seemed to scream, <i>Let's judge people based on their eye color and shirtless pics. </i>Surely Tinder was only for super shallow people who didn't go on dates because they spent all their time lifting weights at VASA. </div>
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Well, about two months ago I returned from living in China for a year and a half. And I made a Tinder account.</div>
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<i>Sigh. </i></div>
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I don't <i>really </i>know why I made one. I guess it just intrigued me. My favorite mission companion and her sister both had Tinders. My ex-boyfriend/now-just-a-good-friend was a Tinderer. People were apparently getting married using the thing. So, a couple days before coming back to Provo for some job training, I gave into peer pressure and chose 6 pictures of me that looked good <i>(but not too good. Still trying to avoid creepers here.)</i></div>
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After writing a mostly cliche bio about "enjoying traveling and eating", I only had to swipe through three or four people before realizing that Portland was definitely <i>not </i>the place for a good Mormon girl to be using Tinder. I turned off the "discovery" option and decided to wait until my feet had hit the holy soil of Utah before turning it back on.</div>
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Fast forward a couple days. I was riding the Frontrunner down to Provo where I would meet up with my mission companion when I suddenly remembered that my pocket held the key to meeting my <i>eternal</i> companion. I looked around and sheepishly pulled out my phone, then clicked on the Tinder flame. I turned on Discovery. I looked through a few profiles and swiped left on all of them because I was too nervous to actually swipe right. </div>
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I put my phone away, silently mocking myself at the silliness of the whole thing. The Charmer on Tinder. Who would have guessed?</div>
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About 10 minutes later, my phone buzzed. I pulled it out and my eyes grew wide in horror as Tinder informed me that "someone had superliked me!" <i>A superlike? What the heck is that? </i>I gingerly opened the app and was presented with a profile of someone that did <i>not </i>look like he would be my type, but <i>even worse....</i>he looked FAMILIAR. </div>
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I stared at his picture. I could have <i>sworn</i> he had been in one of my BYU wards. I looked at our mutual friends. Oh no, he had DEFINITELY been in that ward. </div>
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Thus, I was presented with<br />
<b>Tinder Dilemma #1:</b><b> </b>Should I swipe right because I know him? Maybe he only superliked me because he wanted to say <i>"hey, remember me?"</i> Would it be totally rude of me to swipe left if, in fact, he DID just want to catch up about our good old Glenhood ward? I mean, surely he wouldn't have just superliked me out of the blue, right? RIGHT? </div>
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Ten minutes in and oh, I hated superlikes already. (I have this awful guilty conscious that flares up when it's afraid I'm going to hurt someone's feelings.)</div>
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So, I did what any cautious novice Tinderer would do: I ignored the like. I didn't swipe right. I didn't swipe left. Instead, I took a screenshot and sent it to my best friend to ask her if this guy had, in fact, been in our ward.</div>
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She responded affirmatively.</div>
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And then she made a joke about me being on Tinder.</div>
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(She has a lot of nerve, since she DID find her man on a dating website after all)</div>
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In the end, readers, I swiped right out of politeness. I swiped right on the chance that SuperLiker was going to respond with, <i>Hey, long time no talk! How have you been? </i></div>
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He didn't. Turns out he had absolutely no recollection of ever being in a ward with me, even when I pointed it out. No, he had liked me on the basis of my good-not-too-good pictures and the fact that I like to travel and eat. And now I was stuck talking to a guy with a self-proclaimed "dad bod" who specialized in pickup lines and awkward GIFs.</div>
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Welcome to Tinder. </div>
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--The Charmer</div>
The Charmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13860052236314030630noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-70781302957459474012016-02-22T20:52:00.001-07:002016-11-07T16:35:22.595-07:00A Few Updates...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g6vfl7vxyzc/VsvWc25OMZI/AAAAAAAABOM/p6al98IIdbQ/s1600/Anti%2BAusten.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="335" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g6vfl7vxyzc/VsvWc25OMZI/AAAAAAAABOM/p6al98IIdbQ/s400/Anti%2BAusten.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
First off, are you working on your submissions to be the next Anti-Austen? I sure hope so! <br />
<br />
<b>Update #1: </b>I realized that I majorly goofed and put the wrong email address in the last post. If you tried to send a submission to me, resend it to my <b>correct </b>email address, xoxo.the.charmer [at] gmail.com. I just fixed it in the original post as well. You can also send them to byudates [at] gmail.com <br />
<b>Remember that the deadline is March 17!</b> If we don't feel like we've found "the ones" by that point, we may extend the contest. But for now...just send 'em in.<br />
<br />
<b>Update #2: </b>In sadder news, I leave China in 2 days! It's such a strange bittersweet feeling. On the one hand, I feel like the timing is right and that I'm supposed to head back to the States. On the other hand...I'm going to miss it here. I love all my students and the branch members and the everyday adventures. But I'm hoping for plenty more adventures when my feet hit US soil again.<br />
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<b>Update #3: </b>The teacher coming to replace me is actually a fellow Anti-Austen reader! You might remember that I advertised about the position on the blog. Well, one of you responded, applied, and <b>got hired! </b>I am actually on my way out the door right now to go to the airport and meet her. I'm quite glad to have another Austen-loving Mormon to replace me at the university. ;)<br />
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Well, that's all for now. Just wanted to let you know I love you all and we are looking forward to choosing the next Anti-Austens!The Charmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13860052236314030630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-50094790304247448302016-02-16T22:27:00.001-07:002016-11-07T16:35:45.182-07:00Are YOU the Next Anti-Austen?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Alright lovely readers, we have some exciting news for you.<br />
<br />
When someone asks you for your worst date story, do you always have to stop and think for a minute because you have so many?<br />
Do you feel like your life is so far removed from a Jane Austen novel that it's ridiculous?<br />
Have you read our blog and thought to yourself, "<i>Oh my stars, I have an experience EXACTLY like that"</i>?<br />
In short, <b>have you ever wanted to be an Anti-Austen?</b><br />
<br />
Well, you're in luck! As much as the Romantic, the Lady, the Bluestocking, and I have loved caring for this blog, we realize that he time has come to pass the torch. After all, this blog began as an outlet to talk about our dating lives at BYU. Seeing as none of us are actually at BYU nor do much dating (besides the happily newlywed Lady), we decided it was time to invite a new group of Austens aboard.<br />
<br />
We have put our hearts and souls into this blog and we are looking for new writers who will do the same! Although the four of us may still occasionally pop in to share a post or offer advice, YOU will become the new face and heart of the Anti-Austen.<br />
<br />
Are you already concocting up posts in your head? Thinking of a pseudonym? Perfect. Then we want YOU to apply to be an Anti-Austen!<br />
<br />
Here's what you need to do to be considered. Fill out the following questionnaire and email it to xoxo.the.charmer [at]gmail.com or byudates [at] gmail.com. (<i>My Charmer account forwards everything to my own email account, so if you send it there I will be sure to see it and send it out to the other Austens ASAP.) </i><br />
The deadline to submit an application is <b>March 17, 2016.</b><br />
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<i>1. Which one of Austen's characters do you relate with the least? Why?</i></div>
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<i>2. Which of the gentlemen in Austen's novels would you prefer as your suitor? Why?</i></div>
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<i>3. Why do you want to write for the Anti-Austen?</i></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><i>4. Are you currently attending BYU? What are you studying? When do you anticipate graduating?</i></span></div>
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<i>5. Please choose two of the following prompts and respond using 200-500 words.</i></div>
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<i>A. Pretend you are a character in one of Jane Austen's novels. Your introductory scene o</i><i>ccurs at a ball. Introduce yourself from the viewpoints of the other characters present. </i></div>
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<i>B. Describe your last awkward encounter with an ex.</i></div>
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<i>C. Tell us about your first date at BYU from your date's perspective.</i></div>
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<i>D. Finish this analogy: "Dating at BYU is a lot like _______....."</i></div>
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<i>E. Share your best flirting tip. </i></div>
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<i>6. What pseudonym would you like to write under?</i></div>
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We are so excited to see your submissions and choose our new Anti-Austens! Please let us know in the comments if you have any questions.</div>
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Also, we've recently had a handful of guest posters as a way to "throw a lure out" and see what kind of talent is floating about these bloggy waters. If you have recently had a guest post published on our blog, please note that in your application!<br />
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So, start thinking of pseudonyms....</div>
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The Charmer<br />
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The Charmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13860052236314030630noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-57678418025657658052016-02-15T02:40:00.000-07:002016-11-07T16:36:37.032-07:00Group Dates & Getting Set Up: A Guest Post <div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i>Happy Valentine's Day! I'm enjoying a tropical vacation AND the single life. I'm fairly certain I will have my own fair share of dating exploits soon, as I'll be back in P-town in a couple of weeks. For now, enjoy this guest post!</i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">All of you know a girl like me. I’m the one who doesn’t really date, but all my friends covet the brilliance of my dating advice. I orchestrate elaborate matchmaking schemes for others and then somehow manage to panic and intentionally friendzone myself with absolutely anyone I find attractive. It’s sad, really.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">One time, however, I outdid myself. Have you ever been on a date before when you aren’t sure if it’s a date? What about an outing that you <i>are</i> sure is a date, but you’re not sure who you’re on the date with? Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">There were four of us in our small squad. The Cowboy, Rafiki, Clara Oswald, and me. The Cowboy had been my friend the longest. Despite the fact that The Cowboy was younger than me—a usually fatal dealbreaker—I was completely twitter-pated. I have an incredible weakness for cowboys anyway, and he was a little bit of a bad boy to top it off. I was intrigued, and since Clara and I were always together, and he and Rafiki were always together, the four of us got to be very close. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Rafiki, named so because of his hilarious laugh, was the definition of girl crazy. He fell in and out of love on a daily basis, and couldn’t let a sentence go by without saying something smooth. And while I had known women he fancied more than me, between Clara and I, I always managed to get hit on more often. The Cowboy and I had discussed my total lack of feelings for Rafiki, and The Cowboy found it rather hilarious to watch us together.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Clara Oswald was beautiful and exotic, a Parisian whose sense of humor was just as dry as mine. I hoped beyond all hopes that she and Rafiki would hit it off, knowing that Rafiki would be less into me and picturing the potential for double dates. Sadly, she seemed indecisive.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">The day I decided to make my move was like every other day. Sitting together on the carpeted floor of the cultural center after playing glow in the dark tag, Rafiki set me up seamlessly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Looking back and forth between the two of us and grinning like a hyena, he said, “I sure like going </span><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">on dates with you two.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">Perfect. I had been waiting for a moment like this. Looking nonchalantly at The Cowboy, I asked him, “What’s your plan for <i>our</i> next date?” It was the perfect blend of I’m-playing-along-with-Rafiki-<wbr></wbr>if-you’re-not-into-it and I’m-totally-asking-you-out-if-<wbr></wbr>you-are.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Cowboy looked surprised, but pleased. It was the exact expression I had been daydreaming he would have. He smirked. “Well what would you want to do?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">And then everything fell apart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">“Yeah! The Cowboy can buy me lunch and Rafiki will buy you an island.” I tried not to gape in </span><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">horror at Clara. How on earth had she misunderstood me so badly? First off, as she so clearly did </span><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">not </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">comprehend, I wasn’t really joking. </span><i style="font-family: garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt;">Secondly</i><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">, she </span><i style="font-family: garamond, serif; font-size: 12pt;">so</i><span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> did not just make it seem like she preferred The </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">In shock, I sat in silence while Rafiki scooted over and threw his arm around me. “Speaking of lunch, let’s start that up now. I’m hungry.” I locked eyes with The Cowboy and managed a wry smile as we all stood. He shook his head slightly as he grinned back at me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">We were never really able to go on an official date. After that day, Rafiki made sure that every group outing we had was referred to as a group date, but could never decide if he was dating Clara or me. Soon, it became a joke that we could just pick who we were dating for that day. Even if I was “out” with Rafiki, however, The Cowboy and I were always the ones who ended up off alone, talking.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Cowboy found it funny, and though we continued to flirt, neither of us was ever that bold again. Shortly afterward, I moved, and The Cowboy and I grew apart. A month or so later, I got an <i>old fashioned, handwritten letter</i> (be still, my heart!) that talked about timing, and wishing things were different.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">In the couple years since, The Cowboy married his Cowgirl. I sent him a wedding present and still talk to him on occasion, proving, I guess, that our friendship was more important than our feelings for each other. Sometimes, though, when I see those silly little jokes and challenges that I loved so much, I wonder what would have been…</span></div>
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The Charmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13860052236314030630noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-53555720827826427492016-01-15T03:00:00.000-07:002016-11-07T17:17:29.208-07:00The Charmer and the Dating Game, Part 2<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin: 0in;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can we take a second to appreciate the fact that the blue guy on the left is CHRIS EVANS?</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;"><i style="font-size: 14.6667px;">In hindsight, I guess I should have KNOWN that my dating life at BYU was destined to be wild. After all, what else could be expected from the girl who won "The Dating Game" 2 days after arriving on campus? </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">If you haven't read <a href="http://byudates.blogspot.com/2016/01/the-charmer-and-dating-game-part-1.html">part 1</a> of this post, make sure you catch it. And, if you have read it, you'll recall that I managed to win the Dating Game my first week at BYU. In true Charmer style, classes hadn't even started yet and I already had a date. <i>Bam.</i></span></div>
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A week later, the big day arrived. Naturally, I was excited for my first BYU date, but I was also a little nervous. I'd never been on a blind date before (which is essentially what this was). And to make matters even more anxiety-producing, the Bachelor was cute! Cue the freshman girl jitters. I probably spent an eternity getting ready for that date. I still remember exactly what I wore: my favorite yellow shirt from Charlotte Russe and a star necklace. <i>Get it, girl. </i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I can't really remember the details of how I got picked up for the date. (</span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 14.6667px;">I'm losing my memory in my old age.)</span><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> I know there was a communal van taking the six of us--me and my date, the Bachelorette and her date, and two random people from BYUSA. Like I mentioned, the date was set up by some organization through BYUSA and so they also sent a couple representatives along to pay for everything and act as </span><span style="font-size: 14.6667px;">chaperones</span><span style="font-size: 11pt;">. I mean, it wasn't like this situation was awkward enough already, right?</span><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> I'm fairly certain my date picked me up at the entrance to David John Hall </span></span><i style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;">(can I get a *woot woot* for Helaman Halls) </i><span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 11pt;">but the four of us may just have met up outside the Cannon Center. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt;">Regardless of how we got there, we ended up at Costa Vida for dinner and bowling. After we got our burritos, the four of us were sitting together and trying to make small talk when the BYUSA reps came over. They explained that they wanted to film us on our date so they could show it the next time they held a Dating Game. They also told us they wanted to interview us each individually, so they asked us to come up with random facts about ourselves that we could share. Then they left us again so that we could continue to pretend that this was a normal date.</span></div>
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"Hmm, well, I'm really good at baseball?" my date said. "I don't know if that's exactly the kind of 'random' that they're looking for. What are you going to say, Charmer?"</div>
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I thought about it. "Well...I've always wanted to be a movie star. I still secretly hope it will happen. I guess that's pretty random."</div>
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"No, guys, I have the perfect thing!" The Bachelorette spoke up. "It is seriously the most random thing about me. I mean, it might be kind of weird to share...but I think that's what they want, right?"</div>
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Her date grinned at her. "Okay, what is it?"</div>
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Before I tell you what she said, know that nothing quite prepared me for her response. I figured she was going to say something like, <i>"I have a pet snake" </i>or <i>"I won a hotdog eating contest."</i> Those would have been fairly normal random answers, right?</div>
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Instead, she grinned at us before announcing,<span style="font-size: 11pt;">"I have a third nipple!" </span><br />
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My date coughed on his Sprite. I tried not to burst out in shocked laughter. Her date, to his credit, handled the surprise pretty well. His eyes widened only slightly before he composed himself and said, "Oh...umm...wow, yeah, that's pretty random."</div>
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"I know, right? Like I said, kind of weird," she said, laughing nonchalantly. As if it wasn't a big deal to share intimate details of your chest with three total strangers.<br />
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In the end, we never did get interviewed. (I think our BYUSA reps forgot that <i>we </i>were supposed to be the ones on a date. They were pretty into each other.) We ate, we bowled, and then we went to the Varsity Theater to watch the movie "Prince Caspian." After that, we got dropped off at our dorms and I wondered if I would ever see my date again (nope). Beyond that, most of the details from the date have faded from my memory. <span style="font-size: 14.6667px;">I couldn't tell you if I bowled well that night or not. </span><span style="font-size: 11pt;">I hardly remember anything about the Bachelor except that he was from Ohio and he liked sports. </span></div>
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But I don't think I will ever, ever forget that girl telling three strangers about her third nipple.</div>
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<i>Got a first date story that one-ups mine? Send it in! We'd love to feature it here on the blog! xoxo.the.charmer[at]gmail[dot]com</i></div>
The Charmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13860052236314030630noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-12815004116840069972016-01-12T21:57:00.001-07:002016-11-07T17:17:52.690-07:00The Charmer and the Dating Game, Part 1<i>Reading the submission from our last featured guest poster made me reminisce about MY first date at BYU! The story was too good not to share. Enjoy!</i><br />
<i>xoxo,</i><br />
<i>the charmer</i><br />
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I was thrilled to go to college. I practically counted down the days of my senior year, looking forward to everything about BYU. Freedom, all-you-can-eat Cannon Center food, dances, football games, and most importantly....<b>BOYS</b>.<br />
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To say I was excited to date at BYU would be a gross understatement. I'm pretty sure the prospect of dating countless handsome and spiritual young men was the primary motivator that drew me to BYU and not to some other university. I had visions of getting hit on in the line at the CougarEat and kissing a rugged man at the top of Y Mountain. I imagined late night "study sessions" in the library and falling in love to the sound of the Young Ambassadors. I think it's safe to say that the sparse options in my hometown had left me a little bit boy-crazy.<br />
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In fact, I was so excited to date and keep track of all my dates that I prepared an "ABC Dating Journal" to document my adventures. I made the goal to date a boy whose name started with each letter of the alphabet. I mean, where else would I run into Gideons and Uriahs and Helamans? Probably only at the Lord's University, right?<br />
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My first couple days at BYU were a flurry of boxes, anxiety, and teary-eyed parents hugging me before handing me off to my freshman orientation counselor. The orientation tour is one fuzzy memory of free Creamery ice cream, lots of glass buildings, two orientation counselors getting engaged, and my now-best-friend The Roommate popping excitedly into my face and introducing herself. But most importantly, I remember walking around campus wide-eyed at the endless array of attractive, clean-cut young men. <i>This place was heaven!</i> Thus, you can imagine my excitement when we found ourselves headed to the freshman orientation party at the end of the week. Our first party as college students! With so many attractive boys to talk to! <i>Omg. </i><br />
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The party was set up in the WSC and had everything a typical BYU party is known for: a capella performances, watery lemonade, hundreds of crunchy sugar cookies, and a dance party featuring the latest in hip (yet clean) music. Oh, and there was one other thing: <b>The Dating Game.</b><br />
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My small group of new-found friends and I wandered into the auditorium just in time to catch a group of boys competing onstage for the affection of a blonde bachelorette. She was sitting off to the side of the stage and was separated by a curtain so that none of the contestants could actually see her. The game was simple: each contestant filled out a brightly-colored questionnaire asking things like, <i>"Do you prefer to STUDY HARD or PARTY HARDER?" "Are you more likely to watch a CHICK FLICK or an ACTION FILM?" </i>The bachelorette would give her answer and then every contestant with the opposite answer had to leave the stage.<br />
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We watched for a few minutes before someone wearing a BYUSA t-shirt approached us. "The girls are next. You guys should do it!" she said cheerily, handing us each a copy of the questionnaire.<br />
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My friends shook their heads, laughing. "No way!"<br />
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"Guys, we should! Come on, why not?" I urged. "It's our first weekend as college students. We need to live a little!"<br />
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<i> </i>Apparently my pep talk was the encouragement they needed, as they laughingly agreed and we all filled out our questionnaires.<br />
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A few minutes later, we found ourselves standing on the stage surrounded by about 80 other giggly freshman girls. I huddled to the side with my three friends, soaking in the excitement and randomness of the whole situation. I was at BYU! I was playing the dating game! I was going to be 18 in 4 days! LIFE WAS AWESOME! We cheered every time the hidden Bachelor announced his answers and half the girls onstage had to leave. One of my new-found friends booed when she found that her answer to question 3 forced her to leave the now dwindling contestant pool.<br />
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Around question 5, I found myself standing onstage without any of my wingwomen. All three of them had been eliminated and were now sitting in the audience, wildly cheering me on. I grinned nervously at them as question 6 kicked off another 10 contestants and I moved closer to the front of the stage. I think it was at this point when I started wondering <i>What if I ACTUALLY win this thing? </i><br />
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By the time question 7 rolled around, I was committed. My competitive side kicked in. <b>I was going to win The Dating Game. </b>Those other girls had better watch out.<br />
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10 questions. 10 questions that I had answered correctly. All of my answers matched those of the mysterious Bachelor and I found myself standing at the front of the stage with 5 other girls who were equally lucky. The crowd went wild when the host announced us as the final 6 contestants. My own 4-person cheering squad was going nuts yelling "CHARMER! CHARMER! CHARMER!"<br />
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At this point, the competition got a little more intense. The Bachelor would ask a question and each of us had to respond. After listening to our responses, he would eliminate one contestant. My little freshman heart was pounding wildly every time I took the microphone. Luckily for me, he liked my rendition of "All I Ask of You" (when he asked us to sing him a love song) and apparently it was acceptable that my favorite flowers were daisies.<br />
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Finally, the competition was down to three of us. We were each given 10 seconds to make a pitch about WHY we should be the chosen one. For the life of me, I can't remember a word of what I said. All I remember is giving the microphone back to the host and having people shout "PICK HER! PICK HER! PICK HER!"<br />
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And, whether it was peer pressure or the fact that I have a beautiful sultry voice <i>(haha...not), </i>when the host asked the Bachelor to make a decision, he announced "I choose CONTESTANT 3!"<br />
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Oh wait, what?!?! That was <i>ME</i>!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BqZpbiZz0fI/TlQ2kUrPUkI/AAAAAAAAABU/5afmyAH9dUk/HollyMikeDance.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BqZpbiZz0fI/TlQ2kUrPUkI/AAAAAAAAABU/5afmyAH9dUk/HollyMikeDance.gif" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Winning was kind of like this. Except I didn't get a rose and I wasn't wearing booty shorts.</td></tr>
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The crowd went wild, friends and strangers alike. I followed the host over to the other side of the curtain, where the Bachelor and I awkwardly embraced. The host pulled us aside to get our phone numbers and let us know that BYUSA would be setting up a date for us the following Friday. It would be a double date with the blonde Bachelorette we'd seen earlier.<br />
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My friends excitedly swarmed me as I walked down the steps. There were cries of, <i>"I can't believe it!"</i> and <i>"Girl, he is CUTE!"</i> and <i>"Your first date at BYU!"</i> all shouted simultaneously into my still-astonished face.<br />
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"Well, I guess I'm going to get my first alphabet letter," I replied, grinning.<br />
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<i>Curious to find out what went down on the date? Check out <a href="http://byudates.blogspot.com/2016/01/the-charmer-and-dating-game-part-2.html">PART 2!</a></i><br />
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<br />The Charmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13860052236314030630noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-53439248007182480142016-01-10T19:11:00.002-07:002016-11-10T04:38:31.129-07:00My First Date at BYU: A Guest Post<div style="background-color: white;">
<i>Okay, I seriously think my favorite part of this blog is reading the stories that YOU send in! Here's another guest post (with fabulous pictures included) for your reading pleasure.</i></div>
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How did my first date at BYU date go?</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iYD3jG-TArw/TsIhy21pttI/AAAAAAAAAEc/dGMRZBpntcM/s1600/boring-date-200x150.jpg" style="clear: right; color: #1155cc; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="150" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iYD3jG-TArw/TsIhy21pttI/AAAAAAAAAEc/dGMRZBpntcM/s320/boring-date-200x150.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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On a scale of 1-10, it won an astonishing 4.</div>
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<b>Timeline</b></div>
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<span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1650576527" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">7:05</span></span>--Casanova shows up at the apartment and stands awkwardly by the door. For a second, I think he's forgotten my name.</div>
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<span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1650576528" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">7:05:01</span></span>--We're out the door.</div>
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<span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1650576529" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">7:07</span></span>--After a really stimulating observation about how "[my] apartment is pretty loud--Are you guys the party apartment?", Casanova proceeds to tell me he has no plan for the date. I was a little miffed by this. Not because I particularly expect the guy to do everything, but because he had called me a week before and told me he would surprise me. He hadn't told me where we were going, or if we were going with other people, or anything. When he first called, it sounded pretty impromptu, so I didn't worry. But then there was a week of in between time he totally could have come up with something. Instead he asked me if I was up for anything. I was, so I said yes.</div>
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<span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1650576530" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">7:08-7:30</span></span>--We walked to campus. The scenic route. I wasn't bothered by walking. The conversation was mostly Casanova-centric though. I chalked it up to nervous babbling, so I wasn't too upset he only asked a few token questions in between breaths.</div>
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7:30-8:00ish--BYU's Got Talent. This was a good move, howbeit unintentional. I watch American Idol, America's Got Talent, Britain's Got Talent, The X Factor...not that he knew that, but I was still excited. We showed up about halfway through the performance and took a seat in the back. I now understand why people say theater dates are so awkward for a first date. You basically have to semi-shout an attempt at intelligent conversation. However, it usually ends up being a running ommentary that <i>neither</i> person wants to continue, but because the conversation hasn't closed, you feel awkward just leaving it alone. For the first part, I tried talking, but he was slouched down in his seat so far that I had to lean all the way over him to get near his ear. I'm 98% pretty sure he fell asleep multiple times.</div>
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8:00ish-9:00ish--Proceed to basement of the Wilkinson Center. Casanova asks me what I want to do. Never having been down there before and also a little freaked to have been put on the spot, I told him I didn't care. I really didn't...much. I actually really just wanted to go home by that point. No luck. He chooses pool, telling me he's an okay player before</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kWaPYO5xtMw/TsIc5IzYjpI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IKc18F-oy6k/s1600/RF242754.jpg" style="clear: right; color: #1155cc; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="216" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kWaPYO5xtMw/TsIc5IzYjpI/AAAAAAAAAEE/IKc18F-oy6k/s320/RF242754.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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asking if I'm any good. (It kind of annoys me, because he asked questions on rare occasions, but they always seemed like something he remembered he needed to do, not like he actually cared at all what I was saying.) I got in a few lucky shots (because I'm horrible), so I thanked God for making me look like a decent player. He then went on to cream me. I am a very competitive person, and I didn't like this at all. I could have handled it if he played it off sheepishly or even teased me and challenged me to win, but he wasn't interactive at all. As I continued losing, he got more confident, shooting behind his back and whatnot (but with no acknowledgement of the fact he was showing off, like I was supposed to pretend this was how he played all the time). I got less confident, even missing the cue ball a few times, to which he just looked at me then acted like he hadn't seen anything. He talked, but it was all fluffy nothing. Okay, that's a lie. It was real stuff he was talking about, but I didn't really care anymore. It was like a broken record playing an album of songs like: I'm Awesome, My Classes Are The Worst Thing Ever, Where I'm Going On My Mission, and These Are The Things I Like. </div>
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9:00ish-10:00ish--Since I hadn't known what we were going to be doing on said date, I ate just enough to tide me over until I thought the date would be over, just in case he wanted to do a let's-eat-out date. By <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_1650576531" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">9:30</span></span>, though, I was pretty hungry, so when he said "Hey, you think it's too cold for ice cream?" I was like, "It's <i>never </i>too late for ice cream!!" For some reason, in my head I pictured us entering the Creamery, getting the ice cream, and continuing on our longest-possible-route back to my apartment. Not so. I got to sit in a booth for a half an hour and listen to Casanova talk about...you guessed it...himself. Again.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kxNG2sLJxFI/TsIdc5x8oYI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/L3pbm7YzXdY/s1600/talking-heads.jpg" style="clear: left; color: #1155cc; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img border="0" class="CToWUd" height="293" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kxNG2sLJxFI/TsIdc5x8oYI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/L3pbm7YzXdY/s320/talking-heads.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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10:00ish-10:30ish--Walking back. I figured out that if I just said "Yeah" "Sure" and "I bet" every once and a while, I could ignore what he was saying and concentrate on all the homework I needed to do once I got home. When we finally got there, I told him thanks and opened the door. My roommates were asleep, so the whole apartment was dark. Without turning on the light, I give him a polite "Thank you" and step inside. Instead of leaving, he takes a couple steps inside himself and attempts to continue conversation. I didn't respond, partly because I was hoping he would leave and partly because I was shocked he would think I would be okay with it. Finally, <i>blessedly,</i> he left.</div>
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Anyway, it's over with. I don't plan on avoiding Casanova or anything, but, because of a collaborative effort from both himself and me, he is soooo far in the friend zone he needs binoculars to see any kind of romantic interest. I think, in a way, this was a good thing. I was able to determine nothing was going to happen so early in the date, I wasn't nervous at all. Now, if/when I get asked out by someone who I want to impress, I don't have to deal with first-date-at-BYU jitters.</div>
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See that? That's me, being positive. I'm so proud of myself.......:/</div>
The Charmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13860052236314030630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-82494199716328535462016-01-05T03:39:00.003-07:002016-11-10T04:39:00.410-07:00Why I Don't Recommend Haunted Forests or Blind Dates: A Guest Post<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 15px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<i>Remember that one time <a href="http://byudates.blogspot.com/2015/12/the-charmers-dateless-life-opportunity.html">I asked for guest posts</a>? Well, the offer still stands, y'all! Anyway, this gem was submitted less than a day after I posted my request. I laughed, I cried, and then I utterly failed at sharing it with you guys. My apologies, and enjoy!</i></div>
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<i>xoxo, the charmer</i></div>
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<i>Background: I don't know the whole story here, but it sounds like this was a blind date set up by the writer's aunt. AKA almost the worst kind of blind date, second only to ones set up by grandmothers.</i></div>
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The struggle began before the date even started. His awkward texts did nothing to endear me to him, and I accidentally (sometimes “accidentally”) forgot to respond for long stretches of time between them. At one point I didn’t even bother to reply, unwilling to carry the conversation. Two days later, I was sitting in the car on the way to FHE when he texted. “Your aunt says you don’t think I have any guts.”</div>
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I’d never said that, and I told him as much. He proceeded to try and arrange a date for later in the week, and despite the fact that I kept attempting to get him to just call me, he managed to do the whole thing over text. At this point, yes, I didn’t think he had any guts.</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; text-align: center;">He showed up that Friday night at 7, and almost right after we left, announced that we were going to a haunted forest. Not a great idea.</span></div>
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First of all, I was wearing open-toed shoes (which turned out to not be the biggest problem that night). Second of all, I don’t like haunted things. If I was to do something haunted, I’d want it to be with someone I wanted to be close to. Not someone that I barely even wanted to go on a date with. And then there was the fact that it was twenty minutes away, a drive that feels like eternity when things aren’t clicking.</div>
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And they didn’t click. In fact, by the time we’d gotten to the freeway, we’d apparently exhausted all conversation topics, and I’d fallen silent, okay with not saying anything in particular. He apparently wasn’t, as he tapped his hands against the steering wheel and said, “I just don’t have anything else to say.”</div>
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There’s a part of me that wishes I’d suggested we just go home at that point. That I’d said, “Look, it doesn’t seem like we’re going to work out. Why don’t we head back, get some froyo, and call it good?” It would’ve saved a lot of hassle.</div>
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We pressed on, the conversation stunted and uncomfortable. I don’t remember if the radio was on. I hope for my sake that it was.</div>
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Upon arrival, and prior to getting tickets, he jokingly asked who was paying. It wouldn’t be the first time he joked about that before the tickets were actually purchased. At twenty dollars a person. And then he wanted to also get a fast pass, when the line was maybe ten groups long and clearly moving steadily.</div>
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He left me standing outside the entrance while he used the bathroom, and I took the opportunity to send a text to a friend, wanting someone to commiserate with me. I’d continue to text throughout the night (at moments when it wouldn’t be inappropriate to do so).</div>
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The line was blissfully short, but as we approached the be-vampired ticket taker, the conversation got awkward again. I just tried to ignore the uncomfortableness and walked into the corn, attempting to forget the exchange. To my relief, it was simply a path through the corn, not a maze we’d have to puzzle our way through. I steeled my emotions, looking beyond the horror at the potential normalcy.</div>
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Each actor approached me first, thinking to frighten what might’ve looked like a weak and potentially terrified female. I obviously disappointed them, as not a single scream was emitted that night. By the time they realized I was a lost cause, it was too late to scare my date. And so we pressed on, impervious to the terrors that would confront us—except, of course, for the awkwardness that loomed between us.</div>
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Towards the end of the trail, my date began questioning the shadowy figures, trying to find a friend he knew was working, adding to the lack of enthusiasm I had for the whole endeavor. Not to mention that at this point, I’d heard close to five chainsaws approach me, none of which were actually worrisome. It was near the exit that the friend was located, but as we stepped out from the “creepy carnival” portion, we realized that it’d only been twenty minutes.</div>
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I still don’t quite remember what our plans were after that point. Maybe we were going to go get something to eat, or just take me back home. Regardless, those would all dissipate as he tried to open my door for me. He stuck the key in the lock, and unable to turn it, he pulled it out to find that it’d bent. It broke in his hands as he attempted to straighten it. The panic was almost immediate, and understandably so.</div>
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As I gave him a chance to solve the problem, I quickly realized he wasn’t getting anywhere, just worrying that he’d ruined everything, not really thinking through possible ways to fix things. “Do you want me to call my uncle?” I suggested, hoping that that would at least give my date somewhere to start coming up with a solution. I did so, and we waited for him to arrive. I leaned against the car, my arms and legs crossed—not due to the weather, but rather to my awkwardness. I stayed engaged with the conversation, wanting him to understand that this kind of thing was an accident, and I understood that.</div>
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We climbed in the back seat when my uncle showed up, somehow deciding to go somewhere to get a key copied. The drive was only slightly less uncomfortable as I chatted with my uncle. But, as we drove, my date’s discomfort was noticeable. “I just wish—” he began before shaking his head.</div>
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“What?” I asked.</div>
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“I just wish this hadn’t happened. Now you won’t want to go out with me again.”</div>
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Well. Yes.</div>
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“This could happen to anyone,” I hedged, not wanting to say it was him. But it was also definitely him. “It’s not like you were being a jerk.” But we don’t work together. So please don’t ask me out again.</div>
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The key eventually copied, we soon discovered that it wouldn’t fit in the lock for whatever reason. And so we headed to his family’s house to get a different car for him to take me home. Passing an Olive Garden, he remarked that we should go get him something to eat. “I’ll just get a glass of water,” I said.</div>
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“Why?”</div>
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“Well, for one, I’m not feeling great,” (yay for motion sickness) “and for another, I already ate.”</div>
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He insisted that after 7 was a perfectly normal time to eat dinner. “Yeah,” I said, “but you didn’t mention anything about getting something to eat. If I’m asked on a date, and they don’t say anything about food, I’m going to eat something before I go.”</div>
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It’s a clear indicator of how well the date isn’t going when you have better conversation with his stepdad than you do with your date. As if I needed more of a sign, it got even worse when I mentioned I didn’t know how to drive stick to my date. “Here, I’ll teach you,” he insisted. “I’m not going to shift until you do it.”</div>
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“What!? No, I’m not doing that!”</div>
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“C’mon, it’ll be fine!”</div>
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“No!”</div>
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We headed down the freeway, and he seemed more talkative than he had been before as he began complain about “judgmental Utah girls.” “That’s what I like about you: you aren’t judgy.” Clearly I’d passed the “can be calm in difficult circumstances test” and now he believed we were on track for date #2. “Actually,” I said, “three of my roommates are from Utah, and they’re not like what you think they are.”</div>
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Somehow, by the end of the date, he’d gone from having nothing to say to me to wanting to go out me on another date. On the other hand, I’d gone from not wanting to go out with him to definitely not wanting to go out with him. </div>
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<i>Loved it! Thanks for sharing with us. Were you reading this and thinking, "Oh my gosh, I have a story JUST LIKE THIS"? We want to hear it! <a href="http://byudates.blogspot.com/2015/12/the-charmers-dateless-life-opportunity.html">Check out my original post </a>and send them in!</i></div>
The Charmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13860052236314030630noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-67657577990518582692015-12-15T06:24:00.001-07:002016-11-10T09:01:12.047-07:00The Charmer's Dateless Life + An Opportunity for YOU to be a Guest Poster!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
So here's an interesting tidbit about the Charmer: she hasn't gone on a real date in almost a year.<br />
<br />
<i>Say what?</i> I know, it's crazy, right? What happened to the flirtatious, part-time-dater of yesteryear?<br />
Well, she went to China.<br />
And despite the fact that our branch <i>has </i>managed to produce 3 marriages in the last year from couples who met here, I guess not everyone finds love in China.<br />
<br />
Third person aside, my time in China is drawing to a close and the boys of Facebook are beginning to prowl. It seems like every couple of days I get a message from a guy I know back in the States who is just "checking up" on me to see how things are going and to see if I've figured out my plans for when I come back yet. In fact, Facebook itself has been confused about my obvious lack of dating life and has recently been suggesting websites where I can get counseling for same-gender attraction. <i>Thanks, Facebook. </i>Can't a girl be 25 and single in peace?<br />
<br />
The answer is no. Not even my students will leave me alone. Recently it has come to my attention that my students have been scheming on how they can hook me up with Kevin, one of the other foreign teachers here. Last week, one of my students came up to me after class and said that he had two ice skating tickets he wanted to give me as a Christmas present. He handed them to me and then added, "One is for you and one is for you to ask a friend. Who will you ask?" Without giving me more than a couple of seconds to think, he quickly interjected, "I think you should ask Kevin."<br />
<br />
<i>Ha.</i> Good one. Unfortunately, given the three 10-second conversations that I have had with Kevin, I don't think we're particularly compatible.<br />
<i>It's like being an EFY counselor all over again.</i><br />
<br />
Anyway, I can only assume that once my feet hit American soil I will be thrust back into the world of dating. For now, however, I am enjoying my reprieve from it all.<br />
But just because my dating life lacks savor, it doesn't mean that YOURS do! I know that many of you are off dating up a storm and you probably have some exciting tales to tell.<br />
<br />
<b>So, we want to hear from you!</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
This is an opportunity for you to guest post here on the Anti-Austen! The new year is coming up and I'm sure some of you are considering your dating lives and what you might do to improve them. Hopefully your fellow readers have some ideas for you!<br />
A few weeks ago, I talked about DATING IDEAS. I want to hear from YOU about the do's and don'ts when it comes to thinking up a date. Posts can be about<br />
<ul>
<li> the most creative or clever date you've been on</li>
<li>a date that seemed to have great potential but due to unforeseen circumstances, the original plans fell through in a disastrous way (and if applicable, what you did to salvage the date!)</li>
<li>the strangest date you've ever been on (aka activities you WOULDN'T recommend)</li>
</ul>
<div>
Write 'em up and send 'em over to xoxo.the.charmer [at] gmail [dot] com.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Can't wait to hear from you! Hopefully your posts can excite and inspire me to enter the dating world again.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
xoxo,</div>
<div>
the charmer</div>
The Charmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13860052236314030630noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-36893517551306754592015-11-18T23:36:00.001-07:002016-11-10T04:39:16.387-07:00No more excuses: Dating resources for you to steal!<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin-left: .375in; margin: 0in;">
How
is the BYU dating scene these days? </div>
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<br /></div>
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I
have a very single and very eligible brother at BYU who <span style="font-style: italic;">refuses to date. </span>In fact, I've been battling with him and his
dateless dating life for years now. I even wrote him a book to help him become
a dating pro, but still <span style="font-style: italic;">nothing. </span>If he
ever goes on a date it's because the girl asked <span style="font-style: italic;">him</span>
out<span style="font-style: italic;">.</span> [Go gutsy girls!]</div>
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<br /></div>
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When
I ask him why he's not dating, he tells me "I don't have any money"
or "I don't have any date ideas." Excuses, excuses! Still, I suppose
that his reasons <span style="font-style: italic;">do </span>have some merit. </div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin-left: .375in; margin: 0in;">
So,
for him and for you, I've decided to address what I think may be two of the
main culprits keeping you from going on dates.</div>
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<br /></div>
<ol style="direction: ltr; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .375in; margin-top: 0in; unicode-bidi: embed;" type="1">
<li style="margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0; vertical-align: middle;" value="1"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">"I don't have any
money."</span></li>
</ol>
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I
know that dating can become an expensive endeavor. Sure, you can take a date to
the duck pond, but you can only feed ducks so many times before you've got to
buy some more bread. The truth is that when it comes to dating, eventually
you're going to need to spend a little money. As a discount-lover myself, I
think it's perfectly acceptable to use a coupon or some other form of discount
on dates. After all, I think there's a difference between being
"cheap" and "resourceful." <br />
So, I suggested to my brother that he
check out Groupon, since they used to always be my go to resource when I was in
charge of planning dates. (Yes, believe it or not, I <span style="font-style: italic;">would </span>occasionally be the one to do the asking…)The fantastic
news is that Groupon actually just launched a new website for those of you who
are <span style="font-style: italic;">really </span>thrifty called<b> Groupon Coupons. <a href="https://www.groupon.com/coupons">Groupon Coupons</a> </b>is a huge collection of coupons, discount codes, and deals in one
place and you don't have to pay anything to use them like you do with
traditional Groupons. They've got deals on groceries, travel, and clothes...but more importantly, you can use them for your dating purposes! I looked around and found some great restaurant deals,
like free appetizers at Olive Garden. (Please, non-daters of Provo, tell me
you're okay with free?) Also, I found a ton of coupons for <a href="https://www.groupon.com/coupons/stores/charmingcharlie.com">Charming Charlie</a>, which is <span style="font-style: italic;">dangerous! </span>This just
happens to be one of my favorite stores, and not only because it has the word
"charming" in it. ;)</div>
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<br /></div>
<ol style="direction: ltr; font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: .375in; margin-top: 0in; unicode-bidi: embed;" type="1">
<li style="margin-bottom: 0; margin-top: 0; vertical-align: middle;" value="2"><span style="font-size: 11pt;">"I don't have any date
ideas."</span></li>
</ol>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin-left: .375in; margin: 0in;">
Actually,
when coming from my brother this is a lame excuse because <span style="font-weight: bold;">I wrote him a whole freakin' book that had an entire
chapter on date ideas!! </span>However, if you don't have your own personalized
dating book to consult, luckily for you the author of the "Date Ben" blog has recently put
together a list of <a href="http://dateben.blogspot.com/2015/09/cheap-fun-date-ideas-personally-tested.html">31 inexpensive and creative date ideas</a>. These date ideas were
all tested by her brother in a 31-day period and they proved to be successful.
Some of them, like going on an escape adventure at The Escape Key, sound absolutely
fabulous and I must confess that a part of me wishes I was in Provo to give
them a try. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin-left: .375in; margin: 0in;">
<b>Let
me know what you think of the ideas or if you find any sweet deals on the Groupon coupons website!</b> I have amassed quite a collection of
creative (and often quirky) date ideas and would be willing to share them if
you find yourself still at a loss.</div>
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<br /></div>
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And
remember ladies…if the boys aren't asking you, don't be afraid to step up and
ask <span style="font-style: italic;">them</span> for a change. Women like you
may be the only things keeping people like my brother socially afloat. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin-left: .375in; margin: 0in;">
xoxo,</div>
<br />
<div style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11.0pt; margin-left: .375in; margin: 0in;">
The
Charmer</div>
The Charmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13860052236314030630noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-81299879104436322832015-11-03T22:55:00.001-07:002016-11-10T04:39:22.342-07:00The Charmer's New Writing AdventureI'm curious: If you could assign each one of the Austens a name (just a regular, ordinary English name), what would it be?<br />
<br />
Actually, it's not just mere curiosity. I do have a purpose for my random inquiry.<br />
<br />
You may have heard of National Novel Writing Month, more commonly known as <a href="http://nanowrimo.org/">NaNoWriMo</a>. Basically, every November, a whole bunch of ambitious writers commit to write a novel of at least 50,000 words in a month. Sounds crazy, right? Crazy...but also fantastic! I think I first heard about NaNoWriMo 10 years ago and thought, <i>Wow, I should give that a try! </i>But at the time, I was an overscheduled high school student, busy with exams and piano lessons and running hurdles and whatever the heck I occupied my time with back then. Every year I thought about giving it a shot. Unfortunately, as time went on the Novembers only get busier. Soon those AP classes turned into college courses, and on top of that I had both a part-time job and a part-time dating life.<br />
<br />
Long story short...10 years of potential novels never happened.<br />
<br />
Until now.<br />
<br />
I decided to suck it up and signed up for NaNoWriMo a few weeks ago. Crazy? Maybe. Exciting? Surprisingly so. I decided to go for it, and the one novel idea <i style="font-size: small;">(hahaha...did you catch my pun) </i>that has attached itself to my brain is the story of the Anti-Austen blog. Mind you, what I'm working on is a fictional account, which means in the end the characters and their storylines may have little resemblance to real life. But...really,who knows. Right now, this novel is still lying around in fragmented chunks and ideas.<br />
<br />
Before this novel can take on a life of its own, however, my characters need names. Something besides "Charmer" and "Lady", which is really the only way I can think of them in my head.<br />
<br />
So, tell me...when you think of each of the Anti-Austens, what do you imagine their real names might be?<br />
<br />
-The Charmer<br />
<br />
PS- I'd also love to know which of the Austen's "storylines" have been your favorite. Was there a particular boy you adored? A boy you loved to hate? Maybe they'll make it into the final product. ;)The Charmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13860052236314030630noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-33207184751419401502015-10-18T20:01:00.000-06:002016-11-10T04:39:38.973-07:00A Change in Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://images.essentialkids.com.au/2015/01/01/6131403/Article%20Lead%20-%20wide6452916312fftlimage.related.articleLeadwide.729x410.12f30r.png1420239018452.jpg-620x349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://images.essentialkids.com.au/2015/01/01/6131403/Article%20Lead%20-%20wide6452916312fftlimage.related.articleLeadwide.729x410.12f30r.png1420239018452.jpg-620x349.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Whoever said there were no stupid questions was clearly not a 25-year-old unmarried Mormon woman.<br />
<br />
<b>"So, why aren't you married?"</b><br />
<b>"Why isn't an attractive, intelligent girl like you married yet?"</b><br />
<b>"You made it four years at BYU and you didn't get married? How did you manage that?"</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
No matter how it's phrased, I think it's a stupid question. It's also rather insensitive. If you ask one of us this question, you're bound to receive nothing but a reproachful look in response along with a fake laugh.. The truth is, most of us "attractive, intelligent" unmarried gals don't <i>have </i>an answer to the question. If we did, we'd be married. Duh.<br />
<br />
For me, though, the answer is that I just never really wanted to be married. That might come as a shock to anyone who has perused my Pinterest boards. But for all my talk of dating and my love of weddings, I seem to lack the desire to actually get married. I considered it a few times at BYU but my list of cons always seemed to outweigh my list of pros. (Yes, I literally wrote a list at the suggestion of one of my bishops. As I recall, the list had maybe 3 pros and 15+ cons.) Frankly, if I didn't have the eternal perspective and understanding that comes from the restored gospel, I'm not sure I would even pursue marriage.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://static.fjcdn.com/pictures/Good+excuse+for+havin+no+gf_e703f4_4971117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://static.fjcdn.com/pictures/Good+excuse+for+havin+no+gf_e703f4_4971117.jpg" height="320" width="264" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sounds about right.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
But I do have an eternal perspective. And I know that marriage is important. For the last few years I've been trying to come to terms with it and allow myself to be open to the possibility of getting married. Asking the Lord to change my heart towards marriage and men in general is one of those things I have to pray for frequently.<br />
<br />
Recently, however, I've noticed a change in my desires--and I believe it's a positive one. I think I've finally gotten to the point where I am ready to take that step. I think that my eternal soul is seeking something lasting. After all, thus far everything in my life has been temporary. Schooling, jobs, my mission...I've gone into all of these things with an end in sight. In fact, the only permanent things in my life--my family and the gospel--are things that have always been there. I haven't ever started something that I expected to last forever.<br />
I've had so many beginnings and endings in my life, and I think the eternal side of me is getting tired of that.<br />
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I love what President Uchtdorf said in<a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2014/04/grateful-in-any-circumstances?lang=eng"> April 2014 general conference</a>:<br />
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<i>In light of what we know about our eternal destiny, is it any wonder that whenever we face the bitter endings of life, they seem unacceptable to us? There seems to be something inside of us that resists endings.</i><i style="line-height: 30.6px;">Why is this? Because we are made of the stuff of eternity. We are eternal beings, children of the Almighty God, whose name is Endless and who promises eternal blessings without number. <b>Endings are not our destiny.</b></i></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; line-height: normal;">I am ready to begin something that will last, something that doesn't have an expiration date.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times new roman"; line-height: normal;">And so, with that in mind, I will be <b>ending </b><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">(wait, didn't I just say...oh never mind.)</span></i><b> </b>my job in China early next year and coming home with the intention to...well....try and get married? I guess? Yikes. It sounds weird to even type it. As much as I love it here and even though everyone (from students to supervisors to branch members) is trying to convince me to stay, I feel like this is the right step for me. It's a big step of trust for me. Even though I in no way have my life figured out when I get back in February, I'm trusting that things will line up for me.</span></div>
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Who knows? Maybe by the end of next year people won't have a reason to ask me, "So...why aren't you married?"</div>
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xoxo,<br />
the charmer</div>
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<b>ON A SIDENOTE....</b>me leaving my position at the university means that they are looking for someone to replace me. There have been BYU-affiliated teachers here for the last 6 years and they would love to continue that trend. If you or someone you know has a degree and some teaching experience and would be interested in a paid opportunity to teach English in China, let me know! You can email me at xoxo.the.charmer@gmail.com. You could apply to come as soon as February or in August of next year. <b>EDIT: </b>Married couples are welcome to apply, too! I'm actually the first teacher in the string of BYU teachers here to be single.<b> </b></div>
The Charmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13860052236314030630noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-65966307337389514202015-10-10T02:09:00.004-06:002016-11-10T04:40:23.858-07:00"Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure."<div style="color: #222222;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">I </span></b>meant to keep you updated. I meant to tell you about the three lost months I spent in a long-distance relationship with a guy I saw a grand total of twice during that time. I meant to tell you about the weird time I very briefly dated a steroid-ridden weightlifter who was so very full of himself there was no room for me. But all those "meant-tos" and "should-haves" cease to have a place in my life. And I am so grateful for that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Here I often claim I am attempting to dodge the Willoughbys of this world, but the truth of the matter is that I often can't spot those characteristics until I am knee-deep and must escape with some force. That's the thing about Willoughbys, I suppose. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But the good news is (and I am here to inform you of it) that there are good men in this world. There are Darcy, Knightley, and Wentworth types. They really do exist. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">My dear friends of the past four years, my time with you is now coming to an end. In true Austen-heroine fashion, I am ending the documentation of my dating life with a marriage. It still looks so strange on the page. I am getting married, I am getting married, I am getting married. How can this be real? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Let me tell you, it was not what I was expecting; he was not what I was expecting. I cannot succinctly describe the past several months in any entertaining way. I cannot express my gratitude and my hope for the future. I do not know if I ought to cry or jump about in girlish giggles, so I actually just do both. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">He is the best person for me. He is so much of what I need in my life, and I fell in love first with his kindness. His kindness keeps me from freaking out (too much), and it keeps me from wanting to run away. I thought I knew what I wanted, I thought I wanted fireworks and healthy debates and sarcastic humor, British accents, and tweed jackets or something. But those things aren't for me. Not anymore. All I needed was someone to be kind to me, to look at me in that way, to treat me like I am their entire world, to be treated as though I am both more than and enough and perfectly able to become better. Encouraged, cherished, supported, loved. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It is all so unlike a Jane Austen novel. It's better than a Jane Austen novel. Simply because it's real. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Con amor for the last time, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">The Coquette/The Lady </span></b></i> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">P.S. I cannot thank you all (and the other Anti-Austens) enough for the love and support over the years. Writing for this blog has been my joy and my honor. All the best to you, and all my love. </span></div>
The Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18264244003528518192noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-70133430581374978622015-08-29T00:48:00.000-06:002016-11-10T04:42:41.822-07:00Apparently Pickup Lines are a ThingWell, it's been a while, hasn't it? Apologies for less-than-frequent updates, but all of the Austens have pretty busy lives these days. Surprisingly "real life" tends to be busier than college life. <i>Who knew?! </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
After a brief hiatus in America, I've returned to China for another semester of teaching. Although I was only home for two months, it was possibly the <i>BEST </i>summer I've ever had! (Granted, I say that every summer, but they really do keep getting better!) Since getting off the plane a few days ago it seems all I've been doing is sleeping. I'm not sure if it's jetlag or if my body is just trying to catch up from the severe lack of sleep it experienced this summer. Between visiting my mission, being maid of honor at my best friend's wedding, living at Lake Powell for a week and of course throwing in a few weeks of EFY, I didn't have much time for sleeping. Unfortunately for you readers, I also didn't have much time for any romances to blossom, either. I only went on one sort-of-possibly-a-date this summer, although true to Charmer-fashion I did have a handful of men hitting on me at any given moment (mostly EFY counselors).<br />
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Although none of these gallant men actually did anything that would lead to a real relationship, like asking me on a date, this summer was the first time I had <b>pickup lines</b> used on me for real.<br />
<i>[I think that EFY counselors are the only people on the planet who actually think that pickup lines are acceptable. I guess that's what happens when you hang our with 15-year-olds all summer and have to think up pickup lines in order to go to dinner.]</i><br />
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So, for your reading pleasure, here are some of the lines that were used on me this summer. [Yes, honestly. If you think YOU'RE surprised that these pickup lines actually happened, you should have seen MY face.]<br />
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1. If I had to compare you to a hymn, I would choose hymn #98 because I need thee every hour.<br />
2. Hey, what's your last name? Hmm, that's alright I guess. Do you like it? Well...how would you like to change it to Smith? <i>[Smith was HIS last name]</i><br />
3. Hey, you should give me a call...because I'm a CATCH! (at this point, he tossed me a tennis ball with his phone number on it)<br />
4. Hey....umm....you know, I had something I was about to say to you...but you're so beautiful you made me forget my pickup line.<br />
5. When my girls and I were eating dinner one night, a counselor sidled up to our dinner table, threw his arm around me, and asked them, "Hey, do you think the two of us look good together?"<br />
6. (same boy, same interrupted dinner) You know, when I'm not at EFY, I'm a fisherman. And this one time I caught a fish that was THIS BIG [cue him putting his arm around me] that I couldn't resist telling you about it.<br />
7. (same dinner conversation) He said to me, "You know, I've been fasting today, but it looks like I can finally break my fast." I said something like, "Oh...that's nice." And he responded, "Don't you want to know why?" Without waiting for a response, he replied, "Because I saw you walk in and realized that I just saw the answer to my prayers."<br />
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Well, I'll be honest--none of these lines won me over. But for you courageous-types out there, give 'em a whirl and see if one of them can land you a date for next weekend. Or, on second thought, maybe just stick with the old-fashioned "Hey, you seem really cool and I'd love to take you on a date. Can I get your number?" I think it has a better success rate. ;)<br />
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加油,<br />
the charmer<br />
<br />The Charmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13860052236314030630noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-71152033616353833352015-07-12T21:38:00.000-06:002016-11-10T04:40:30.815-07:00Wants vs. Needs and Steak vs. Hamburger<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">F</span></b>or some, relationships come easily. For some, love finds them. For some, the first love is the right love. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For me, I struggle to settle down. For me, I struggle to find what I think love ought to be. For me, the first (and not even the second) love was not the right love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I have a wise aunt who was not married until her early 30s, which in the 1970s I assume was much more of an anomaly than it is now. At a family reunion recently, we had a long conversation about my dating life, which I sorely needed. I told her all my woes and worries, and she was more than understanding. My Aunt Gardiner brushed aside all my fears about getting older and not getting any closer to finding a husband claiming that even though she wasn't married until she was "older" herself, she is "just as married as anybody else is." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Then we had a long talk about quality men. My Aunt Gardiner told me that my Uncle Gardiner was not her ideal man. This shocked me as I had only seen extreme affection between my aunt and uncle, which has sometimes proven to be be slightly uncomfortable to witness as they are in their 60s. My Aunt Gardiner noted my somewhat panicked expression and clarified that although my Uncle Gardiner was not what she thought her ideal was, he turned out to be what she needed. Which in the long run is infinitely better. She made the analogy of loving steak, that steak was her meat of choice, but she was perfectly happy with hamburger. I am not terribly fond of meat analogies, but it was her analogy not mine, so I'll not tamper with it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I do have an ideal. Some dark-haired, deep-voiced semi-giant of a man who can sweep me off my feet both physically and with his clever jokes and intimidating intelligence. But ideals are silly aren't they? When has anyone ever ended up with an ideal? When have plans ever fallen perfectly into place? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But then again, has there ever been a time when what we have wanted has not been trumped by what we have needed? And shouldn't our needs be more important than our wants? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Con Amor, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i><b>The Lady</b></i></span></div>
The Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18264244003528518192noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-74067214593880224812015-06-24T15:44:00.002-06:002016-11-10T04:42:53.125-07:00The Charmer's Thoughts on her Long-Distance RelationshipWell, time has flown by again, as it tends to do. This last week brought a few big changes into the life of Charmer. Ammon (or "Elder Ammon" as I guess he's now known) has headed off to a more worthwhile endeavor than weekly Skype sessions with me. That went fast, RIGHT? He entered the MTC on June 17th about the same time I hopped on a plane to come back to the good ol' USA...so no, to answer your question, we didn't see each other. Although I would have loved to see him again, I know this is a better option. [He wasn't so sure. But I saw Mr. Director the day I went into the MTC and so I could <i>PROMISE</i> Ammon that it is better this way.]<br />
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I guess I can now officially say I've had a successful long-term relationship...and for <b>eight months</b>, no less! Not too shabby for a girl who NEVER thought she could handle a long-term relationship.<br />
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In fact, I've learned a few lessons from this relationship that I think apply to <i>all </i>relationships. I realized that through this across-the-world romance, I was able to strengthen a few characteristics that will help me in future relationships as well.<br />
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<b>1. COMMITMENT. </b><br />
We often talk about being committed to one another when dating, but with this relationship I learned how important it is to be committed to the<i> relationship</i> as well. You really have to be committed to making a long-distance relationship work. The time difference usually means one of you is Skyping past your bedtime. It's not as easy or convenient to send a text or call each other as it is in non-distance relationships. Since I've demonstrated varying levels of commitment in my life it was good for me to have this opportunity to CHOOSE to be committed in order to make this relationship work.<br />
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<b>2. TRUST.</b><br />
Obviously, trust is of the utmost importance in any relationship. In a long-distance relationship you really develop the characteristic of both trust and trustworthiness. My parents trust that I'm making good decisions out here on my own in China; likewise, Ammon also trusted that I wasn't getting myself into too much trouble. I got to demonstrate my trust in him, too; after all, he had a lot more viable dating options than I did. Based on one of my past relationships, I could have made the excuse that <i>"trust is something I struggle with in relationships."</i> But just like with commitment, I made the choice to trust...and it really helped me to have a positive experience with Ammon.<br />
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<b>3. OPENNESS</b><br />
I was surprised by how quickly I achieved a high level of openness in my relationship with Ammon. I had dated him for a shorter amount of time than other guys but yet I felt like we both knew each other better. One benefit of long-distance relationships is that you have a lot of time to just....<i>talk. </i>There's no cuddling or movie watching. Obviously I enjoy those things, but it was refreshing to experience a relationship without them for once. I discovered that surprisingly, it <i>is </i>possible. I think we know each other pretty well, even though we've only spent a total of 2 weeks together in person.<br />
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Commitment, trust, and openness were all aspects of relationships that I have struggled with in the past. <i>Voila! </i>Can't say I'm perfect, but I am glad for the slight to major improvements I've seen in all three areas. Apparently a long-distance relationship was exactly what I needed these last eight months.<br />
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And now....I guess we'll see what happens. I suppose it's time to throw myself back into the dating pool. Let's try to avoid the piranhas. <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">[I realized a moment ago that I had absolutely NO idea how to spell "piranhas"....I don't think it's a word I've ever had a reason to write or type before. Thank goodness for auto-correct]</span></i><br />
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xoxo,<br />
the charmerThe Charmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13860052236314030630noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-26571233033092227002015-06-20T00:31:00.002-06:002016-11-10T04:40:38.639-07:00Mama's Boys and Tygers<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>I</b></span> believe I went to the singles' branch in my area a grand total of thrice. The first time because my father forced me to go by actually driving me the hour to sacrament meeting. (I was being perfectly active in my home ward, but I think he was desperate for me to find some friends). </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">In my limited experience, singles' branches and singles' wards are vastly different. Although singles' wards have their fair share of interesting single men, I believe singles' branches to be the breeding ground of said interesting creatures. Perhaps it is just the branch in my area, but it seemed to be an assembly of the offbeat. The men all seemed to be not yet socially mature, they laughed nervously around me when they introduced themselves, their general conversations were solely based on mission experiences or on the new </span><i style="color: #222222;">Avengers</i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"> film, and they all seemed to have </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">oddly close relationships with their mothers. I wouldn't be surprised if each and everyone of them has one of those Stripling Warriors Mama's Boys t-shirts. <i>Blech. </i>Well there weren't just one or two of these sort as there are in your average singles' ward, but I would say 85% of the branch was like that. Which means that left about only three somewhat normal schmoes. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">One of these seemingly normal guys approached me on my first Sunday to introduce himself. He was good looking, fit, had a full head of hair, was obviously older than 19. Not bad. Not bad at all. But then he introduced himself as "Tyger." Tyger with a "y" like the William Blake poem. Because he is an English teacher. You know because English teachers do that sort of thing. I am only slightly ashamed to admit that I audibly guffawed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I didn't last long at the singles' branch. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Con Amor, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>The Lady </i></b></span></div>
The Ladyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18264244003528518192noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-15431021854901288122015-05-12T01:32:00.005-06:002016-11-10T04:45:02.888-07:00Much, Much BetterI can never believe how quickly time passes. I always say that, so it seems like I would have gotten used to it by now...but I never do. In only five weeks, I'll be leaving China and I'll be back in the US <i>(that is if the bank will stop blocking my credit cards every time I try to order my stinkin plane ticket from a Chinese website) </i>! Where did the entire school year go? I actually decided to extend my contract, so I will be coming back for the fall semester after a couple months of hopping around the US for weddings, EFY, etc.<br />
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My last post (which was a whole month ago, sorry 'bout that) may have left you worrying about my emotional state. I'm guessing that none of you worried for too long, since there weren't any anxious comments asking for updates, but if you did you needn't have. As always, <b>I'm fine</b>! I guess that post was just more of a vent session. I needed to tell <i>someone </i>how I was feeling, and as I explained, most of my friends are too busy being engaged or married to listen to my complain.<br />
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First off, <b>Ammon has his mission call!</b> In a month he'll be headed to the MTC and then onto Boston, MA. I think his call is absolutely perfect for him; I can totally picture him in Boston. I won't see him before he leaves but I think it's probably for the best. He doesn't need the distraction of being around me.<br />
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I've also decided that I'm not going to "wait" for him. I've always been opposed to waiting for missionaries, but if you hadn't noticed from my Ammon-themed posts I've been pretty smitten with him. In fact, things were going so well that I had decided <i><b>yes</b>, </i>I was going to wait for him and continue to call him my boyfriend after he left.<br />
And that was right about the time when I started feeling really conflicted about <i>everything.</i> It was shortly after that decision that I wrote my previous post where I admitted to being an emotional wreck.<br />
Obviously something was wrong, right?<br />
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As the saying goes, I guess I was "blinded by love" and it took some counsel from someone older and wiser to help me realize it. One of my high school seminary teachers sensed something was up and wrote me a long email with encouragement about the situation. She included part of a letter that she had written to her missionary daughter after her daughter was "Dear Jane"d. With her permission, I've decided to share some of it with you.<br />
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<i id="yui_3_16_0_1_1431409216292_11653"><span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1431409216292_11652" style="font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: medium;">Do you believe The Lord loves you? Do you believe that if you put forth your whole <span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1431409216292_11655">heart</span>, might mind and strength 100% that The Lord will bless you so immeasurably with THE PERFECT companion upon your return, that you will weep with such great joy and so much humility for not trusting Him enough to begin with?!<br /> Dad, Michael, and I all thought we were going to marry one person .... and it didn't work out and we are all SO glad because we found someone who truly was right for us instead. I have heard countless stories of this and guess what? They ALL have happy endings .... Not the ending one expected in the middle, but a much happier one.<br /> You have great potential to be a FORCE for good in this life, and will be equally yoked to one who has EQUAL potential! And whom you will love more than you imagined you could. </span></i></div>
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<i id="yui_3_16_0_1_1431409216292_11662"><span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1431409216292_11661" style="font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: medium;">Let it go and be free to reach your full potential!!!!</span></i></div>
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<i id="yui_3_16_0_1_1431409216292_11287"><span id="yui_3_16_0_1_1431409216292_11286" style="font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: medium;">Forget yourself and get back to work =D</span></i></div>
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Finally, she concluded the letter by giving me the exact same advice I'd given to her daughter when she was considering waiting for a missionary: let Ammon go on his own unencumbered journey so that the Lord can work in both your life and his. If in the end, you're led back to Ammon, great. If not, this is a perfect opportunity for the Lord "to lead you to the perfect companion for you to reach your full potential in this life with." </div>
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Her letter was exactly what I needed and immediately afterwards I felt unburdened. I felt peaceful. Of course Ammon is amazing, but it was clear from the way I felt after receiving this advice that going into the next two years with an "on hold" or an "I'm taken" mentality is <i>not </i>what my Heavenly Father wants for me.</div>
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So, even though I still feel a little distant in my relationship with Ammon, I still feel lonely on occasion, and all of my friends (including my bestie) are still engaged or pregnant with their 2nd/3rd children, I feel a lot more peaceful about the future than I did a month ago. To be honest, I feel much, much better about <i>everything</i>. Trusting in the Lord has brought me this far <i>(literally as far away as China)</i> and I have absolute confidence that it will continue to bring me exactly where I need to be. Which hopefully includes a temple marriage in the semi-nearish future. </div>
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confidently and peacefully yours,</div>
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the charmer</div>
The Charmerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13860052236314030630noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8936537874847344814.post-47525090395569004472015-05-10T08:05:00.001-06:002016-11-10T04:48:45.417-07:00Is this thing on? <em><span style="font-size: large;">Oh hello there lovelies. Fancy running into you here.</span></em> <br />
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I type these words as though it's a coincidence running into you here when the fact is that I have deserted you dear readers for far too long. Fortunately, you have all had the most grand privilege of reading the delectable details of the other Anti-Austenites' love lives as I've been away. <br />
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And where is it that I've been dear readers? Well for the most part binge watching LOST and The West Wing while eating sweet potato pizza. Alone. In my apartment. In South Korea. (After diligently teaching English to lovely Korean children all day of course) <br />
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People constantly ask about my love life here. But as always, there is nothing to tell. Maybe there was a Korean man who's taken me out on several dates. But Korean dating is such an undefined wild beast for me, that I can still never make heads or tails of it. Perhaps a Korean gentleman is making advances towards me, but then again, perhaps he is just more skilled at using emoticons than Americans are. It's all very confusing. <br />
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When I tell Koreans that I have no dating life whatsoever, they seem just as perplexed as I am as to why I don't have one. (Which I find to be extremely validating). <br />
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"But you're so pretty!" (a cultural opinion, as I'm not by American standards)<br />
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"But you graduated from BYU!" (again not anything very special there)<br />
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"But you're so fun!" (ok, I do agree with them on that point. I am a barrel full of laughs) <br />
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"But you're a returned missionary!" So this last exclamation brings me to the discussion point of this blog post. In my experience (based on the spoken opinion of American men in my last BYU ward and some married American military men I've met here), guys don't like dating RMs. <br />
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But in Korea, a returned sister missionary is prized. Men here prefer to date an RM. And some parents worry that if their daughters don't serve a mission, they won't get married at all. <br />
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This has been my experience. <br />
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But this begs the question readers, what has been your experience? Is the undateable RM sister reality or myth? <br />
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Before my mission, I was the type of girl who went on multiple dates... in one day. <br />
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And now? <br />
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(insert funny joke here comparing my dating life to the California drought)<br />
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Well that's all for now dear readers. It may be another six months before I write you again. But maybe not. <br />
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Xoxo<br />-the RomanticThe Romantichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12238759269802799008noreply@blogger.com4