Of Sitting, Waiting, Wishing


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I’d love to be with you, but you don’t know that.

Or maybe you do, but you aren’t willing to talk about us.

So I sit.

I sit cause making a move is dangerous.

I sit cause I’m waiting for you to acknowledge or deny me.

I sit cause I’m a wimp.

I sit cause the timing is never right.

I sit cause I am a bystander in my own life.

You’ll never be mine. We could be a disaster. Hell, we could be great.

But we’ll never know.


I guess it’s time for me to stand up.

Of BFF’s

Lainie wearing a balloon hat

My roomie – rocking the first balloon hat I ever made.

Lainie is my roommate, bestie, and fellow dancer. We met as extra follows when we were part of a swing dance performance team. She made me mac-n-cheese. I made fun of her tiny excuse of a living room. And we’ve been friends ever since.

Lainie greatly enjoys trying to make me do things that I really should do, and I want to do, but require effort. Things like: start a vlog, stretch, make a choice for dinner, or write a blog post.

Which is why when she sarcastically stated, “You should write about me!”

I said, “Fine.”

You’re welcome Lainie, it’s officially time for your long overdue spotlight:

I’ve never met someone so determined to stay in a cozy corner of denial. Course, I understand, making effort sucks. It’s scary and undesirable – I too, avoid it as often as I can, especially in the romantic realm.

For Lainie knows as well as I – there is little more horrifying than confessing your feelings to someone who does not return them. That leads to awkward encounters, tears, and hours of bitching out your friends who pushed you in that direction in the first place. Denial is best, even if at times it’s a wee bit lonely.

Though I feel it’s important to stress her absolute hypocrisy. She has a tendency to call me out on my shit, quite often. Rather than being a polite friend who will let me sit in my preferred bubble of denial. It’s dreadfully annoying. So of course, I return the favor and call her out whenever necessary.

But still, I let her hang around.

For despite the fact that she throws pillows at me, lightly hits anyone who says something dumb or offensive, is convinced that billowy shirts make her skinny ass look fat, and watches that awful Once Upon a Time show. She’s still the first person I go to when I have a problem, am confused about life, or want cookies made.

After all, what more could you want in a best friend, than someone who makes a killer soup, is willing to watch Gilmore Girls for hours, and also finds puppets hilarious.

Plus, we have a pact: “Roomies till partners!”

So I couldn’t get rid of her even if I wanted to.

Of Awkward Ex Encounters

Ex Couple

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Okay, so we all have ex’s. Or at least, most of us do.

  • With some, the relationship ended amicably and you remain close buds.
  • With others, the end was so dramatic that seeing their face still brings extreme sadness to your soul.
  • With a select few, there’s no emotional pull at all. Being around them is akin to standing in a room of strangers. Just this stranger, you happen to have been intimate with momentarily.
  • With most, one of you is more hurt than the other, more attached, more likely to sit there and pine over the thought of, “What if?” A very dangerous question, mind you.

Everyone has ex stories, and I would love to hear all of them. Seriously, post them in the comment section, I will read each and every tale of lost love. I don’t care if you wish to share a story from when you were together or after you parted – I just love a good story, Hell, I even love a bad story on occasion.

Here, I’ll go first:

Recently the only man I’ve ever dated contacted me. And I think it’s important to clarify that we broke up over two years ago. That we were not a happy couple. Also, that I can’t remember the last time we had a conversation.

Anyways …

The situation was the sort of predicament that everyone wants to avoid – a former lover declaring that they miss them and want them back. And then, to inform you that they can’t afford to eat because they call out of work in efforts to avoid you.

Seriously? Don’t blame me for your hunger. 

Little is more uncomfortable than having someone you’d rather not talk with, cry about you over the phone.

But I was very polite, making grand statements like, “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do to make you feel better.”

Then I got a handful of text messages. Granted it’s not seventy messages in two days like a different situation of mine (but that’s a whole different story – if you want to hear it, please let me know).

The first basically said, “What if I stop picking my fingernails?” – Huh? I don’t remember that being a problem.

The second asked me to think about what I’d done. Said, “It was nice to hear your voice the way that I remember it,” and urged me to take a couple of days to get back to him with why we can’t be together – Yeah, I’m not gonna do that. I think it’s VERY VERY obvious why I don’t want to date you again.

And the last accused me of rudely texting him in Spanish – I don’t even know Spanish. 

So there’s my most recent story. While my current dating life is quite stale, so much so that it’s borderline pathetic. It seems my past wanted to stir up the unwanted drama in my life.

Which is just … annoying.

Okay, now would you be so kind as to tell me a story?

Of Movie Crowds

Comic about Disney and Porn

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For three years I’ve worked at a movie theater. In that time I’ve come to recognize particular crowds (meaning that I can usually tell what movie you’re going to watch before you walk up to my till). All I have to do is look at how you’re dressed and who you’re with – I usually guess right.

Of course not everyone conforms to fit a particular movie group, but most do.

There’s the horror crowd: typically teenagers or groups of bros. These people tend to be loud and boisterous. Or they reek of marijuana.

There’s the romantic (comedy) crowd: this crowd almost always comes in pairs. Boys and girls on dates. Or single (probably lonely) girls looking to lose themselves in a life more romantic than theirs.

There’s the comedy crowd: this one’s the most diverse and thus the hardest to predict. These people come in waves and show up almost exactly fifteen minutes before their movie starts (all at the same time).

There’s the fan-club crowd: this changes depending on the fan-base. For example, Twilight, The Hunger Games, Watchmen, The Avengers, Nicholas Sparks Books. These people have read the book and they are beyond psyched for the film release.

But there’s a new crowd that I’d never seen before – the lustful crowd. With the start of male stripper movie Magic Mike, aka Coyote Ugly with penises or The Full Monty with young people. Women walk up to me with hungry eyes and give me this look of ecstasy. As if I’m supposed to share in their glee and desire to stare at men strip and dance. Yeah, I don’t care, sorry. Then they giggle towards their theater.

Normally when checking theaters, to make sure everything’s working smoothly, I see faces or shock, joy, sadness, fear, disinterest, boredom, and so on. With Magic Mike I saw what I can only describe as extreme horniness. Like these women chose to come to this movie so that they could go to a strip club without the demeaning activity of actually going to one.

I haven’t seen the film yet, but from what I’ve seen – these boys are not afraid to be trashy.

Magic Mike GIF

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Of the Meaning Behind “Call Me Maybe” by Carly Rae Jepsen

The song, Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen, is currently a massive hit. Turn on any pop radio station, and within thirty minutes odds are you’ll hear it. Go to any night club, and at some point during the night the DJ will work the tune into the mix. Go on a road trip with me, and I guarantee you I’ll play the song because it’s damn catchy. If by some miracle you’ve yet to hear Call Me Maybe I put the music video below, it’s kind of adorable, just saying.

The songs popularity or the fact that I walked around downtown Bellingham with my friends belting this song at the top of my lungs last Sunday night is not my point. Seriously folks, this song is hella deep. So now, an in-depth look at Call Me Maybe:

“I threw a wish in the well, don’t ask me I’ll never tell,” okay, noted, I will not ask you what you’re wish was Carly. I can respect that.

“I looked to you as it fell, and now your in my way,” what this tells me is that Carly was trying to make her wish, that it was important pertaining to her future, maybe her career or grandparents health was dependent on it. I don’t know, I promised I wouldn’t ask. But this guy was in her way, forcing her to sidestep the purpose of why she was at this magical well.

“I trade my soul for a wish,” that’s just a bad idea.

“Pennies and dimes for a kiss,” come on, surely your kiss must be worth at least a dollar!

“I wasn’t looking for this,” people do always say that love finds you when you’re not looking for it.

“But now you’re in my way,” again with the in her way, clearly she needs to take a step back and figure out how to get passed this male obstacle that just showed up in her life.

“Your stare was holdin’, ripped jeans, skin was showin’, hot night, wind was blowin’, where you think you’re going baby?” Here she finally says why this guy has such a hold on her, but from what I gather it’s all quite superficial, there’s absolutely nothing about his personality mentioned. Plus he tries to walk away, meaning, he either understood that he was in her way, as she mentioned twice already, or he simply is not interested. Maybe he’s taken, she’s not his type, or he’s gay, regardless he tried to walk away. Red flag Carly, red flag.

And now for the chorus, she starts to get repetitive here:
“Hey I just met you, and this is crazy, but here’s my number, so call me, maybe?” This isn’t so bad, how are you supposed to get to know someone without sharing contact information.
“It’s hard to look right at you baby, but here’s my number, so call me , maybe?” Apparently he’s so pretty he’s blinding her. I also think it’s a little soon to call some baby when you’re just now giving them your phone number. Even if this is the second attempt at sharing digits.
“… And all the other boys try to chase me, but here’s my number, so call me, maybe?” This just seem shady, bragging about how everybody wants you is not the way to win a guy over. And seriously, you only have to ask them to call you once, multiple inquiries is not going to help your cause.

“You took your time with the call, I took no time with the fall, you gave me nothing at all, but still you’re in my way,” it seems quite obvious to me that he’s not interested. Perhaps he’s just playing hard to get but that seems unlikely, he’s showing you no attention. The key word here is still, he’s still in your way. This implies that some time has passed by, enough time to make his presence blocking her switch terms from now to still. What we don’t know is how long has it been: a day? a week? a year?

“I beg and borrow and steal,” woah woah woah! Carly, now you sound crazy. No wonder he’s not paying you any attention, he’s terrified of your and your stealing antics. My guess is that you borrow without asking and that your begging is profoundly annoying.

“At first sight and it’s real, I didn’t know I would feel it, but it’s in my way,” now I’m a little confused, is she talking about the first sight of him or of the stuff that she’s stealing? And what is it exactly? She doesn’t seem to want to clarify.

So now she repeats what she likes about this guy, nothing changed he’s still pretty and trying to walk away. At this point she’s delusional in her endeavors. He doesn’t seem to care about her, and I don’t blame him, she straight up admitted to stealing. Then she uses the chorus to once again try to give him her number. He’s not calling you! He doesn’t want to call you! He doesn’t want your number! Take a hint, right now you’re inches away from a restraining order.

“Before you came into my life I missed you so bad, I missed you so bad I missed you so, so, bad … and you should know that. So call me, maybe?” You can’t miss something you never had. However, that day at the well, when he was in her way, she realized that maybe her wish wasn’t exactly what she wanted. She wanted the pretty boy, that’s fine, love is supposed to sneak up on you (that’s half the fun). But she never progressed beyond that. When he didn’t show interest she didn’t return to the well, walk around her obstacle, and toss her coin in. An action that might have granted her wish that may have stopped her from turning into a begging, stealing, crazy lady that chased a boy who wasn’t interested instead of following her goals.

Message of the story: yes, he may be cute, but if he’s in your way he’s not worth the effort. He’s going to drive you to a point where you’re not your best self and honestly you’ll probably lose all your friends who get fed up with your childish ways. You have to find somebody who will work with you and support you instead of block you. Someone who has more than just physical beauty. Someone who doesn’t need you to give them your phone number over and over again. Someone who actually wants to call you. Aka, someone who wants you.

See? I told you this was a deep song. So … call me, maybe?

Of Homosexuality and Media

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Lately I’ve been watching more gay/lesbian media than I usually do, and I’ve stumbled upon a semi-annoying discovery. In both movies and TV it’s a lot easier to find gay (likable) men than women. The token gay best friend is always a guy. There’s a crazy difference in the amount of movies about gay men versus gay women – when looking at titles it’s like a sea of gays with the occasional lesbian thrown in for kicks. In said movies, they typically function like the hetero couples, just a bit more flamboyant. An easy tangent would be to talk about the clear stereotype for how a gay man functions in society, but I think we all know what that would be. For instance: shopping, superficiality, hair with frosted tips, and “Hey girl , heeeeyy.” Even so, the media seems to be far more comfortable with the idea of two men than two ladies – unless they are behaving as a sex symbol.

Lesbians are portrayed as either super butch, anti-men feminists, or high maintenance lipsticks. This is not to say that butch lesbians aren’t walking about or that women are always easy to be around, but they get placed on an extreme binary scale. When I do find the rare lesbian movie that sounds interesting, the woman almost always ends up with a guy in the end. And if by some miracle she doesn’t, she still messed around with one. Of course, clearly if she sees a penis she’s going to stick around – at least in the media. This is not to say that these aren’t good movies, The Kids Are Alright is wonderful, I own it, but it does fall into that mindset of needs a man. The films that don’t have the switching teams factor are typically low-budget indies with acting that’s either superb or painfully bad, there’s no middle ground. I’m sick of watching these romantic or dramatic movies just to have the couple you’re rooting for suddenly break up and retreat into a hetero normative world. I want to cheer on a lesbian couple and have them stick it out with that Hollywood romantic comedy happily ever after ending.  Straight couples and gay men get that all the time, it’s the ladies turn.

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Of the Prince Charming Epidemic

James Marsden in Enchanted

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Lyric’s come into being because someone felt, remembered, or dreamt something. As I’ve gotten older it these songs start to bare weight. I’m not saying that they make me nostalgic or that they remind me of better days. None of that sappiness. What’s irritating me is that I have one, count it one, person to link all the love songs to. Well, I dated a little in high school. But those relationships were far from meaningful. I don’t count those.

So … yeah … one.

By no means does this thought make me want him back and by no means do these memories make me sad. What it does is make me want a new, um … “special someone”… so to speak.

I’m officially over the single thing. Problem is – I’m a bad dater. I don’t notice when men flirt with me (unless they set off my creeper radar). My friends (and mom) tell me, “he was totally hitting on you” and I reply, “I had no idea.” I’m terrible at letting my feeling be known, even to myself. I lie to my brain thinking “Nooooo not him, I don’t like him.” Of course once it’s past the point of opportunity that’s when I realize “Huh, yep definitely liked him. Damn.” Then there’s my extreme independence. I do like being on my own. I’ve never been boy crazy – still not boy crazy (I don’t understand hyperventilating because a semi-attractive human being with a penis walked in the room). And regardless of horniness, I respect myself to much to sleep with a stranger or someone I am not interested in dating. That behavior just doesn’t mesh with my personality. If I were to suddenly be boy crazy and started sleeping around. My friends would worry. Though if that’s you’re personality power to ya, as long as your safe (condoms and such).

Thus I don’t actively pursue romance. Rather I wait and hope it comes floating by, glittering in the sky. And I’ll see the something shiny (all girls love shiny things) and grab it.

When I was younger my list of things required for a potential mate was crazy long. The shallowness of a Christian youth. Now that I’m older and “he has to love Jesus” isn’t on my list I really only care about four things: handsome, taller than me, funny, and willing to go Blues and Swing Dancing with me. End of list. I don’t think it’s impossible. I’ve met versions of him. Of course, he’s always taken but it does provide hope for us ladies. Settling is never an option.

Purpose of this rant: I’d like to have more than one human being to link songs to. I’d also like to stop day dreaming about the impossible.

Face it ladies. Prince Charming doesn’t exist. Fuck you Disney!

Things don’t turn out like romantic comedies.

And I have no idea why so many of you love Pride and Prejudice, personally I can’t finish the book (I’ve tried three times, never got past page 50). But I did watch the four-hour movie with Colin Firth and frankly Mr. Darcy doesn’t exist either. Why would you want him to? I’m sick of this “he’s so romantic and such a gentlemen” bullshit. Okay let us review: he thought he was better than the Bennet’s, he was cold and rude, convinced his friend to dump Elizabeth’s sister, made a rash proposal insulting Elizabeth in the process, but girls love him … I guess because he paid their families way out of ruin? I don’t know. P&P fans out there feel free to defend your precious Jane Austen. Just know that I will never agree with you. One of my dearest friend’s has a Jane Austen action figure complete with desk and quill – even she has never convinced me that Jane Austen is amazing.

Yep, definitely ready for a new romantic phase in my life. Not Prince Charming. Not necessarily Mr. Right.

Just Mr. Right Now.