Showing posts with label The Virgin. Show all posts

A Response

So the internet is being weird and this comment isn't showing up.

Lame.

But, this was too cute so we had to share it with you guys.


B^4 left this comment on "The Perfect Moment: A Guest Post From the Shy Guy":

"We know her, and she saw this!!! Check out her response:

http://thebubblys.blogspot.com/2011/03/perfect-respone-guest-post-from-not-so.html

p.s. we love you guys!"

We love you guys too! Seriously, the comments and responses that we get from you make this blog worth while.

Ciao bellas,
The Anti-Austens
The Virgin
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Well This Is Awkward

I have never broken up with anyone, so this is going to be a little weird...

I suppose I should start with it's not you it's me.

And maybe I met someone else, but I'm pretty definitely sure that you're not supposed to tell someone that when you're breaking up with them. But I have met someone else, and we're engaged, so... I just don't think this is going to work out. I mean you're all about being single and rehashing awkward dates. And now I have to be all about posting pictures of sad attempts to decorate married housing and cookies that I made for hubby. Total conflict of interests. I suppose we just outgrew each other. Which happens. I shouldn't drag this on any longer...


Ta ta lovelies. It's been a lot of fun/therapeutic sharing my experiences with you.

xoxo
The Virgin

I can't believe I just broke up with a blog.
The Virgin
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Wake Up, This is the Real World Calling

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
The Virgin
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Recent Development

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
The Virgin
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Sacrifices

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
The Virgin
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Sometimes You Date Your Best Friend

And you couldn't be happier.

xoxo
V
The Virgin
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Date My Single Kid

I don't know exactly what it is, but there is something that happens when Zoobie girls reach a certain age.

Suddenly everyone is ready for you to get married and they comment on it all the time.

"So are you dating anyone?" they ask coyly, as if I would keep it a secret...
"No," I reply gruffly.
"Is there anyone you want to date?" (This usually is included with some sort of elbow nudge or a wink.)
"No."
"You know what? I should set you up with so and so. He's so cute. He's friends with my son/nephew/weird cousin. Would you like that?"
"Sure," I say already planning the escape for this blind date.

And eventually your mother picks up on this and starts badgering you as well.

Suddenly it becomes apparent that she had other goals for you than just graduating.

Heaven forbid I graduate without a secondary Mrs. degree. Not all of us double major, you know...

The Virgin
The Virgin
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Coming Home

For those of us not staying in Provo during the summer, home can be an awkward place.

The YSA ward consists of two groups where I'm from: the locals, who are nearing thirty, balding, and claiming that their parents' mother in law unit is in fact their "own place", and of course the bug boys, who are flighty, over sexed, and machismo.

(And never mind the boys from my home stake, that's like peeing in the pool, not to mention it feels extremely incestuous.)


And you ask why I choose to go to the family ward and skip out on Sunday school to play with the babies in the foyer?


Kisses,

The Virgin
The Virgin
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A Symphony of Sound

LB made me a CD for driving home and the long plane ride abroad.

What am I gonna do with this boy?

xoxo
The Virgin
The Virgin
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Finals Week Dilemmas

I met Library Boy in the library. (So original, right?) But not officially. He helped me find books for a paper last year. Occasionally I would see him and think about how cute he looked in his little A's hat. But that was it.

Then came last Wednesday. I met him at a BBQ. Saturday he asked me to hang out... Seriously some of the best conversations I've had with a boy in a really long time.

So what happens when you really hit it off with someone and you're leaving in three days, leaving the country in eight days, and the lad graduates this summer?

The Virgin
The Virgin
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Memories Light the Corners of My Mind

As a wee senior in high school I vividly remember my expectations of BYU.

They were high.

Whenever I told anyone that I was going to BYU, they always told me that I was going to date so much when I was there. I honestly thought I was going to have to whack boys off with a stick and I wouldn't be able to handle all of them. My dear seminary teacher overheard me talking about this with The Coquette, and she told us that that wasn't necessarily the case. I brushed away her comments. I was certain that I was going to be a dating machine.

But guess who was right...

Until this past semester (which has been the strangest anomaly), I could literally count the dates I had been on at BYU on one hand.

There are some girls, like The Heartbreaker, who just walk in the light. They get asked out all the time, and heaven knows they need the sticks. And then there are the rest of us, who just get invited to mass hangouts and the occasional date with that guy in your Bio 100 lab that gives you those creepy looks. And we all say yes because that is the polite, nice thing to do.

So... to the incoming freshman, BYU is not like your parents remember. Dating has seemingly gone out of style like the card catalog at the HBLL. (Wow. I just aged myself 15 years...)

Loves,
V
The Virgin
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I'm Not That Pessimistic

Sometimes there are good dates.

In this vast pool, sometimes you pick the good fish.

Good, simple dates sometimes aren't that fun to talk about. You girls know it. There's no drama. We live off drama.

The date with the Super RM was a good date. I knew him. He knew me. We'd hung out a few times. He wasn't creepy when he asked me. It wasn't a big production, because it doesn't have to be.

We went to Borders. We got hot chocolate. We talked, and I helped him look for a book to help him with his new job.

Short and sweet. Perfect first date.

He was sweet and fun, and he didn't try anything or try too hard. I don't ask for much. All I want is for you to listen to me when I talk. Look me in the eyes. Bring something to the table. I'm not going to put in the effort if you're not.

The Virgin
The Virgin
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You Could Be a Model for Puppy Chow

I met Bandanna Boy at concert for a local band. I was interested in his friend, not him. So when I went up to talk to the kid I assumed that the friend would come up and join our conversation just as he had at Muse. I was mistaken. After a gracious compliment about my dimples, Bandanna Boy asked for my number. "Why not?" I thought. The kid was nice, and maybe something could happen, but only if he took off that ridiculous bandanna that made him look more like an Australian shepherd than a Mr. Willoughby. We exchanged digits and that was the end of the night.

He called me a week later (and asked if I remembered him... Um... I got your number too, so yeah, I remember you. This is Provo for goodness sakes, I wasn't inebriated.) A date was set up for later the next week.

As far as dates go it wasn't horrid, but I wasn't interested in going out with this kid again. Here's why:
1. Fido bandanna tied securely around his neck. It reminds me of that creepy story you would tell as a kid about the girl with the ribbon around her neck.
2. Felt some need to impress me constantly. Please do not brag about the $8,000  water purifier your parents installed in your home. If there is anything Austen readers adore and swoon over it is a modest man.
3. I could not get a word in with this kid. Sometimes I like to talk too, and I may actually have something worthwhile to contribute to the conversation.
4. Don't ask me how much I weigh. Seriously. Your mother would be ashamed.

Experiences like this make me wonder what goes in the heads of the male sex that would lead us to think this is appealing.
Kisses,
The Virgin
The Virgin
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As Per Request

I had my own plans for the evening. I was going to see Sherlock Holmes with my roommate and her cousin, The Super RM. However, the film did not start until later that night and I was left to myself, alone in the apartment. Rather than work on my papers and pretend to be thoroughly interested in the basketball game. I decided to have a little fun and text Mr. Suds. After typical texting banter, he inquired after my plans for the evening. I informed him of my "very exciting" dollar theater plans. To which he replied that perhaps we could do something "fun" after. I had an idea of what that meant...

The movie ended up being a quote unquote date. The Man Hater opted out and wrote her paper instead. I was thus able to enjoy a somewhat awkward cuddle sesh with the SRM, who has been home for a mere three weeks.

Upon rushing home, I saw SRM to his car and ran up to my apartment. After a quick consultation with the girls, I sent Mr. Suds a text telling him I was home. He asked if I would like to come over. Psh yeah. A skype date/fashion show ensued with the Heart Breaker and the Coquette. With not a minute to spare Mr. Suds was there to pick me up.

He and I spooned on the couch while watching a movie. It ended and we stayed there for a bit. Somehow we ended up on the Lovesack. The next few seconds are a complete blur, he grabbed my face and started kissing me. I was thrown into the deep end. No amount of mental preparation could have helped me. Somehow I had to figure out a way to fumble my way through a make out. After moments of awkwardness, I was finally was able to hold my own as well as one could in my situation. It was a mere 20 minutes, but being the stickler I am for bedtimes, I adamantly told him that I should probably go home.

He dropped me off and there were excited phone calls and texts with emotions similar to that of a birth of a child.

And I did receive the obligatory text the day afterward....

Ciao lovelies,
The Virgin
The Virgin
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An Addendum Is Now Needed

After an awkward beginning, the Virgin is virgin lipped no more.

Yes, after years of horrible persecution by my well meaning friends, I have finally locked lips in my third year of college.

All in all, I'd say it went pretty well, but being a classy woman after Austen's own taste, that is the only detail I'm going to give...

- The Virgin
The Virgin
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Bad Dates Start Early

So. This date is from high school. And while this exposé is dedicated to dating at BYU, I will say that this is by far my worst date, even when compared to all of the crummy ones that I have had in all my years attending university.

Let us start at the beginning, shall we?

Mr. Can O Cheese Whiz developed a little crush on me on a stake youth activity. When senior year started, the fates put us in a class together. He parked his toosh in the desk right next to mine. Over the course of the year, he kept pestering me to go out with him. I never flat out denied him, but I was not going to arrange the dreaded thing. Finally, he asked me for reals in the spring. To his surprise I insisted we double with mutual friends. To my surprise, he was surprised that I would suggest such a thing. I also insisted that we see Pride rather than this kiddy movie he wanted to see.

Flash forward to that Friday. He picks me and everyone else up. We get to the movie theater and and stand around for five minutes in the cold waiting for him to walk and go get tickets. "This is ridiculous," I think, and walk up towards the counter. Boy H buys tickets for my friend H, then it's Can O Cheese Whiz's turn. He buys one ticket. So then I get mine, ever grateful that I brought my wallet. Burgers for dinner. Once again... I paid for myself. When we walk into the theater who happens to be there but my kid sister and my best friend. Perfect. We sat directly below them.

The movie ended. Thus proceeded the awkward drive home. I had this terrible looming image in my head of him attempting to kiss me at my front door with my mom and sisters peering through the window as I shove him off me. I was quickly awakened from this nightmare. We were nearing my street. He stops in front of my house. "Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh..." "Well I had fun tonight," he says. "Me too? See you Monday." I hop out of the car. My mind is reeling as I walk up to the door. Wait... This is it? You didn't walk me to my door and you didn't even put the car in park?

Perhaps even more than the date, I dreaded the next Monday when we had class. "Hey Miss. V." "Hey." (I attempt to become thoroughly interested in my notes, but I'm thwarted by his persistence in talking to me.) "I'm really sorry about Friday." "Oh, it's okay. It's really not a big deal," I reply. "I'd like to make it up to you, would you like to-". No way. No way. Let's recap the "date" shall we? I paid for my movie and I paid for my burger. I do believe the correct term is a glorified hang out. So no, you will not "make it up to me". You had your chance, bucko. But of course I didn't say those things, instead I replied in a very quiet, awkward tone. "Oh no, don't worry about it." And then my rotund English teacher waddled to the front of the room and began lecture.

Much love and a red face,
The Virgin
The Virgin
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A Week of Bad Dates

We've all had that date that makes us want to groan.

Perhaps it started out well and ended badly, or perhaps you knew right from the start it was going to be a disaster.

Either way blush with us as we recount our worst date stories (thus far...).
The Virgin
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