Happy Halloween!

10/31/2011 The Blue Stocking 7 Comments

I hope all of you are having a fantastic Halloween and just a word of advice when it comes to costumes: there is a fine line between cool zombie chick and terrifying girl that no one talks to, tread carefully.

….now on to gory stories that make up my life.

The past couple of weeks have quite interesting on the boy front. I can’t explain how I get into such weird situations, but I can’t seem to escape them. In order to catch you up to a certain degree I’m going to do a run down on the guys.

The RM. Ever since I laughed at the RM’s invitation to go cuddle two weeks ago he has been ignoring me…laughter really was the only way to respond at this point. Well this weekend I got a text from him asking how I’m doing. I was a bit relieved and hoped that this was his attempt to smooth things over. I told him I was fine and asked about him. This is what he said.

"I’m good, just dating and stuff."

Hahahahahahahaha

He literally just texted me so he could tell me he was dating other girls now. Hilarious

Of course, I responded telling him how happy I was for him. I guess at the end of the day, no matter how ridiculous he acts, I really do want him to be happy.

On to the next guy…Scooter. Ya, I haven’t mentioned him in a while. That’s not because he’s gone, I just got tired of writing updates about him.

So Scoot’s been asking me out and I been rather busy with other dates and school so I haven’t accepted any of his last minute invitations. The real kicker in this story is after I say no to Scoot he immediately calls up my roommate and asks her out….not kidding.

I honestly wonder what he thinks he’s going to get out of this. Does he want me to get jealous? Really the only thing he’s done so far is made my roommate and I resolve to never see him again…. O wait he might be my home teacher next semester. Ya I’ll keep you posted.

Now onto Sports Fan. Sports Fan has finally forgiven me for “rejecting him” {a.k.a canceling a date to do a school project}. I’m thinking the real reason he’s talking to me is because it’s hard to ignore someone whose friends with your entire apartment. All well, I’m just glad the awkwardness is over.

Service Boy. I don’t know what to say, I’m pretty sure he likes me. We literally talk every day. The only problem is there is an awkward factor to our relationship, something that would make it quite difficult to date. Sorry I’m being mysterious, but if I give up that nugget of truth I may just reveal myself altogether. As of now I’ve reached the point where he needs to do something big in order to win me over. It’s been too long for me to just keep waiting around for him.

Onto the next fellow

Do you remember the guy who’s my size and I’m not sure if I want to date him….well let’s just say things have taken a turn for the hilarious/stalker. I wish I had more time, but this post is already a short novel.

until next week…

-The Blue Stocking.

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To flatter and follow others, without being flattered and followed in turn, is but a state of half enjoyment.

10/30/2011 The Lady 11 Comments

My Friends,

This week, we were sent two emails that were so strikingly and uncannily similar in content that I had to check back again to make sure that the same person did not simply email us twice. The fact that two people wrote in about the exact same issue this week only strengthened my faith in divine intervention. [Please note that I am not stating that God has a direct hand in our blog].

I would love to include both of these emails in this post, but for the sake of time and space, I will simply summarize.

These two wonderful young women who wrote us this week are frustrated. To put it simply. During their time at BYU [which has been much more than just their freshman semester] they have never been asked out on a date. Not once. They both assured me that they are not ugly, that they both shower regularly, and they are both involved in their wards and at school. They are happy with their lives, but they just don't understand why other girls get asked out while they do not.

This is my answer to my two young friends:

Once upon a time, there was a young woman who wrote for a secret dating blog, who called herself The Coquette. She was thus called The Coquette because during a period of three years, she went through men like people with colds go through Kleenex tissues, because she believed that men should be "soft, strong, and disposable". She was a black widow spider who devoured the men who wandered into her sticky web.

Then The Coquette moved to a new city called Provo in the province of Utah to complete the last couple of years of her college education. Here The Coquette had a completely new set of experiences. While her friends, The Romantic, The Blue Stocking, and The Charmer spent their weekends being courted by men [some were awkward and some were charming], The Coquette spent her weekends watching Persuasion and reading romantic [not graphic] novels. During a period of two years, The Coquette could count the number of dates she had been on on one hand.

The Coquette just didn't understand what had happened. "Perhaps this is punishment from the gods for luring all those men to their deaths," she thought to herself. But since she only believed in one God, that didn't seem plausible. "Maybe I have just lost my youth and beauty already," she said looking in the mirror. But the mirror reflected back the image of a beautifully average-looking young woman. "Maybe I smell bad." But all the men who came around to flirt with her always complimented her on her personal hygiene. "I wonder what it could be," she thought.

One day, she was just so fed up with not getting asked out that she called her mother. After explaining her frustrations, her mother, who was very wise told The Coquette of her own dating experiences.

This is what The Coquette's mother told her:

When I was in college, my roommate had a magazine that had in it one of those quizzes that would reveal to you your appeal to men based on how many men you had kissed, held hands with, etc. Well, my roommate who had dated many people scored quite high, but I, on the other hand scored a zero. I received no points at all. In fact the quiz told me blatantly that I was completely sexless!

But the very next weekend, I was asked out for a date. We were doubling with my date's friend, and his date. Now I was friends with my date, but his friend and I enjoyed each oth er's company so much that we eventually got married. And that is the man you call "Father". That quiz claimed that I was sexless, that I had no appeal to men, and I almost believed that what it told me was true, but your father proved that quiz wrong. I didn't need to be asked out by a countless number of men in order to find the one who really mattered.

The Coquette thought her mother was very wise, and went away from their conversation quite satisfied.

Now The Coquette still spends her weekends in almost the same way while her friends go on dates and others plan their weddings, but she hardly bats an eye. The Coquette is involved in her ward, she is friendly, a little flirtatious [much less so than the days of yore] and of course she would love to be dating, but she has decided that no matter what, she has a life to live. She has decided that dating [or not dating in her case] is only as stressful as she makes it. She has decided to believe that romance will come much easier to her if she worries about it much less.

The Coquette may spend the rest of her mortal days being completely sexless [and she means that in the most respectful sense] but she does not want to spend her days waiting, wishing, and hoping that someone will come knock on her door and whisk her off to the temple.

There is no secret key to dating. No magic formula. No set rules.

And The Coquette plans to live happily ever after.

Con Amor,

The Coquette

Disclosure: This post, my friends, was not meant to leave you feeling hopeless about your situation, but rather to make you feel that you are not alone. Dating is completely different for everyone. Some people get asked out on a billion dates, others get asked out on very few, others get asked out on none at all, but it will work out. It may be as disheartening as the Infernal Regions, but I have faith that things will always work together for our good according to the timing of our loving Heavenly Father if we are acting in righteous ways.

P.S. The Romantic sends her love to you all.

P.P.S. You all know how I love to beat dead horses and preach to the choir and all that jazz, but if you have yet to vote for us for the student blog competition, please go to this post. If you have already voted, please accept a virtual high-five from yours truly [Please high-five toward your screen in three...two...one]. Perfect.

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The perfect man?

10/27/2011 The Anti-Austen 29 Comments

Hello readers, I am Featherstone McGee (clearly my parents were hippies). When I was asked to write a guest post for the Anti-Austen, I was in the middle of cleaning my gun while eating a steak I had prepared after returning from a trip to the range (where I did quite well, I might add). I’ll skip any real introduction as the lesson that follows will (hopefully) give you a sense of who I am.

Last Sunday was stake conference and my stake was graced by the presence of Elder M. Russell Ballard himself. If you’ve lived in Provo for more than thirty seconds, you know the equation: (Apostle+Conference)*BYU=Dating. Needless to say, I hung on every word, carefully listening for anything that might give me an edge over my future competition. Funny that the line that really got me thinking was one addressed to the sisters:

“Sisters, stop looking for the perfect man. There isn’t one here.”

The rusty wheels in my head slowly started turning. We can’t be perfect men, but we can sure be dang good men. So what makes a man a good man? We all have our own views on this subject, shaped by our own experiences. That line from Elder Ballard started to remind me of the lessons I had learned over the past few years. Here are the ones I feel are most important, in no particular order.

A man treats a woman with respect. “The true measure of a man can be found in his relationship with women.” I regret to say that I don’t remember the name of the General Authority who said this. But I try to live my life by this quote. Tall or short, ripped or scrawny, magnificently bearded or physically unable to grow more than three tiny whiskers, if you do not treat a woman as a daughter of God, you are no man. This is the most important lesson that I can impart.

A man makes a woman feel safe. One thing that many women look for in a man is that they can feel safe when they are with him (source: many women). In most cases, it doesn’t matter how you do this. Some men have big muscles (this is not Featherstone McGee). Some have a “do not start trouble here” sort of presence. Others have studied martial arts. Others choose to carry a gun for personal protection. And then there are the bravest men of all who, no matter their size or proficiency in fighting, will place themselves in harm’s way before ever letting anything happen to the women he cares about, whether she be his mother, his sister, his friend, or his significant other.

A man knows when to listen and when to act. This lesson took me a long time to learn. Men by their nature are doers. We take action. Problem à Solution àAction. But guys, get this: sometimes a woman just wants you to listen, to comfort her, to validate her feelings rather than only half-listening while forming a plot to avenge the wrong that has taken place.

A man knows that it’s okay to have feelings. "If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?" ~William Shakespeare

A man is still human (werewolves, vampires excluded) and understands that it’s okay to have feelings. We all feel love and hate, hope and despair, strength and weakness, courage and fear.

A man does not post dresses on a Pinterest instead of courting wonderful and exciting women. In light of recent events (and because every now and then we need a good dose of humor) I felt like mentioning this one. I would like to take this opportunity to note that Featherstone McGee does not have a Pinterest account. You could say that this lesson is about priorities. A good man has his in the right order.

A man is faithful to his Priesthood. This, I feel, is an important one in our LDS culture. LDS women generally want a man who honors his Priesthood. So guys, do your home teaching. Read your scriptures. Pray. Always be worthy to give a blessing – you never know when you’ll be called upon to give one. The blessing of a worthy Priesthood holder leading your household is a wonderful thing.

A man has a good work ethic. Men are most often the providers in the family dynamic. As such, a man needs to have a good work ethic. Always put your best effort into the work that you do. Don’t be a workaholic though! Anything ending in “aholic” is usually bad. Remember balance: Work hard, play hard.

A man has a sense of humor. Enjoy life! Have fun! Make a girl laugh. Make her smile. Your looks will fade with time, but a good sense of humor will survive through eternity. When I was younger, I would go out with my Priest Quorum advisor to visit the elderly couples who couldn’t attend Church on Sundays to bring them the Sacrament. I’ll never forget the wise advice of one man in his mid-90’s. “Don’t get old, son. You can’t control when you poop.” Yes. Over 90 years old and still making poop jokes? He was definitely a man.

Now I leave you with the immortal words of African American poet Skee-Lo:

“I wish I was little bit taller,
I wish I was a baller
I wish I had a girl who looked good
I would call her
I wish I had a rabbit in a hat with a bat
and a '64 Impala”

You can’t honestly tell me that it wouldn’t be awesome to have a rabbit in a hat.

~Featherstone McGee

P.S. Fun facts about Featherstone McGee!

1. I have never read a Jane Austen novel.

2. I don’t date as often as I’d like to, thanks to work and school.

3. I would rather die than wear tight pants.

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Blog Contest!

10/25/2011 The Lady 1 Comments

Dearest Darling Readers,

The Blue Stocking recently discovered a blog competition for student writers.

We're students.

We're writers [or so we feel].

So we're in the competition.

So please go to the post: "The last man I could ever be prevailed upon to marry" and vote for us! [By clicking on the stamp...link...thing...].

Thank you for your patronage.

The Anti-Austens

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And the Winner is...

10/25/2011 The Charmer 8 Comments

When last I left you, I had just gone to the hockey game with Mr. Director.
And I had a FABULOUS time with him.

Who knew hockey could be so fun to watch? I've never been to a hockey game before. Look at me, trying all sorts of new things!
Mr. Director was quirky and a little bit goofy and not at all like Masimo. But even though I tried not to be, I couldn't deny that I was attracted to those unpredictable little quirks. (And I really did try! Remember--I was planning on giving Masimo a chance? [Kinda?] I tried not to let myself be attracted to Mr. Director.)

After the game, we drove back to Provo and got frozen yogurt. I was really just having a lot of fun with him...the conversation was good, I was legitimately laughing a lot, I was intrigued by the way this boy thought about things...and at one point in the evening when Mr. Director touched my knee, I realized I liked it. A lot.

When we were finished with our yogurt, Mr. Director pointed out what time it was and told me that he could take me home if I wanted. But he also mentioned that he wouldn't mind watching a movie with me if I was up for it.

And...I surprised myself by agreeing to watch a movie with him.
Yes, I knew this was a dangerous move, because I knew that if we watched a movie I would cuddle with him. After all, a) that's the reason boys watch movies with girls and b) I secretly wanted to anyways. It was practically inevitable.

So we went back to his house and put in a movie. Sure enough, I was in his arms before too long. And I have to admit that I liked it better than when I had been in Masimo's arms a couple weeks earlier. (I especially liked it better than when Piano Man tried to cuddle with me.) Surprisingly, it wasn't awkward, either; we were still laughing and having fun even though we both knew that they had crossed some serious relationship boundaries. And somewhere in the midst of the cuddling, there might have even been a bit of hand-holding. This was fairly significant, because even though I have found myself in the arms of many boys recently, I haven't held anyone's hand since The Ex.

After the movie, Mr. Director took me home. Even though I was realizing just how much I liked him, my conscience was not happy with me. After all, I didn't know at this point that I wouldn't talk to Masimo all weekend...I was still planning on calling him up to chat, and I felt a little guilty for cuddling with Mr. Director. So, as he was walking me to my doorstep, I blurted out, "Just so you know, I'm probably going to freak out about this tomorrow, since my love life just got a whole lot more complicated."

Mr. Director looked surprised for a second. Then, he slowly smiled and said, "Well...thanks for the warning."

Then, despite the fact that it was 1:30 in the morning, we proceeded to stand outside my door and chat for another hour. It was similar to the chat with Piano Man, except that I felt a lot less confused. Mr. Director told me he was interested in dating me, even though he admitted that things had moved very quickly. He wasn't trying to manipulate me into dating him like Piano Man did; he didn't give me a list of reasons why Masimo was a bad choice for me or why he, Mr. D, would be better. Okay, so he would occasionally throw in a plus side of dating him, such as, "Well...I'd make you chocolate waffles whenever you wanted." But it was really just a good conversation. In the end, I told him that I needed a little bit of time to think about it. After all, things had moved extremely quickly, which is what I was trying to avoid by dating Masimo in the first place! He said that he was fine with giving me time and that he was looking forward to dealing with my impending freakout.

I wandered in my front door around 2:40 AM and collapsed on my roommate's bed. I told her what had gone down and that I didn't know what to do. I think the phrase I uttered most often during this pillow talk was, "What about Masimo?!"

Finally, after saying this for the umpteenth time, my roommate chimed in with, "Well, what ABOUT Masimo?! Masimo loses!"

And I realized that Masimo had lost. I'd told Mr. Director that I needed time to think about it, but what I'd really meant was that I needed time to figure out how to break the news to Masimo. I'd already made up my mind.

This became especially apparent to me when I had the thought, "This would be SO much easier if Masimo was interested in another girl!"
Wait, what?! Did that thought really just cross my mind?

So on Saturday morning at 3:15 AM, Masimo fell completely out of the picture.

A few hours later, I woke up expecting to feel a twinge of regret over the events of the past night...
...and I didn't.
In fact, there was no freakout like I had predicted. I was fine all day...and actually, I was more than fine. I was excited about the prospect of a relationship with Mr. Director. I was excited to spend time with him and to get to know him.
That night, as you might recall, was our scheduled date. However, I ended up going over to his house to watch the football game...so it ended up becoming more of an all-day excursion sort of thing. We went out to dinner that night and then just walked around downtown Provo.
We talked about him. We talked about me. We talked about the things we would do if we were dating. We talked about Masimo and Piano Man. We talked about how my expected freakout hadn't occurred. Mostly, we talked about what would happen if we started dating.
And by the end of the night, that conversation had change to what would happen when we started dating.

I knew that I should be freaking out about how quickly this was moving...but for some reason, I wasn't. In fact, I felt really, really good about the situation. I honestly felt like dating him was the right thing for me to be doing.

And that is why, a couple nights later, we were officially dating.
And the freakout has yet to happen.

Let me stop and take a breath or two.

So that, my lovely friends, is the long-winded story of how my love life was messy and confusing and crazy and yet somehow worked itself out in an unexpected way.

I still haven't heard from or talked to Masimo.
Piano Man's pride is wounded...but I think he's happy that at least he didn't "lose to a ballroom dancer."
And I am quite happy with Mr. Director and with my current situation, despite the fact that it all happened very fast.

Okay, okay. I confess: He had me at "chocolate waffles."

Kisses and grins,
The Charmer

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Dignity in Dating

10/23/2011 The Blue Stocking 6 Comments

Presented by Guide to Online Schools

So sorry to respond late to this email {I hope my advice still applies to the situation}. A little thing called midterms has taken over and I have been neglecting living life and this blog. I apologize. Anyhoo, this post is not about me, I don’t want it to deal with me at all. In fact, my dating life has become so confusing that I don’t even want to address it on the blog this week. Avoiding my problems? You betcha.

The following is a letter from Frankly Frustrated.

Dear Anti-Austens,

In order to fully understand the predicament I find myself in please read the following with the story of Emma in mind. You know Emma, the intelligent, witty, beautiful, and caring girl that literally find her KNIGHT(ly) in shining trousers and tie. Ah...it's a great story of friendship blooming into love is it not? Unfortunately, that is not where my thoughts are about to go.

My thoughts are focused on a different character in this story. Frank Churchill. The mysterious, intriguing, entertaining and elusive interest of Emma's. (before her KNIGHT(ly) of course) I think it safe to say that I have found him. He has removed himself from gentile society of Emma's world and parked his rear right across the street and is causing quite the stir in the lives of many.

Frank is a flirt. A huge flirt. A good flirt. Many girls are interested in him. Unfortunately I find myself mingling with this company and just when I am about to officially decide to leave his minions he does something to make me stay. There are too many of these instances to recount in detail so I'll try to be brief. We like bullet points do we not?

He runs after me to accompany me back to my car
He always insists he goes hiking with me next time I go
He makes an effort to get my attention at a crowded party
He smiles and turns my way many times during sacrament meeting (yes, I did listen to the wonderful talks as well. It took a lot of effort)
He winks at me in sacrament meeting (wait, what? a wink? yes. he did. I do not know what the heck that even means. Could you please expound on the occurrence of the countenance that is the wink?)
He provides great conversation (something that has been lacking in my last few dates)

I have found myself acting in a way that surprises me. In an effort to keep myself from losing all dignity and admitting to myself that I am indeed a Frank follower, I interact with him in a cynical, disdainful manner which I hate. That's not who I am. But if I stop being that way then I'm just another one of the girls. I don't want that. If I continue with the way I am then there's no chance of him ever seeing me as the fun person I really think I might be.

So what say ye? Should I just give him up to the rest of the girls? Allow them the satisfaction of having one less contestant for his affection? Or try harder to beat them out and lose this cynical facade I have built around myself?

I trust you to give your honest opinion, not sparing my feelings as my lovely friends do. I appreciate their encouragement and support, but I need someone to tell me if I'm being crazy and pathetic, or if I have some sort of hope.

Sincerely,

Frankly Frustrated

Dear Frankly Frustrated,

You and I seem to indulge in a similar trait, it’s called pride. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I have snubbed the popular boy because I didn't want to wade through the hordes of girls circling him. See, I am a firm believer of not competing for guys; instead, I wait for them to chase me. I also tend to resort to sarcasm as my main method of communication with said popular boys, and it really does stop them from ever seeing me. The real me.... needless to say both these methods don't lead me happily into a relationship.

Now, I don’t know the whole situation and obviously I have never seen the two of you together, but from the bullet points above it seems like he likes you or is showing some interest in you {side note: winking could very well be the most wonderful thing a guy could do to you without physically touching you. Winking is a big deal. It just is}.

So here’s what you do: decide now which is worth more to you; your dignity, or this guy.

If you just chose the guy, congrats, you’ve done something I’ve been trying to do for a long time. Now on to the hard part, you need to put yourself out there.

You say he has a lot of girls around him, then set yourself apart from them. Make him notice you and try to get some one on one time with him to see if you even connect.

Here’s an idea: If he told you to tell him the next time you go hiking, then plan a hiking trip and invite him. I’m not saying act desperate, just go up and say “Hey Franky boy {by all means choose another name if it suits your fancy} I’m going hiking Saturday morning if you wanna come." You can even text that to him or casually hint at it in your next conversation. It doesn't matter, just as long as you do something.

Now we need to analyze some of the possible outcomes in true girl fashion and compare cost and benefit.

First outcome- He says no and you don’t end up dating

Second outcome- You go hiking there is no spark and you don’t end up dating.

Third outcome- You go hiking. It's magical like unicorns and stuff. You start to date and voila, The Blue Stocking is a genius.

If the first two happen, I say so what. You put yourself out and you lived a moment with no regrets and maybe next time you apply your new-found confidence it could pay off. If the last one happens, congrats! You risked it all and won.

Last bit of advice: liking someone is hard, but what’s infinitely harder is missing out on someone because you let yourself get in your own way. Sometimes you just have to get very confident and go for it.

Disclosure: this in no way is a green light for stalking; don’t blame me if you get a restraining order.

-The Blue Stocking

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To a worthy member of the male species.

10/23/2011 The Lady 8 Comments

Women and Men of BYU’s Premier Dating and Relationship Blog,

I am a man in need of your advice. I have been reading your blog for a month or so and have come to appreciate your different insights and opinions (as well as your preference for anonymity). I will try to keep this brief, while providing the details necessary to explain my current situation.

My story:

High school wasn’t easy for me. Socially, I was a late bloomer (if you can call a quirky social awkwardness “blooming” at all). I went on a few dates, and dated a couple girls who were, for some reason, attracted to (or at least not deterred by) my social awkwardness.

Then came the mission. I enjoyed my service to the Lord and had some of the most wonderful experiences of my life. I joined the Dear John Receivers club just before my 21^st birthday, about six months before coming home. The man that returned is a much more disciplined, knowledgeable, and mature person than the boy that left.

Shortly after my return, I started a long distance relationship with a girl that I had met while serving. For the record, I did not have these feelings during my service. I scrimped and saved to visit her once a month (at one point, my diet consisted of milk and Club crackers). We were together for eighteen months, but things became rocky after the first six. There were a lot of factors that contributed to the slow collapse of our relationship. The one most pertinent to this plea is that she and I eventually crossed some very important lines (but not to the furthest degree). When the breakup finally came, I was devastated. Possibly because she had been dating her new boyfriend for nearly a month before breaking up with me.

A month later, I went to my branch president and repented of the things which I had done. I will forever be grateful to him for his love and understanding. I have experienced the healing power of the Atonement first hand. As part of this process, my ex and I forgave each other.

I had no interest in dating after that. I spent the next year and a half rebuilding myself. I found hobbies that I enjoyed and began to rebuild my confidence in myself. I’m proud of how far I’ve come (yet still aware of how far I have to go).

Six months ago I decided that I was ready to start dating again. If

there’s one thing I’ve learned over the last six months, it’s that I have no clue what I’m doing. I've been on a few dates with one girl from work, but that's it. Nothing serious. It doesn't look like it's going anywhere. Since it's really not going anywhere right now, I've decided that I need to date more people. However, since I haven't been very social in the past, I'm not sure what to do. Most of my life is school and work. My ward doesn't really know me. And I'm not sure how to go about asking random women (i.e. girls I'm not already friends with) from campus on dates (or "Just find a girl and ask her out!" as a buddy of mine puts it).

To be honest, I'm embarrassed that I haven't mastered the art of dating as it seems so many of my friends have. I should know the things I'm asking. However, I feel like my past, both the unfortunate choices I've made and the heartbreak I've dealt with, have rendered me unable to make a move (my biggest move in the last year: putting my arm around the girl from work. in fact, it wasn't even around her. it was behind her). I was out with a girl last night and she practically said "hey - kiss me" and I let that fly right over my head.

This is my dilemma. I'm a great guy with a lot to offer who just can't seem to get back into the dating game.

C'est la vie.

Dear Gallant Sir,

[That is about as creative as I can be at the moment].

Bless your heart.

And I do not mean that in the negative connotation. I truly mean it. Bless your big, tender heart. I feel that if we knew each other in person we would be good friends. Men like you I feel are so incredibly special. Not special in a "special" way or a "sweet spirit" way but in the sense that you are unique and distinguished type of man. A type that I admire greatly.

Do you remember how I address my "Two Year Hiatus" every stinking week? Well no surprises here. I am going to bring it up again. Because guess what? It applies. Once again I have found another person with whom I can relate. Humanity is truly confounding.

The Two Year Hiatus occurred because I was devastated. Well, at least for the first year. The second year was working out of the devastation. I became physically ill. Depressed. Obsessed. I was a wretched human being for a year. I do not know how anyone put up with me. Remember Miss Marianne Dashwood in her dramatic love-sick, depression induced, deathly illness? That was me. I finally realized what that felt like, and now I no longer roll my eyes when Marianne is so dramatic, because I was there once before. Though seemingly silly and preposterous to others, it was very real to me. Marianne and me.

You have felt the same thing my dear Gallant Sir. Choosing to join the human race again is a hard, yet incredibly triumphant decision to make. Welcome back Sir. You deserve this comeback. But make sure it is in fact a comeback. If you are going to come back to the dating world, you have to come back truly ready and willing. You cannot fence sit on the issue. Make this a William Wallace sort of comeback.Yes, it is so much easier to say than it is to do.

Step One: Make yourself known in your ward. You don't need to be eccentric or anything, but make a few good friends. In my opinion [and we all know how valuable my opinion is], a few good friends are ten times more valuable than a murder [such as a murder of crows] of flimsy acquaintances. I know it is easy to get caught up with just school and work, but we all need good social lives for balance. [Another secret: Everyone is a little socially awkward. Some are just better at pretending than others].

All the other steps are almost unnecessary to point out. You can ask your roommates to double with you, or even set you up on dates. You can double with the friends you make, or they can set you up. The possibilities are endless really.

And as a girl, I would rather be asked out by a boy whom I know and have some sort of friendly relationship with, instead of being asked out by some random guy on campus. Because if I have already met you and have conjectured that you really are not some psychopath serial killer or rapist, I would rather go out with you than someone I do not know at all.

So Gallant Sir, welcome back. This won't be easy. In fact, most people you go on dates with, will not be the person that you marry. Dating is a process. Making a comeback is a process. Loving is a process.

If it is worth anything, I have faith in you. This can be the best sort of comeback.

Con Amor,

The Coquette

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Be a man! You must be swift as a coursing river, a great typhoon, or something like that.

10/21/2011 The Lady 11 Comments

This past summer, I had a fetish for blogs. [It's what the cool kids do nowadays]. I made my daily rounds to my favorite sites as though it were an important ritual to accomplish before the end of each day. There was one blog in particular which both tickled and tantalized my teeming, tampering, thinker. [Thinker pronounced as "tinker" in order to get the +5 for alliteration].

The Art of Manliness

The Anti-Austen was my source for dating wisdom and whimsy from my friends [The Romantic, The Charmer, The Bluestocking, etc.], but I continually studied The Art of Manliness in order to more fully understand the finer mechanics of what it takes to be a man, so that I would better know what it is I should be looking for in a "real" manly man.

From The Art of Manliness I learned that manly men run marathons. Not only do they run marathons, but they run marathons barefoot [not with five-fingered flippers for feet {+5}].
Manly men know the proper etiquette of opening doors.
Manly men grow handle-bar mustaches curled at the ends. However, I personally am not a fan of this qualification. From experience I have learned how odd it feels to kiss a mustache, and it is not particularly delightful.
Manly men do their laundry with manly soap.
Manly men are well read in the most manly of classic books.
Manly men know how to coordinate their socks with their attire.
Manly men know how to date women, not merely how to hang out with them.
And most importantly, manly men know how to give a manly handshake.

Etcetera. Etcetera. Etcetera.

The goal of The Art of Manliness is to Revive the lost art of manliness.

Not until I moved to Utah did I realize that I was very nearly completely blind to the fact that there may be a decline in manliness occurring among men. All of a sudden I came across men wearing tighter jeans than I was wearing. I noticed that some men had more product in their hair than I did [and I am a firm believer in product]. In fact today, I was walking behind a boy who's outfit was so similar to my own I felt as though if I cut my hair and flattened my chest, I would have looked the more manly of the pair. [Let it be known that I do not look like a man at all...I don't think...].

The point is, I am tired of wondering who the real men are on campus. It's come to the point where if I see a handsome manly-looking man, I glance at his finger and get automatic adultery points because yes, there is a ring there. Then I will take a glance around to see if I can spot any single manly men. Unfortunately, I am left thinking: A) Either I will be competition for that guy's boyfriend or B) That other guy looks like Justin Bieber and I do not want to marry a sixteen-year-old hipster.

Perhaps I am being too harsh. And perhaps I am so sickened by this sea of skinny jeans that it has turned my brain and I am completely oblivious to the nice, normal looking fellows. And maybe girls don't mind skinny jeans, but I was raised in a place where if your jeans were tight, it was because you were wearing Wranglers and you were about to brand some cows. Forgive my backwoods upbringing, but I am not accustomed to admiring a man's attire because I am considering wearing the same thing tomorrow.

I do want a man who dresses well, in fact I admire that ability, but well does not have to be flashy. There is a definite difference between trendy and sharp. And we all know that women go crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man. I want a man who knows which socks to wear with what, I want a man who knows how to dress up or dress down per occasion, but I also want to be attracted to a man and be certain of his sexual tendencies and maturity.

So my dear men, you may take my post as worth a grain of salt if you choose, and I apologize if I have offended your particular affinity for snug-fitting breeches. But if you agree to be the man, I will agree to be the woman.

Con Amor,
The Coquette

P.S. Please don't overlook Colonel Paisley's post below mine! I have been making lists all afternoon instead of studying for my midterms.

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The SMILES Game

10/20/2011 The Lady 10 Comments

Have you ever had to deal with being interested in more than one person at a time? Of course you have. It happens often enough.

But what about the converse? How often has more than one person been interested in you at the same time? And, dare I say, you have been interested in these people in return?

Now, now, we’re not going to argue semantics and delineate between whether you areinterested in one or more of these persons or if you like them, or vice versa. If any of these people tickle or tantalize your teeming talented tastebuds, [+5 alliteration] and you likewise tickle theirs, well then, I do say you’re in a pickle!

And how do you find yourself a Buckwheat to trade your Porky a nickel for this pickle [or at the very least, two cents]? Well, folks, Colonel Paisley is here to share a somethin’ li’l special!

SMILES.

Yes, that cheesy grin works too, but that’s not what I’m referring to. That’s an acronym I use, consisting of the six characteristics that I find most important in a member of the opposite sex. DISCLAIMER: This is the order I have chosen, in the order that to me is most pertinent. Others’ order may vary. [But mine is clearly the best because it spells a word. Hoo-rah.]

I like to play word and number games, so when I have to decide between which female I desire to pursue, I arrange (on paper, not in person, sheesh) those in whom I am interested and rank them 1-10 according to the six categories, being:

Spirituality. After much deliberation, I realized how important this category is to me. That connection obviously needs to exist anyway, but I discovered how much I crave it. To be on the exact same mental, emotional, physical wavelengths often relies heavily on my spiritual connection with my significant other. And I don’t mean solely with a religious connotation. The spiritual category also measures the compatibility of our goals, desires, dreams, etc.

Maturity. Closely linked to the spirituality factor and immediately behind is the level of maturity. I don’t rank this one on a strict 1-10 per se [“Oh, she’s very diplomatic and professional; she gets a 10. She’s a clown and a child; she gets a 2. . .”], but as how comparable their personality is to mine. I am inherently a goofy person; I like to have fun. But I can definitely hold my own in serious, spiritual, political, economical, and thought-provoking conversation. I need someone who can flex with me among each end of the spectrum.

Intelligence. Hm, how to word this without sounding pretentious or snobby… I can’t date or marry someone who is dumb. I don’t like to judge people, but I inherently do; we all do. I probably flatter myself in saying that I am an intelligent person; I’m definitely inferior to many people, though. Overall, my wife must be smarter than I am. I sincerely hope that. Optimally, I will marry a woman who is smarter than I, but believes I am smarter. Likewise, I will know she is smarter than I, and I will be happy with that. We both stay humble and avoid pride outright. [I can have pride problems sometimes.]

Looks. Call me shallow if you must, but do not deny that you wouldn’t love to marry someone who is the most handsome devil on the earth, or the most beautiful woman in existence, whichever you prefer. There is a different definition of attraction for each person in the world; someone I would find very pretty and intriguing wouldn’t get a second look from another guy. It is a near-indisputable fact that you must be attracted to your spouse in the physical sense in one way or another. How strikingly beautiful/handsome is this person? How attracted to them are you?

Exercise. Okay, I admit, this category is only called this so it forms a word. Sue me. [I thought of using Athleticism, but that spells SMILAS, which is stupid! And definitely not Spanish for smiles.] Anyway. Body shape and size isn’t important to me, but how a woman takes care of herself is. Does she exercise? Does she care about her health?

Sociability. This one comes last because it is least important of the six, but it is still veritably vital (+2). Is she extroverted or introverted? Can she hold her own in social situations, or does she freeze up like a deer in the spotlights on stage at a NRA meeting?

Within this attribute you can also bring up other important factors such as relationships with others. Is she clingy? To you? To her family? Does she drive home to be with her family every weekend simply because she can, and they are close? Does she have to live in Utah for the rest of her life because this is where her parents and grandparents and aunts and uncles and old bishops and old YW presidents and pets live? Figure out if this is important to you at all.

- - - - - - - - - -

And there you have it, my friends, Colonel Paisley’s six incomprehensive traits to figuring out which person of the opposite sex that you want to pursue. They are excellent factors to help decide whom you want to marry someday. They’ve also made me accept the fact that I will probably never find a woman who perfectly meets all the traits that I have heretofore described, and I will be single forever. Just kidding. Maybe.

Oh, and by the way, doing this doesn’t actually help you find the girl that scores the highest so you can pursue her. It doesn’t work, but it sure is fun [and eye-opening] to do. Enjoy!

Pip pip,

Colonel Paisley

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A Cliffhanger

10/18/2011 The Charmer 4 Comments

Oh heavens...my weeks certainly are busy. It's only been a week and I have quite a lot of updates for you. :)

I went into last week with the intention to try and keep Masimo in the picture. After all, he would be a really fun boyfriend. I've known him for a year and a half and so I know him really well. I've seen him in lots of different scenarios, and I don't think that there are any facets of his personality that I haven't seen. I've always thought it would be nice to date someone that is my good friend; I wanted to avoid one of those "we've-known-each-other-for-two-weeks-and-now-we're-dating!" situations. After all, that's what happened with The Ex. And even though our relationship was good for the most part, I hardly knew him when we started dating. I didn't want to do that again.

So, despite the fact that Masimo wasn't following my plans, I wasn't quite ready to drop him. After all, it took me a long time and a lot of thinking to get to the point where I had made the decision that Yes, I wanted to date him!

Anyways, I might as well let you know now that I didn't talk to Masimo last week. In fact, I haven't even seen Masimo since our date that was what...a week and a half ago? I texted him on Thursday just to ask how his week had been. He texted me back the next day. And it was a boring text. Yes, the kid is busy. But if he can find time to pin pictures of ballroom dresses for his partner onto his Pinterest account, he is not too busy to respond to my texts in a timely manner. (If it's not very apparent, Masimo has begun to fade out of the picture.)

In my last post, I mentioned having dinner with Mr. Director on Sunday. What I didn't mention was that he also asked me if I would be willing to go out with him on Saturday. And, despite the fact that I was still fairly set on Masimo, I said yes.

Speaking of dinner, Piano Man continued to try and commandeer all of my time. I went to a concert of his on Tuesday and he told me he'd make me dinner on Friday to "make it up to me." I know, I know, I probably should have said no. But I am not one to turn down a free dinner.

Friday rolls around. I get that text I mentioned from Masimo (Yeah, my week's been super busy...I've hardly seen my roommates. But TGIF!) and I'm planning on dinner with Piano Man that night. Then, in the middle of the day, I get a text from Mr. Director.
Hey, Happy Friday! You probably have plans, and I know I've already got you tomorrow night, but I have an extra ticket to the Grizzlies hockey game tonight because my roommate had something come up. Let me know if you want to go!

Now, at the time, I didn't know that I wouldn't see Masimo at all that weekend. I was still planning on talking with him (or at least that's what I told myself), and I really didn't think it was a great idea to spend two nights in a row with Mr. Director. Frankly, I had decided that I would tell him no.

However, I decided it might be wise to get a second opinion, so at my research meeting that afternoon I spilled the story to one of my fellow research assistants. I asked her what she thought I should do. Since she knew that I had been hoping for success with Masimo (or "Ballroom Boy," as she calls him), I expected that she would tell me to say no to Mr. Director. To my surprise, she told me that I should go to the hockey game. She explained that the best course of action was to keep my options open.

So I went.
Well, first I had dinner with Piano Man, who decided to impress me with his cooking prowess by making Hamburger Helper.
During the course of dinner, he asked me about Mr. Director and if we'd ended up going on a date (remember, MD called while I was at Piano Man's house for dinner two weeks ago). I told him yes. He also asked me if I thought Mr. Director and I might date in the future. I told him I didn't think so.
And right after I'd said it, I realized that this might have been the first lie I'd told to Piano Man. Because I was kind of interested in Mr. Director, and I realized in that moment that I thought there was a chance that the two of us might date.

And then I ditched Piano Man and went to the hockey game with Mr. Director...

...and I am going to leave you all in suspense until next week to find out what happened. This post is long enough already.

Yes, yes, I'm terrible. I know. Now you all have to wait for a week to find out whether the date was a dud or a delight. Did it fizzle or was it fantastic? Am I back to square one with no prospects but Piano Man (and heaven knows that boy doesn't have a chance)?

This is obviously just a ploy to make sure that you continue reading our lovely blog by tuning in next week. :)

Kisses,
The Charmer

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The Sports Fan: an admirer no more...

10/16/2011 The Blue Stocking 15 Comments

People always say “BYU is trying to get us married.”

False: if BYU really wanted that they would cease the excessive flow of tests and papers that teachers see fit to assign.

Personally, midterms has made it difficult for me to find time to sleep let alone date. This week alone I had to turn down three dates for Friday night. THREE

So BYU please give me a break, it’s hard enough trying to find my perfect mate without you stealing away every opportunity I have to get to know a guy.

Speaking of turning down three dates, I have a delightful story for you.

Now before I begin I feel like I must apologize. I realize that a great deal of my posts are dedicated to talking about situations with boys that annoy me. But here’s the thing, if all was fine in Datingland I would be safely traveling down Courtship Road and on my way to Marriage City. Instead my car has broken down on Single Ave and while I wait for my future husband to rescue me, I am bombarded by guys who insist on behaving in a wonky fashion.

Introducing The Sports Fan. At the beginning of the semester my apartment and Sports Fans apartment became fast friends. In fact, we even began attending all the football games together.

Fun right.

It’s especially fun for me because I don’t own a sports pass and The Sports Fan always is able to find me an extra one. Well for some odd reason, it didn’t register in my brain that him giving me free tickets might signify that he likes me. So that basically explains why I was utterly shocked when he asked me out for Friday night.

Unfortunately, I couldn't go because I had to attend something for class.

So I told him exactly why I couldn’t go and I thanked him for asking me. His response was quite brief, but he sounded like everything was fine so I assumed that things were cool between us. He couldn’t blame me for having to do something for my class, right? Wrong.

He told my roommate that I made up a lame excuse to get out of our date. My roommate then assured him that that was not true and I would never do that. After that conversation I naturally figured he couldn’t still be mad at me, right? Wrong.

This weekend in order to punish me for not accepting his date he did the following.
He invited all of my roommates, excluding me, over to watch the football game. You could say, “now wait a second Blue Stocking, that could have been a simple oversight on his part.”

Um..no, no it wasn’t. He specifically told my roommate he wanted everyone but me to come over.

Then at church he made sure he said hi to all of my roommates except me and even refused to make eye contact with me for the whole three hours.

To top it all off, after church he came up to my roommate and me and invited my roommate over for dinner and told her to make sure she invited the other girls in my house…did that include me, certainly not. In fact, even though there was barely a foot between us, he still refused to acknowledge my presence.

Ladies and Gentlemen, he’s five years old.

Maybe I should start a club for him and the other two guys I turned down this weekend.

It can be the “I Hate The Blue Stocking Club.” Then all of them can get together and discuss all of the things they dislike about me and even make up a club handshake. It’ll be a real hoot, maybe I’ll even provide treats.

-The Blue Stocking

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How quick come the reasons for approving what we like.

10/15/2011 The Lady 7 Comments

Dear Anti-Austens,

I've been reading your blog for about 2 weeks now and I really can't get enough of it. I found myself silently screaming "YES." in the computer labs when I saw there was a new post today.
Something about everyone else's drama is just so addicting to read.
Problem is, is that I've stumbled upon my own drama after transferring here from Arizona State University. (Best decision of my life, might I add. Go Cougs.)

My story is as follows:

Flash back to the first week of school. My roommate and I were creepin' out my bedroom window, (I can't believe how normal it is to creep at BYU. Alas, I've turned into the window-peeker-outer I thought I'd never be...) and then Roommate declares, "There he is!"
"There who is?" I reply, folding my clothes and making my way to the window.
"Ward Hottie!"
I look out the window and what do I see? No, not popcorn, it was Ward Hottie (pseudonym) walking down the street with a rollie suitcase.
"What's so great about him?" I ask.
"He's cute and so nice. Every girl in the ward is in love with him. He knows it, too, but somehow he isn't conceited about it."
From my perch, I couldn't see anything EXTRAORDINARY about him. Well-dressed. Blond hair. Decent height. That would put him in the 34th percentile of all BYU males.
And from that moment I decided I wasn't going to fall for him. I hate being like everyone else; it's so prideful, I know, but I LOVE, no, CRAVE individuality. So if liking him made me just as stupid as all the other flirtsy, cutesy, dingbat girls in my ward, then I wanted to stay away from that guy as much as possible.
My resolve became even deeper one day as I was lying out on my grass reading C.S. Lewis'The Problem of Pain. Four girls were out on their lawn, chatting about nothing and then suddenly I heard his name.
Girl 1: "Blah blah blah, I don't like Ward Hottie. I'm going for his roommate."
Girl 2: "Good! That makes one less girl I have to go through to get to him!!"
They all laughed their giggly laughs and I wanted to puke. I mean, really? What was so amazing about him that girls now were forming metaphorical lines, and gauging their chances with him by how many girls stood in front of them in said line? What the heck? This ward, I thought, is ridiculous.

Fast forward a bit, to ward prayer. I'm standing there, outside an apartment, waiting for it to begin, when all of a sudden there is a manly presence standing next to me.
Ward Hottie. Great. I started to throw out some of my conversational pieces.
"Hey! How ya doin'? On a scale from 1 to GREAT, how great has your day been today?"
And then he surprised me with a real, true-to-life answer that hardly ANYONE ever gives when you ask them how they're doing.
"Hmm, Can I give you two answers?"
Intrigued, I nodded my head.
"8-4PM today was a 2. I had to catch a million flights to get back here and that wasn't fun at all. Then, from 4- now, I'd give it about an eight."
I then asked him the details of the "2" score he'd given his day, turns out he was coming back from a Man-cation with his dad and uncles. It was fun,he said, and he was about to show me a picture when we were interrupted by one of his roommates. But before W.H. turned away, I caught a glimpse of a stadium, full of people in red. I knew that football team.
Later that night, I realized I wanted to finish my conversation with him. I found my feet walking me toward his apartment, I heard my mouth talk to his roommate, I felt the roommate push me inside the house, my feet carried me over to W.H. and sat me down in a chair that W.H. had motioned for me to occupy.
At this time, my brain was a bit panicky. "What are you doing? This is going to be so awkward. He's trying to study! Get out of here! WORRY WORRY WORRY~"
And then I shut my amygdala off and started talking to him.
"Hey man, I saw the picture of the football game on your phone, did you get to go to that game?"
And then he and I geeked out over football.
And then he and I geeked out over facebook and traveling and funny friends and school.
And then I went home.

Flash forward to a week later, Friday night, I am sitting on my doorstep talking to my mom. I see W.H. walking down the street. I see W.H. see me. I see W.H. veer toward me.
"Mom. I gotta go." Click.
"Hey, what's up?" I say nonchalantly.
"OK, " he begins, "I have a proposition for you. I know this might sound weird, and you can shut it down if you don't want to go, I don't really even want to..." He rambles on for a little bit before I re-rail him onto his train of thought.
"Oh, well, do you want to drive with me and my friend to Salt Lake? I have to drop him off there and would like some company for the ride home."
Brain: "UMWHATOFCOURSEI'LLGOWITHYOU, WAITAMINUTE,WHATAMIDOING???!!!"
Mouth: "Yeah! Sounds fun. I was just gonna watch some Anne Frank movie on Netflix anyway."

So we go. The friend is awesome and hilarious. We stop at Wal Mart to get a few things, W.H. says, "OK, we definitely need some snacks."
We walk around the store. He remembers that my favorite candy is Peanut M&M's and not the Peanut Butter ones. He asks if I like cookie dough. I do. So he buys a tube of it.
We're driving, he asks if we can listen to my iPod (wow. most everyone always chooses their own iPod) we listen to music and I realize he and I are the same type of music-listeners: we sing and dance along and love to mimic the voices of the singers.
Forward some more, friend is dropped off, we are headed back. I ask if we can listen to his music, he pulls up a song and I say "HEY. This song always reminds me of this..." and I sing some muddled bars of this song I don't really know the words to.
"YOU MEAN DAYLIGHT BY MATT AND KIM!??!?" he exclaims.
He grabs the iPod and finds the song that I didn't even sing that well, I'm surprised because NO ONE seems to know that song. We jam. And we laugh. And we try to understand the lyrics.
Cool down: We are stuck in traffic. Leads to a conversation about pet peeves. Leads to conversations about a lot of things; namely our identities and how we define ourselves with clothing.
Turns out he likes shoes.
Turns out he's really easy to talk to.
Turns out he's way tight with his family.
Turns out that was just enough conversation to know he's capable of thinking deeper than the average bear (man).

He drops me off and it was 2 AM by the time we get home.

Fast forward some more. (I promise this story gets to the present sometime) The next Tuesday. I get a call from a random number. Pick it up. It's W.H. He invites me. On a date. To the REAL SALT LAKE soccer game the next day. NO!!! NOOOO!!!
And I was mentally screaming NOOOO, not because I didn't want to, but because I couldn't. I had already been asked out for the next night by someone I BARELY EVEN KNEW AND NOOOOOO I JUST WANTED TO GO WITH HIM AHHHHHH.
I told him I had already been asked out and I was so sorry and he said, "Ok, yeah, no problem. We'll have to do it another time."
It was then that I realized I had started to baby fall for him. Not like head-over-heels, but like a baby-sized misstep on a staircase, just enough to send your heart fluttering in your chest.
I felt mildly peeved at myself for letting him do this to me, but at the same time, I really didn't mind at all.

Now, we are at the present. Since that unfortunate evening, he and his friend came over for Sunday dinner once. He says hi to me. But nothing much other than that.
Another boy kinda popped into my life, (HE HAS AN ENGLISH ACCENT, WHAT?!?! *attractive...*) but I've realized I can't really communicate with English Boy. And that is so important to me in a relationship. I just need to know he's a real, live, human being. W.H. and I connected there, we were both silly, laughing, football-loving, thoughtful humans together. I miss that.
I promised myself I'd start letting boys chase me, instead of being so available all the time, but I don't know if it's too against my morals to go out on a limb and contact him again. He's been a ghost around the ward, kind of quiet, not showing up to many things, I think he's busy. Or worse, *has a girlfriend...* But should I seek him out? Should I try to prod his brain and remind him that I REALLY ACTUALLY DO WANT TO GO ON A DATE WITH HIM?
I feel like if I take that route, I'll start to appear just like all the other girls in the ward. All the other girls he's not interested in. And heaven forbid I start to become like everyone else...

What do you think, Austens? Do I wait? Do I text him? Do I doom myself to a life of perpetual creeping through my window? (Not my first choice.)
I want to seem hard to get in a VERY accessible manner. I really just want to get to know him.

Please share your thoughts, and thank you for existing in this anonymous internet blog,

The (shamefully) Not-So-Original Lover

Dear Miss Not-So-Original,

A wise man (aka C.S. Lewis) once said, "...no man (or woman) who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it."

I think that I get just as much enjoyment out of reading the emails that filter into our inbox than you must from reading our blog. And this one in particular is a treasure. Please forgive me for posting twice in one week in response to these emails. I promise that I don't think that I have all the answers, and I don't just pretend to be able to relate to all these emails either. I actually can relate to them. It's probably the same reason you read this blog, because you can relate to us as well. We are all human after all.

I had my own troubles with my own Ward Hottie. (My originality is bust, so I can't even begin to think of a suitable pseudonym for him). He was the sort of boy I had chosen to dislike (hate being much too strong of a word), and I enjoyed that feeling. Disliking the boy that every girl loved. After one whole year of focusing all my animosity in his direction, I discovered--to my absolute dismay--that he was in fact a decent human being. I began to even "baby fall" for him (using your own term). I was even rebuked several times for spending some much energy on my personal vendetta. It is indeed an interesting phenomenon.

However, my personal problems are not the point. Let's talk about you. I know that I said in my last post that if a boy likes you he will pursue you. Scratch that. Well, not completely. Honestly, here is my real secret to dating: There are no rules. It is not a game to be played. Every case is different. Enough said.

It is obvious that Ward Hottie was captivated by you. You were one that stood out to him. Why? You did something about it. Your feet carried you to his apartment (Brilliant and daring!), unlike the other girls who are creeper loving on him and can do nothing but wait for him to notice him. You made yourself be noticed. Something that most girls are not willing to do. So here is what you do: You make yourself be noticed again. But beware that there is a fine line between letting yourself be noticed and overbearance. As the scriptures say: Use boldness, but not overbearance. (That is in the scriptures right?)

You do not need to pop over to his apartment and say, "Remember that you time you asked me out and I said no? Well I actually do want to go out with you!" In my opinion, that's a little too desperate, and if your goal is subtlety, do not use this route. Believe me, I've tried this one. Major flop. Just make it a point to talk to him when you see him. Don't be one of the needy girls in the ward who are giving him creeping looks over their shoulders (who actually wish they were you!). Like my dear friend The Colonel and his newly dubbed friend, Featherstone, commented on my last post: Be somewhere between subtle and obvious. You do not have to completely ignore a guy to play hard to get. I've tried that one too. It doesn't work.

In summary: Be bold! But not too forward. Talk to him like you are the normal human being I believe you to be. Be genuine.

I like this. I like where this is going. You don't have to be the girl creeping out the window. He's obviously been captivated by you once, just remind him of that. Save creeping for special occasions.