Cursed

3/25/2013 The Blue Stocking 6 Comments

I’m cursed. That’s right, cursed.

I’ve joked about this fact for a while, but now I’m positive and have named the curse after myself.

The Bluestocking Curse:

The uncanny ability to prevent marriage for all singles within patient's range including the patient themselves. Once patient is removed, all singles once affected by their bubble of singledom are released into a life of love and marriage.

Now you’re probably all thinking “you’re at BYU! People are bound to get married; such is our life.”

Wrong.

People who I hang out with me on a day to day basis do not wed. I repeat. DO NOT WED. As soon as I leave the slid-show of their life BAM the wooing and winning of hearts begins. Let me lay down the facts to you get a real good picture of what I’ve been dealing with.

I lived in the same place for two full years and no one, NO ONE, in my complex got married. We joked about being cursed. Then one of us made it out, found a guy, and was engaged within a month.

We breathed a sigh of relief.

The curse wasn’t personal! It applied only to our complex. We continued to watch as former roommates moved out and quickly found mates. It was eerie, but I think we all drew comfort from the fact our condition was situational.

So we gladly bore, what we felt like was, our brief singledom knowing that one day we too would join our married roommates. When I moved out last December I thought, neigh I knew, I would follow the path of those who walked before me.

..yeah, it’s not going so well, but guess how many of my old roommates have gotten engaged since I left?

THREE!

Here's a more disturbing stat:

In the past month, four guys I’ve liked or who have professed love for me have gotten engaged. FOUR.

Mazel tov

This number does not include Bingley and Wickham who are both probably ring shopping at this very moment for the serious girlfriends they attached themselves to as soon as I was out of the picture. Ok probably not this exact moment. It’s actually really late. I should probably get to bed. Anyways, back to my point.

What the devil is going on? I have come to the hard conclusion that these marriages have nothing to do with anything but me. I would lay down more stats, but things take a turn for the paranoid the more I get into this…

So there you have it folks. I’m cursed.

-The Bluestocking

P.S. I've already come up with a plan to use this in my favor. I will simply attach myself to all my favorite people and then they'll never leave me mwahahahahahahah...this just got creepy didn't it? Nevermind, I take it back. I'll get a dog or something...

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Seductive Salesmanship

3/24/2013 The Lady 3 Comments

I'm just a girl who can't say no. I am a people pleaser. This little trait got me into a pickle last night at the mall. My roommates, Emma and Charlotte, and I were meandering towards Victoria's Secret (for those wonderful lotions) when a sample of moisturizer was thrust into my face by a man at one of those vendor kiosks (the ones that everyone avoids like the plague). Emma made to grab at my arm and muttered something about avoiding eye contact (she's all too aware of my people-pleasing tendencies), but it was much too late to save me. I had been accosted by a pair of lovely blue-green eyes perfectly set in a swarthy face. A sultry accent lured me over to a cart, where my arm was massaged with luxuriant exfoliants and lotions made from the minerals of the Dead Sea.

All the while, this Casanova stood a mere three inches from my person, staring unashamedly into my eyes as he gently caressed my skin and tempted me to buy his lotion with sickly sweet flattery. "I am from Israel, the Holy Land," he crooned. In my minds eye, I was reclining on a chaise longue in a magnificently billowing dress while he fed me grapes and massaged my arms and hands with his exotic wares. "My name is (insert un-pronounceable name). It means 'spring', I am the spring." He sure was. Then he asked if I had a husband or a boyfriend, and acted completely flabbergasted by my negative answer. "I cannot believe that! You are so beautiful!" he exclaimed. I giggled like a school girl (oh, the shame of it) and stated that he was just trying to get me to buy his products. "I would never!" he was shocked. "I really like you and think you are beautiful." It took all my will power not to start making out with him.

Unfortunately--or rather, fortunately--I came back to reality and was able to turn down they very attractive offer of his discounted lotion. Feeling a little light-headed, I rejoined Emma and Charlotte who mocked me mercilessly for my shameless flirting. Shameless though it may have been, I feel that I have filled my flirting quota for the remainder of the year. *le sigh*

Con Amor,

The Lady

P.S. Would it be too obsessive to wander that direction

in the mall everyday?

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The Blind Dating the Blind

3/19/2013 The Romantic 2 Comments

Here are some reasons why I'm probably never getting married:

-sometimes I eat tortillas for dinner, and ONLY tortillas

-my face still turns bright red whenever I talk to a cute boy

-i added a Women Studies minor this semester, which hasn't really changed my opinions all that much...i'm just much more vocal about things than i used to be... i think it really freaks boys out

-Hanger (anger due to hunger) has increasingly played a larger role in my interactions with people... that's not good in general, let alone with the opposite sex

I could go on and on with this list. Suffice it to say, my dating life is going no where fast these days. I tried to set up a little movie night with some guys in my ward. I agonized for at least five minutes writing a facebook message to The Roommate. Two days later, no response. And we had just talked about hanging out on Sunday... But whatever, I'm not taking it personal (just in case you didn't get it, this is me taking it personal).

There was a time in my life when I went on multiple dates in a day. But in the year I've been home from my mission, I've been on two. TWO. Twooooo! Two dates in an entire year.

That's pathetic.

As if I wasn't already bordering the territories of panic and desperation, I now have to deal with my family's concern for my social welfare. My cousin has been trying to set me up for months. The boy she's been trying to set me up with finally called last week.

He sounded petrified to be calling me. And also about 12 years old. Am I that scary?

I'm actually totally cool with blind dates, and they're normally pretty fun. But someone please just set me up with a MAN that's not afraid to take charge and just take a woman out for a good time. (Here is where the other half of my split personality is yelling, "PREACH IT SISTER!")

But, because of the whole two dates thing, I can't be one to turn up my nose when offer is made. However, I had to turn the poor fellow down last weekend because of a birthday party on Friday night, and then I have previous engagements every Saturday night until I graduate in a very lovely place where everyone wears white clothes (read, I got called to be a temple worker).

So I guess there's not really time for me to be dating anyway. It would be nice just to be asked once in a while though.

The Blind Boy is supposed to call again this week to set something up. Buuuut my mother is coming into town. So that pretty much rules out the whole weekend.... my bad. Maybe the blind can date the blind sometime soon.

But what about you readers? What do you think of blind dates?

xoxo
-the Romantic

ps. speaking of blind, this is the korean drama i'm vicariously living through right now. it's about a blind girl that thinks her estranged brother has come back to find her. the guy is really a con man trying to get the blind girl's money. and then they start falling in love... if you can get past the weird freudian undertones, it's pretty good.

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Dream Dating

3/12/2013 The Lady 1 Comments

Once ward prayer had ended (two weeks ago), I gathered my courage about me (as one might gather up her skirts) and strategically placed myself in such a position as to easily catch The Boy Next Door in a casual conversation. And if you can believe it, it actually worked. The Boy Next Door and I chatted for a good half hour about movies and books and all such wonderful things. Then a miracle happened: he leaned close towards me (ward prayer is such a noisy affair) and asked me out. Huzzah!

On Friday night (clad in my most attractive outfit), The Boy Next Door and I went to the Museum of Art (which just so happens to be my favorite date activity) and I knew everything was meant to be. My only regret was that I hadn't talked to him months before.

Then things took an unfortunate turn. While at the museum, The Boy Next Door--in an attempt to show off his prowess regarding art--had me follow him about the exhibit as he explained how he felt about every.single.piece. For two hours, I heard nothing but brush strokes and "seeing" the painting. I considered ramming myself into a wall on countless occasions.

The door step scene could not come soon enough. Except there wasn't one. The Boy Next Door just sort of dropped me off at my door and said "See you later" as he walked towards his apartment. I had just enough time to let the embarrassment and audacity of it all sink in before I woke up.

That's right. The date with The Boy Next Door was all a dream I had a week ago. But to me it wasn't just a dream. I have had several dreams like this, and somehow after I have them I know that a certain guy isn't for me and I can easily move on. I don't really know how to properly explain it. Revelation? Vision?

For example:

A couple years ago, I was infatuated with a certain military man--whom I have named The Sergeant--who happened to seem to feel just as similarly infatuated with yours truly. Everything seemed to be going just swimmingly until I had the dream. In the dream The Sergeant kept trying to hold my hand and every time he tried, it was just a mess of fingers (due to the fact that I had grown an extra finger). Then The Sergeant would try to kiss me and either my nieces or nephews would burst into the room or my mom would. When I woke up I knew that things would never work with The Sergeant, we weren't a good fit and things would just never come to be. And I was right. Shortly thereafter, The Sergeant pulled a Frank Churchill and married Miss Fairfax.

The Sergeant is just one example my vicarious dream dating, but I have yet to have one of these dreams without them revealing to me something that I needed to know. So yes, I am one of those weirdos who believes in dreams.

The dream I had about The Boy Next Door had a remarkable effect. The next time I saw him, I saw things I had been a little blind to during my infatuation: he wears moccasins to church (not classy) and kind of has a lazy eye . . . These things aren't exactly deal breakers, but it's nice to be free from any sort of crush once again.

Dream dating may not be ideal, but it certainly works for me.

Con Amor,

The Lady

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How to Talk to Girls

3/11/2013 The Blue Stocking 3 Comments

I was going to give you my usual week update, but it is being interrupted by this little guy. He clearly knows his stuff and if I’m still single in 10 years (very likely) I will be looking him up. And yes the best choice is a regular girl.

-The Bluestocking

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Speed Dating: The Follow-up

3/04/2013 The Blue Stocking 2 Comments

So you’re probably all wondering, “how did the date with you and the Smith’s guy go?” (let’s just call him Smith). Well, it didn’t happen.

In fact, not only did he not take me out, but now he is avoiding eye contact with me at church. What the devil? He asked me out. It’s not like I grabbed his phone, put my digits in, and proceeded to follow him about campus with binoculars (I only do that with guys that look like Ryan Gosling).

Situations like these always take me back Halloween 2011:

There I was, in the middle of the dance floor doing ma thang. Then he came in. A 6’4 lumberjack. Our eyes met across the dancing bodies and we found our way to each other. The next 30 minutes were spent discussing our hopes and dreams for the future. Then our clasped hands were ripped apart as his friends stole him away. I watched as he walked from me and just as his body was about to disappear into the crowed, he turned around and looked at me. He whispered something into his friends ear (I’m only guessing, but it was probably along the lines of “I can’t leave her” or “she’s the one”). And just as quickly as he had left, he was standing in front of me asking for my number.

Ok, fine, the actual encounter probably went along the lines of:

I was at a Halloween party freezing in the almost November air. As I made my way out of the hectic scene I ran into him. A 6’0 boy in plaid. We tried talking, but it quickly turned into a screaming match as we strained to be heard over the crazed crowd. After about 5 minutes his friends came and whispered something in his ear. He said goodbye and started his journey through the mass of bodies. Halfway through he turned around and asked for my number.

Guess what both versions have in common? HE NEVER CALLED.

Boggles my mind. Why do guys go to all the trouble of getting our number and asking us out and then never taking us anywhere. That would be like me going to Smiths, buying a carton of ice cream, and NEVER EATING IT.

Madness.

So Smittie never took me out. I’m pretty sure he’s under the impression of being the ward hottie *snort*. Ahh who am I to break that delusion. Hopefully we can find a way to not be totally awkward around each other.

Also, guess who I ran into at Costa Vida? Gem aka the green-eyed-man. There I was just getting some soda when I heard someone behind me say "Hey didn't we go on a date last week." I turned around to face those intimidating eyes. I say with great pride I was able to play it cool as we briefly chatted about our "date."