The Anti-Austen

I don't know what it is about single women at BYU that makes us react so irrationally to seemingly innocuous events.

I had to watch a movie last night up on campus for class. I had tried to arrange a group to go. But most of my friends had plans already. And I knew that when I tried to ask people to go. However, it didn't help the dark self-deprecating thoughts from sneaking into the corners of my mind.

And then as I walked up the hill to campus. Alone. Cold. And in the dark. The thoughts came to my mind and I said to myself, "Better get used to this, because going to the movies alone is how it's going to be for the rest of your life."

It was irrational. It is irrational. But I couldn't shake the nagging feelings of inadequacy. Men are literally running away from me, making me feel quite the social pariah. It's pathetic more than anything thing else. I'm happy, I really am. But I have two friends waiting for proposals, and I haven't feeling the tiniest inking for anybody in a really long time. Boys here and there have caught my fancy from time to time these last few months. But there's no deep connection. No spark.

As the deep wrenching hole in my chest grew bigger, I tried not to cry. The only thing more embarrassing than going to the movies alone would be to go alone and cry before the movie had even started. I felt akin to the man in Edvard Munch's famous painting.

Instead of weeping all night, I mustered the energy from somewhere deep within to call some friends to hang out after my movie had ended. And when I went over, I found that they were all having the same feelings of doubt. And that was a comfort. We can't all be crazy. We can all have the same crazy hormones though.

Frostys were purchased. Nails were painted. Long talks were mixed with the pungent smell of acetone. And a chick flick was put in to bring peace to our over worried minds.

A summation of the wisdom learned last night in one phrase, "Pie will love you, even when boys won't."

To all my dear sisters that toil through the struggle that we call dating in hopes of finding their own Mr. Darcy, don't fear. You are amazing. And we will find someone. Eventually. Until then, let us eat pie.

xoxo
-the Romantic

Sometimes I do these absolutely ridiculous things. And I don't know why I do them, because I usually end up embarrassing myself . But nevertheless, here I am, rambling away about my latest male exploit.

So I have this dream to marry some sort of throw back German Romantic. I have no idea where this notion came from, it's just what I want. And if they actually speak German, that would be nice too. And now, lo and behold, I'm finally in a German class with RMs that speak German. Gasp! Perfect right? I figure this is my opportunity to meet a guy that speaks my language, literally and figuratively speaking.

But I am a buffoon/creeper.

Naturally, there's a boy, that I think is fairly attractive. We were put in the same research group, so I have his email and what not. Let's call him Friedrich, weil es ein starker Deutscher Namen ist. We chatted one day after class, and I knew that he was giving a presentation the next class period. So I developed this fool-proof(not really because I am foolish) plan to look really cute that day so I could tell him after class what an awesome job he did on his presentation.
The day dawned bright, and I did look really cute....

But I got to nervous and didn't talk to him. (insert forehead slap here) So on a random "Friday afternoon I've gone a little bit crazy because it's the weekend" whim, I decided to email him to tell him what a fantastic job he did on explaining Romanesque and Gothic architecture movements in the Holy Roman Empire during the middle ages (because that's such a turn on... no but really it is, I'm an Art History major, remember?). After I sent it, I freaked out and refused to look at my email for hours, which turned out not to matter because he didn't email me back until the next morning. And by then, I was feeling so ashamed at my creeper-ness that I refused to read what it actually said until that night.

In my raving wild lunatic mind, I thought it would say something like, "Stay away from me you creeper girl!"

Ok, so it didn't say that. All it said was thanks. Well, there was an exclamation point that went with it as well.

Later he emailed our group a question, I responded in kind. He said he'd see me on Monday.

Here comes the part where I feel like a social pariah. He came in right before class started. And I'm talking ON THE HOUR here folks. And then he left insanely fast. Not even a glance backwards at my desk which sits kitty corner from his.

This was probably the longest winded story you've ever read. And perhaps I'm reading too much into it, because I usually do in cases such as these. But I just needed to tell you dear reader, why I feel like a dating leper.

I am repelling men at this point. Quite literally, I am making them run the opposite direction from me. I made plans to be bold; plans that failed quite miserably.

I suppose that as my friends continue to pick out engagement rings and wedding colors, I'll be looking for this guy:

"Oh, hello dear sir! ... No I don't mind a bit that your nose is falling off, I find it quite appealing actually."

xoxo
-the Romantic

I'm finding settling in my marriage a more and more appealing idea lately.

For example, if I settle, I won't have to worry about pesky roomies sleeping at the oddest hours.

I won't have to fight to get into the shower in the morning.

I can make my hubby take out the trash, and I will do the dishes... It's the perfect agreement.

The pressure to look attractive everyday will be less.

So maybe he will be old. Maybe he will be a little homely...

But at this point, I really don't care anymore.

I'm on the search to find a man as desperate as I am...

I know you thought marriage to an older man would be a sacrifice dear Goya, but the above illustrated situation is looking quite appealing at this point of my college career.

xoxo
-the (today anyway) UnRomantic

I jinxed it.

Well, I suppose that's a little harsh. This was no date with Ping. Hopefully I'll never experience a date more tortuous than that. And there were some really good moments. But sadly, they were offset by the awkward moments experienced.

So the plan was to have a group date with Mr. Bale's(my date was a Christian Bale look alike, if you squint, and see him in a certain light) room mates. Ok, great! I'm all for dinner and a movie. I love both activities. So we drive to his room mate's apartment to carpool. Much to my surprise, it was just his room mate in the car. Ok, so the roomie's date probably lives in Provo right? Nope... We drove 45 minutes to the boondocks of West Valley, to pick her up. It felt like some weird Polyandry date. Not something that I would recommend to anyone else (cough cough male readers). Of course I understand that economic times are tough, but there was another couple on our date, and I just wonder why we didn't car pool with them.

Then we drove another 20 minutes to the movie theater in West Jordan. Bought tickets for a later showing of Tangled, and then went to dinner. Which was also nice. But I just felt slightly out of place because the other couples were established couples, you know, holding hands, touching thighs, arms around each other, and other things like that. Don't get me wrong, they were all incredibly nice. But I felt out of place. They all knew each other. And it's clear they have their "group" that they commonly all hang with and I had only met my date hours before. Later during dinner, my poor date's throat was swelling shut for some reason... I'm not really sure, asthma maybe. But I could tell he was a little embarrassed.

After dinner was the movie. Which was adorable just as an aside. But someone had really bad gas. And I'd like to give my date the benefit of the doubt and say that it wasn't him. But then the putrid smell returned again in the car. Yikes...

We left the movies around 11:15, and didn't get back until 12:45. I was a little grumpy and disenchanted at that point. I think dates over 5 hours just drain me. Advice from the Romantic's little book of wisdom: Keep it short and sweet. It's better to end the date on a high note, and leave the girl wanting more rather than dragging it out and letting the magic die.

There were some good aspects of the date. He knows who the Format is! And you all know by now my love of indie music right?
But, (of course there's a but) there was no spark. The lack luster chemistry, coupled with the awkward moments turned me off a little bit.

Of course, after a good night's rest, and some reflection, I realize it wasn't all that bad. And I think I would like to give it another shot, if he asks me. But if he doesn't, I won't be heart broken.

xoxo
-the Romantic

Date.
Tomorrow night...

I really want to share more details.

But I'm deathly afraid of jinxing this, because I think it will be a good one.

But I will say that I'm really excited. It's technically a blind date. But I've seen loads of pictures (Christian Bale look a like? um, yes please)...He's my best friend's cousin. And when he called me, I really liked the sound of his voice.

And that's all that I will say about that...

xoxo
-the Romantic

With a new year approaching, I have decided to make a few dating resolutions

1) Do not bemoan the fact that Best Friend Guy is getting married.

2) Stop creeper lovin' on the EQP (it probably freaks him out).

3) Take dating less seriously, and school work more seriously.

4) Be more selective in my elbow touching.

5) Stop complaining about blind dates, because if nothing else, they make great blogging material.

So I've been on a few first dates this semester, but not any second dates. And I came to the conclusion that that is totally ok with me. Sweater Guy and I dated on and off for eight months. My heart needed time to heal. And that was my reply to any inquisitor over break.

I have startling news about Guitar Hero. I think I finally admitted to myself that I might sort of kind of have a thing for him. He does make me laugh harder than anyone I've ever met. And now that I'm finally interested in him, I don't think he's interested in me anymore. Boo.

Well, we shall see how this semester goes.

xoxo
-the Romantic

I think sometimes we get caught up in the bubble and completely forget that the experience at BYU truly unlike any other.

It isn't until we are confronted with the reality of the real world that we are brought back down to earth.

Obviously I've had a personal experience with this, otherwise I wouldn't be writing this, would I?

So the story:

I'm at home for break. None of my high school friends are Mormon. Their college experiences are completely different from mine. They remind that it is not normal to date for two weeks and then get engaged. One of my friends was lamenting that she never dates. The "dating" scene at her university consists of hooking up with guys after they buy you a drink. You are either in a relationship or hooking up with guys.

Now don't get me wrong. I know that not everyone dates at BYU and I know that some people just like to hook up. I also know that while my friend's experience is not the experience of every college student, it is somewhat nice to be reminded that the world doesn't work like BYU.

So on the off chance of sounding cheesy, perhaps we shouldn't complain so much about our dates.

Wait... I'm sorry that's impractical.

Rather, perhaps we should appreciate the unique opportunity that the Bubble has given us, and while we complain we should also enjoy laughing at the ridiculous predicament that we have placed ourselves in by attending BYU.

Kisses lovelies,

The Virgin

That just might be a record. Home for a little over 24 hours, and I've already had my first "I have a friend I want you to meet" chat, and a marriage lecture....

xoxo
-the Romantic

Creeper Loving: verb 1. To love someone in an unrequited stalker-like manner

example: I creeper love my my home teacher.

Awhile ago, some friends and I coined the term creeper love. It's a little bit more than a crush, but not the "feelings" stage. You know this person is not really your type, and things probably wouldn't work out. So you love them from afar. And even find yourself staring at them during the ward Christmas party..... awkward....

I creeper love this guys' apartment in the ward. I know I'm not really compatible with any of them. But I find myself in fits of giggles whenever I'm around them. And yeah, I've definitely been touching their elbows....

What will I ever do with myself?

xoxo
-the Romantic

And so it begins, another holiday season with constant reminders of my singularity of person.

Last night, I went to a festive holiday sweater party. The invitation didn't stipulate that it would be a couple's party. But a couple's party it turned out to be. I stood awkwardly by the chips and dip as everyone speculated over the upcoming nuptials of the couples in attendance. It went like this, "Marriage blah blah blah. Dates, blah blah blah. Honeymoon. More babbling here."
What could I have added to the conversation? Nothing on marriage certainly. So instead I piped up with a "Hey, I'm not getting married. But I am getting published."That's right. I stuck it to those couples in their matching holiday sweaters. Just because I'm single, doesn't mean I don't have exciting news too. Right?

But this encounter led me to a frightening realization. I will soon be returning to the land of my fore fathers (and by that, I just mean back home to CA). And soon the questions will come in torrents: Are you dating anyone? Got any special friends back at the Y? SOOOO, who is he? wink wink, nudge nudge.
The bloody inquisition of Christmas break 2010 is about to begin. But rather than Roman Catholic Priests drowning me in Holy Water, I'll be facing the mustached elderly women of my home ward Relief Society, torturing me with blind dates and their nephew/grandson/some obscure relative's phone number . Take your cover girls. It might be a long two weeks.

"No! NO! Sister Smith, please, I promise I'll look up Nephi as soon as I get back."

xoxo
-the Romantic

"A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment." -Jane Austen

True dat Jane, true dat.

A few posts ago, these questions were posed:
Here is a question for you ladies, how are the guys perceived who take out girls on dates just for fun? Are they considered fun but not serious? Is it harder to tell if a guy like that likes you?

I will attempt to answer these well posed questions. Please note that I will answer them from my own formed opinions after living in student wards for the past four years.

Guys who take girls on dates just for fun are usually perceived as not too serious about dating. They date for fun, they know how to date, and often their dates are creative and enjoyable. But just because they date often and sometimes have multiple dates a week, that doesn't mean they're bad guys. In fact, all the men that I can think of that date often, are usually the best guys. They follow the counsel of the Brethren to date rather than just hang out. But from a girl's perspective, I would say that it's harder to tell if a guy is interested in you if he dates often. Does a guy have any interest in you when he's also taken several of your roomies on dates? It's hard to say. For those answers, I would have to delve deep into the male psyche. And that journey would be a fearful one to undertake indeed.

As for myself, I prefer a man who doesn't date too often. I don't like feeling as though I'm prey living in the wild African deserts. (Note illustration above. I mean, really, who wants to be chased by that guy?) I place the serial dater in the same category as our female lioness. I don't think anyone wants to feel hunted, or numbered as one of many in a herd of gazelles. It's like I was telling my roomies earlier today, though I identify with many of the great heroines of literature, I mostly identify with Jo from Little Women. Give me a deep German man named Friedrich any day, who is first and foremost my friend, and we'll call it good.

xoxo
-the Romantic

As I journeyed to the great Idaho wilderness for Thanksgiving break, I was left with two choices: homework, or reading a novel (for fun!). I brought my homework with me, but unfortunately, my back pack remained safely zipped in my roomie's bedroom whilst jane eyre called out to me from her book shelf.

The choice was easy. Jane Eyre it was.

Living my romantic life vicariously through novels is so much the better choice than dating these days...or at least less awkward.

I viciously poured over the book for three days. Our departure loomed before us the next morning. Back to Provo, and back to above zero degree weather. I curled up in bed with the covers all around, determined to finish the tale of Jane and Mr. Rochester. But alas, I turned in with a mere 50 pages left. Right at the point where Mr. Rochester calls for Jane miles and miles away.

That is the scene that I fell asleep to.

And then I dreamed of my ex-boyfriend. "I will always need you" he said in my dream.

That is why we will not read Jane Eyre before bed again. For it never bodes well in the heart break department. I identify far too well the title character.

Well enough with the dramatics... back to studying!

(Although, I'm sure my posts will be quite numerous this week as I 'prepare'/procrastinate finals studying)

xoxo
-The Romantic

ps. for your viewing pleasure next march

No sparks, no fireworks. Nothing. Not even dislike or loathing reared their ugly faces. But at least that would have been something.

Bland... That pretty much sums up the date I had last Saturday.

Sad to say, the most exciting part was getting ready. I even curled my hair and borrowed some of my room mates "seductive spray" as she fondly calls it. And then I opened the door, and saw that I was over dressed. Well, not over dressed for the activity, but overdressed comparatively.

My friend texted me when I got home, asking me how it was. The only word to describe it was alright. I felt pretty apathetic about the whole thing. Which makes me feel a little bad.

Everything was executed the way it was supposed to be. Doors were opened, a stop at Cocoa Bean was made, everything was planned to a T. The night was neither too long, nor too short. But there was just something so boring about it all.

I think that sometimes BYU boy is an 80 year old man trapped inside a 21 year old body. I guess my back-up plan of marrying a rich 80 year man so I can inherit all of is money is out of the question. I realize now that I would die first. Of sheer boredom.

Perhaps this weekend will reward my hard work of tests and finals with something a little bit more exciting.
Until then,
xoxo
-the Romantic

I have a confession to make. I don't really date all that often.

GASP!

I know, shocking isn't it? How is it that I write on a dating blog then? I suppose it stems from the fact that I have a fantastical amounts of romantical ideals. And also, I seem to always have the strangest experiences with men.

I was recounting some of my favorite boy stories with a friend of mine the other night. Here's just a little taste:
-There was one boy, recently returned from his mission that my room mate liked. He did not like her back the same way. But he and I became very close. In fact, one night we cuddled. And my roomie was there, we thought she had been asleep. We thought we'd made sure. We called her name, told her to wake up. We really thought she'd been asleep. But she wasn't. Oh no she was not indeed. I found out later that she'd been pretending, and eavesdropping on everything we'd been talking about. And then we found out the boy had a semi-girlfriend at BYU-H anyway. So who he liked in Provo was moot point...It was perhaps the biggest drama of my entire life.

-Right before I left on my study abroad, my ex-boyfriend went crazy with grief that I was leaving, and drew me on his car... CREEEEEPY. I never saw it, I only heard about it while on my semester abroad. After I came back and he was dating someone else, I confronted him about it. But he said that it was in fact not me but just a "representational figure". Ha! My friends and I saw his car one day. The "representational figure" was scrubbed off. If it wasn't me, then why scrub it off?

-I scratched my cornea once. It happened to be while I was "watching" sound of music with my boyfriend at the time. i promise i wasn't being scandalous. but really, how does one scratch their cornea when kissing?? i still am not sure to this day.

This is just a small piece of what I go through with men. Best Friend Guy (who just got engaged on saturday, insert tears of sorrow here) thinks I should start having cameras follow me around, just so people see that I'm not making this stuff up, nor do I bring it upon myself. I just seem to attract the crazies.

So this semester, I've gone on a grand total of five dates! WHOO!

I think that's more than the rest of my years at BYU combined.

And one of my FHE brothers asked me out for Saturday! I think this really must be some sort of fluke. I've been going on dates with semi-normal people, and actually having fun! Saturday night, BYU boy (he is the biggest psycho fan of byu that you will ever meet) and I are going to the choir concert. Which is really nice, because I've mentioned how much I like the arts, and not sports. It shows thought. Although I will go to sporting events. I am a cougar after all.

It makes me wonder what I'm doing differently this semester, besides asking strange men for their number on the freeway of course.

It has to be some sort of fluke.

Remember how I went out with the boy I met on the freeway?

I guess I failed to mention that there was another car boy. A funnier/cuter one. Well after the first car boy added me on facebook, so did car boy 2, who happens to be car boy 1's room mate.

Well one thing leads to another, and Car Boy 2 and I end up going out for ice cream Tuesday night. And I felt like a bit of a floozy. Because I don't think car boy 1 knows we went out. Which wouldn't be a super big deal I guess. Except I think he had a good time on our date, and when he stopped by today to pick up the all sports pass I borrowed last weekend, he gave me a hug goodbye. And I don't think he's one of those hugger types. Originally, he raised his hand for a high five, but then just switched to both arms wide open... awkward awkward awkward

But I think I could like car boy 2!! It was the first date I've been on this semester where I haven't thought, "Oh hey this is fun. But I wish I was here with Sweater Guy". So that's good right? I think he had a good time. He mentioned wanting to hang out again. And we have texted a bit this week. I invited him to a bonfire tonight. But he's out of town this weekend.

On another note: We will title this "Coincidence or not?" (It's like getting two blog posts for the price of one!!!)
Sweater Guy's best friend emails me on Sunday to see how I'm doing. It was kind of random. But not completely out of character. We were close-ish. But since we're not in the same social group anymore, I haven't talked to him in over a month. I answer back with the usuals. I tell I still miss Sweater Guy but that I'm doing ok. And even dating people. And then mysteriously, the next morning, I awaken to three missed calls. All in a row. All from a blocked number.
1:05 am. 1:06. 1:07 am. No Messages.
Of course I didn't answer because I was asleep. My suspicion is that they were from Sweater Guy. And I don't know why he would call me, except that the next day was the Sufjan Stevens concert. Which we were supposed to attend together. And maybe he missed me... Later in the week he messages me on facebook. This message is just a link about lil wayne getting out of prison. Lil Wayne was a little inside joke we had when we first started dating. I don't know what he's up to these days. He could already be dating someone else. Which is whatever.

Are all these events connected? Or is it just my over active imagination?
But even if they weren't, I was still upset at his popping back into my life without any explanation. Last time we talked he hung up the phone on me because it's too painful to be my friend. Which kind of felt like someone ripping my heart from my chest and beating it with a mallet. So is he saying he's ready to be friends? Because I'm not really sure a) I want to be his friend and b) maybe it's still too painful for me too.

Well that's all folks. I need to go mull this mess over.... Have a pleasant date night!

xoxo
-the Romantic

And now, for a recounting of the infamous car boy date.

I personally think it's tacky to ask a girl out in text form. But I do suppose since we never talked before (besides the whole going 60 miles an hour on the freeway thing), that a text message was the least threatening way to ask me out.

I was flipping about before, as per my normal pre-date routine. I don't know why. It just always happens. My room is still wrecked because of the flurried whirlwind of clothing that tornado-ed around my room last night. I opted for a simple over sized plaid jumper type thing, with skinny jeans, and my converse. My hair was curled, and my make up reapplied. The way I saw it, things would either be horribly awkward, or really fun. I was going to try my best to make it as fun as possible.

He picked me up around 6:45. And off we went to the first basket ball game of the season. I thought conversation flowed quite well from the beginning. The game actually went by pretty quickly. And the conversation was good. But it was pretty apparent from the get go that we don't really have ANY interests in common. He basically only likes sports. I do not. I'll go to games of course, but mostly just to be with the people I'm with.

Something he said bothered me though. I asked him what he wanted to do with his major. He said he didn't really know, he just wanted to have a well paying job when he graduated. This comment made me think. I think my biggest turn off is apathy. I think I've probably given up on my husband having the same interests as me, but I still want him to be passionate about something; and appreciate my passions, so that we can share them with each other.

After the game, we went to Sammy's. I finally had a pie shake for the first time after living in P-town for four years. It was scrumptious.

I'm pretty sure he was having a good time, because then he suggested we check out a haunted house by brick oven. Here I should mention that I am the biggest scardey cat on the face of the planet. It only takes a whispered, "Hey, what was that sound?" to send me hurtling into a major panic attack. So I told him we could go, but I'd probably grab onto his arm the whole time. But then he just made fun of me for it. I know it's pretend! But I have horrible night vision!

I guess by the end of the date, what it came down to is that he was trying to hard to be "cool". The basketball game was fun. But the macho, I'm too cool for this haunted house attitude ruined it.

I could have invited him to my ward Halloween party tonight. He did mention several times he had no plans for the evening. But I opted not to.

Maybe I'll say yes to a second date. But I just don't see it happening at this point.

There was a small change made in my holiday plans last night.

He asked me to go home with him for Thanksgiving.

He doesn't live in Orem. It's a substantial flight.

I'm so excited.

How early is too early to start planning outfit ideas?
Don't answer that...

xoxo
The Virgin

A date with car boy to the first BYU b-ball game of the season? check yes...

and for those of you who are worried about me going on a random date with some man i just met on the freeway. DON'T. I checked him out. And he's actually in my friend's ward. Small world eh?

A group of us were on our way to the great metropolis of Salt Lake City to see the Orchestra at Temple Square perform. I was excited. I curled my hair. Dressed up. And even wore my signature trench-coat scarf combo.

We piled in our friend's car, all five of us. We were ready to roll; up until we hit I-15 that is. 30 minutes after getting on the freeway, we still hadn't hit Pleasant Grove yet. But it was all good. We were just a group of friends, having fun, chatting it up, living our lives.

And then there was this other car. We could see that there were Cougars, just like us, painfully stuck in traffic on a Friday night. It soon became a little waving game. Each car would wave enthusiastically when we passed each other, like the long lost free way buddies we were.

And then they passed us once more, the back window of the driver's side rolled down. So naturally, me being on the passenger side, I rolled down my window too. We chatted. Found ou they were from Provo too. They looked like a friendly bunch (obviously). The traffic was beginning to speed up. I couldn't let the opportunity slip away while the fun was getting started.

So I held up my phone, and motioned to the guy I'd been "chatting" with that he should give me his number. And then he did!!!!! Holding up his fingers, he pantomimed his number while we went 60mph.

I was shocked at myself. I never do things like that. EVER.

The digits were saved in my phone under car boy.
"What next?" I asked my companions. "Text him!" was their reply.

So I did. Banter ensued....

And I'm pretty sure I'll have a date next week with car boy.

Just something to think about next time you're stuck in traffic. ;0)

xoxo
-the Romantic

There is a girl in my ward. And I thought she was flirtatious before last night, but man. I had NO IDEA. Before, she just wanted to date. But now, she just wants a boyfriend. And everyone is talking about it. Our FHE brothers remarked on it to a room mate last night. They said she's literally going door to door, making her rounds as she stalks the poor unsuspecting elders in our ward.
One room mate asked her why she doesn't find one boy to like and then focus in on him, and date him. She replied that that just isn't how she works. She's picked several boys to focus on, and will continue to focus on all of them until one of them wants to date her. It's madness! Madness I say! Several boys came over last night. And there was some serious physical contact going on. And I don't just mean elbow touching. I'm talking thigh grabs, upper arm grabs, and arms around the backs of their chairs.
The craziest thing of all, was that I could see this working. The boys were literally melting in her attention.
I'm really interested to see how this all plays out... If you've ever take Anthro 101 from Professor Crandall, it's like the hunting movie we have to watch. The hunters chase a giraffe for five days as the poison from a spear takes over their nervous system. And they don't move anymore. Our Lioness is slowly circling until eventually, she will catch one of these poor boys in her grasp. It's sad, but you just can't look away because on the other hand, it's just too entertaining.

-the Romantic.

ps. guitar hero is MIA. maybe i did read the signals wrong... but i think i'm really ok with it.

It has become the joke amongst my friends and I that touching a man's elbow is the way to capture his attention. Whether or not that's really true, I've been practicing lately to see if it really works.

And I think that maybe it does.

So I haven't even really being putting the elbow grabbing method into practice, I've just been joking around with boys that I will grab their elbow when they do "attractive" things. Such as play the guitar at the ward talent show.

And then, all of a sudden Guitar Hero(he plays guitar quite well) pops on facebook chat all the time now. He comes over, wanting to hang out, and watch arrested development on his big screen.

The next thing I know, I come home at curfew, having watched 6 episodes of arrested development, sitting next to him (arms touching) on the big couch (with no one else sitting on the big couch), deeply confused. And analyzing everything to death.

Does that mean he's interested? I mean, you don't just sit on the big couch, right next to someone, arms touching, for six episodes of arrested development, if there's no interest right?!

It's times like these that make me feel like the Harvard Sailing Team understands the woman psyche way too well.

My favorite part was when I was dissecting this story with one of my friends in German class the next day, and my 80 year old Professor chimed in. (To be read with a German accent) "It does not matter if your arms were touching. It matter if your skin was touching. Were your arms bare?" Danke Herr Professor. I will keep that in mind from now one. I informed him that I was wearing three quarter length sleeves. Subsequently, there was no skin contact that night.
So here are my concerns:
1) It's my turn to invite him to do something now. But I'm not sure if I really want to or not. I'm still getting over Sweater Guy, truth be told. And I think that's ok, because we only officially broke up about a month and half ago.
2) So, let's say I am ready/interested in Guitar Hero. What if I'm just reading all the signs wrong? And then I do something too forward, and get my heart smashed into thousands of tiny little pieces?

I think the plan will be to just continue being friendly. And try not to freak out.

I can't wait for the day when I'm married, and I can look back at dating and just laugh.

xoxo
-the Romantic

Let's get one thing straight. I don't bake.

I am the queen of baking disasters.

So let's just all agree that the fact that I'm making him his mother's famous lemon cake for his birthday is kind of a big deal.

And let's all pray that it turns out...

Heaven knows I could use a break.

Le Virgin

Remember the story of the Dramatic One and the Skeleton?

He told her in text he didn't have feelings for her. Three years of emotions destroyed with one simple electronic message. The Dramatic One has pulled through remarkably well. And I am quite proud of her.

She's been there for me through the all of my break ups. I'm only happy to return the favor.

But on the other hand, sometimes guys can be sweet.

My conversations with the Virgin lately have been touching reports of her current blissful relationship status. Bravo dear sir!

A funny story to end the post:

In efforts to be more forward and flirtatious, I was trying to text this boy that he was a super cute guy. It fit in context of the conversation ok? It wasn't until the next day after receiving his confusing response that I realized I had forgotten a word... cute. So I just called him a super guy... (Insert forehead slap here). There is no way to fix that! Gah! I give up. He hasn't really texted me since. Our plans for gelatto seem to be put on hold indefinitely. I felt like a giant zit on the face of the BYU dating scene. My roomies insist that I am not. I will try to believe them and solider onward, hoping that one day, one man will find my Mary-like antics endearing and not ...weird.

-the Romantic

And you couldn't be happier.

xoxo
V

Anxiety Attack

How Foolish of Me: In Which the Romantic Contracts Dating Leprosy

Reasons to Settle

When good dates go bad...

A long time coming...

New Year's Resolutions & Reflections

Wake Up, This is the Real World Calling

Just over 24 hours

Creeper Lovin'

'Tis the Season

Finals Musings

Questions Answered

Memo to self: never read Jane Eyre before bed

Nothing.

This has to be some sort of fluke or something

What sort of mess have we gotten oursevles into this time?

3 out of 5 stars

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Sometimes Guys are Jerks

Sometimes You Date Your Best Friend

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