Saturday, July 7, 2012

Hakuna Matata?

Welp. Remember how I bumped into the boy from three hours away? In a bar neither of us ever go to? In a city where neither of us lives? And remember how I WAS NOT going to go down the "maybe this means something" path? And I was going to stand my ground and be realistic because he owns a business three hours away in the middle of nowhere, and I love my job and my city, so this can't go anywhere? Yeahhhh ...so I didn't actually do the whole "being realistic" thing. Instead, I think I have a boyfriendishness person (I think that's what grownups call it).

I blame Disney. My entire childhood was spent watching ridiculous love stories between mermaids and princes, beasts and beautiful book nerds, street rats and princesses, two lions for God's sake. I mean, talk about relationships that shouldn't work. But they live happily ever after. In a castle, most likely. Sounds fantastic to me.

It's a fairly well-known fact that I love a good story. Any situation becomes better if there's a good story as to how you found yourself there. Coincidence, intuition, fate, deja vu, karma...these are a few of my favorite things. So, when a boy you liked six years ago, whom you've had multiple missed connections with, comes up to you in an extremely random place and says "Ally May?"; you take notice. When you realize he has the same ridiculously random, sometimes awful, music appreciation; you take notice. Same over-the-top love of dogs? Notice. Same hippyish/somewhat snotty/pretty chill/sometimes uptight/doesn't make sense at all personality? Notice. And when you finally realize he's absolutely hysterical, you give up trying to fight it and just go with it. And all this, on top of a great six-year story.... I know what you're thinking. I didn't stand a chance. Silly girl.

So, a big thank you to the Wonderful World of Disney, because you have turned me into a very dumb girl, who believes in fairy tales, and now has a boyfriendishness person, and is completely ignoring geography.

Another big thank you to this guy, because you were absolutely used as bribery in getting this little long distance thing sparked up again.



Sunday, June 10, 2012

+1

*Note: +1 has more than one meaning in my little circle of friends, which could really provide content for an entirely different entry, but for the purposes of this post, let's focus in on the traditional +1; "Please come to my party and bring a human of the opposite sex with whom you can enjoy a meal, some drinks, and whatever steps you still remember from the Electric Slide".

As a single lady, I am forever rather annoyed by the fact that I get wedding invites without dates. Before I offend my married friends, I do understand the logic behind it. I know what it costs per plate, and the battles You and Mr. You have had over the guest list, and that negotiating my +1 (whom you probably don't know) into the seating chart is the least of your problems. I totally understand that it's altogether easier to have us single girls just travel together, as a pseudo couple. Which is why I said I am only rather annoyed. Buuut for those of you going forward, who have a little extra in the budge, it would be nice to bring a date. Because sometimes it gets awkward to be the three girls at the wedding, dancing with their purses in the middle.

So, you can imagine my elation when wedding invitations arrived in the mail yesterday for Roombud Bestie and me, and guest. Like, we each get to bring one. As in, we're not each others' guest. Wahoo! Then I started to over think things. . . Who to bring? A potential love interest? (Let's just assume, for the sake of the blog, there is one right now) That's a lot of pressure. I really can't visualize any situation where bringing a not-quite BF to meet friends and family wouldn't cause more anxiety than enjoyment. Okay, so definitely bringing a friend. Which leads to a different set of potential concerns.  I have already successfully set up my semi-normal male friends with my semi-normal female ones - quite selflessly it seems, because now I am wedding dateless (goddamn my excellent match-making skills) - which leaves me with my remaining man-child friends. I'm not sure I've officially mentioned this, but the majority of my male friends, ie the single ones, are umm INSANE. Borderline not appropriate around adults, despite their ages creeping closer to the big 3-0. So, this is the pool of candidates I have to choose from to dress up fancy, stay quiet during the ceremony, and make enough of a good impression in front of the grownups that they forgive him when he's ripping shots, taking over the dance floor, and convincing the waiters that yes, he did order three plates of steak.

Luckily RB has the same quality candidates to choose from, so looks like there will at least be four of us single kids, proving to everyone else that yes, single is still fun at 27, so thank you very much for the four hours of free alcohol. One day we will repay the favor. And with any luck, by then the boys we choose to marry will be slightly more appropriate to bring around adults.

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Wahhh

Okay, I know I said I'm totally against whiney blog posts, but I am going to have a mini little bitch sesh, then quickly follow it up with something that makes me very happy. So hopefully the blog karma Gods will forgive me this little transgression...

Why why why do I always always always like boys that live far away? Without fail. I'm not even saying I'm falling in love with them. But definite like. And for me, falling in like is still pretty hard to come by. Three of the last four boys I actually liked lived three hours away, and the fourth was an hour away so that's not much better. Is this subconscious? Is it me? Do I have an undying desire to complicate my life?

There is a source for this rant. I bumped into one of these someones from three hours away this weekend. BUMPED INTO. And he lives in New York. And this bumping occurred in a bar I haven't been to in three years. In a city he hasn't been to in five. Makes sense right? Fairytale Ally May went directly to the "maybe this means something" mindset, putting me right back where I started a year ago - In like with him, doomed to at some point come to terms with the fact that it doesn't stand a chance. Because I'm not moving. He's not moving. And I don't even know how much like is there since we've technically gone on three dates in six years. Oh and now he has a puppy. Which always makes a cute boy cuter. F.M.L.wahhhhh. grrrrrr.

Now that that's out of my system, and because I'm just so damned happy with myself and want to end with a smile, I present you with this: my little family basement find and now newly rebeautified desk.

Friday, May 18, 2012

I Held a Baby Today

I know I know. What's the big deal? The big deal is that they TERRIFY me. So breakable. Not sure what to do with them. Would generally prefer to avoid them. It's pretty common knowledge that if given the option between a baby and a puppy I'd choose the puppy 10 times out of 10.

Let me take a hot minute to defend myself for anyone that now thinks I'm an evil baby-hater. I will someday have babies because I LOVE children. Love love love, have to restrain myself from squeezing adorable children on the street, love. But babies? What do you do with them? I don't get it, never have. I've always assumed somewhere around age two is when the fun starts, and I'll just have to get through the baby stages with my own children. BUT today a seven month old made an appearance at work and I jumped right up to grab her and wasn't scared AT ALL. And I was very scared of her when she stopped by shortly after her birth. So, in summary, my future children stand a chance. Perhaps not a light bulb moment to the rest of the world, but to me these are some seriously big steps. In the words of Mick Bestie, "Good Job. Maybe by the time you have your own you'll be okay with a brandy new one!"


(Just a little unrelated baby humor for ya)

Saturday, May 12, 2012

When Did This Happen?

So I went on my date, which is so not worthy of an entire blog entry, but to sum up, my previous post about my dating behavior was once again, pretty dead on. I was a nervous wreck up to and during most of the date, despite the fact that I knew almost instantly I wasn't interested. This potentially just proves that I'm crazy, because I truly did not find the experience enjoyable and would have easily escaped after five minutes with him, could I have figured out how to do it politely.  That being said, I still think it's "good for me" (famous last words) so I'm going to keep trying and just cross my fingers that my dating attitude and skills improve. If nothing else, it's providing entertaining stories for my friends and I am certainly learning what I don't want.

Okay, now onto the most interesting little nugget I learned during this date...apparently girls these days are SUPER aggressive. He told me girls approach him, buy him drinks, and even ask him out... umm WHAT?! Normally I would seriously question that the pretentious dork I was sharing a drink with gets that much female attention, but this sentiment has been mirrored by too many male friends to ignore it. My mind is officially blown. More importantly, I am officially screwed. As the girl standing in the corner of the bar, waiting for nice, tall, cute, funny boys to flock to me, I clearly don't stand a chance. When did this even happen?  Are guys really okay with this cultural shift? From what I'm hearing, apparently they are. They even like it. I guess I should be proud of my fellow ladies, for not giving a shit and just taking the initiative to go after what (who) they want, but I can't help but find it a little disappointing. I like to be "chased", I like to know when someone is interested and see them putting in the work to show me that. Go figure, I'm high maintenance.

The compromise. In the interest of full disclosure, I'm fully aware that I'm the other extreme and it has been said that I'm borderline inapproachable. Roombud Bestie recently shared the following article with me, 10 Ways to Get Men to Approach You, which I'm sure was meant as mere entertainment, rather than a not-so subtle recommendation (Right Roombud Bestie??). I then shared this article with my friend Chase. Chase is one of my biggest critics when it comes to my lackadaisical approach to the opposite sex and instantly began identifying the things I would "never" do from this list. His attack was fair I suppose. I generally head out with at least three other people, leaving little opportunity for strangers to interject, and since I have been asked multiple times why I look "miserable" in bars, I guess I could work on the eye contact and adding a few more smiles into my repertoire. While I know for a fact that I will never be the type of girl elbowing my way in to spark up conversation with a boy, I suppose this is just another glaring opportunity for me to TRY. And by TRY, I mean try to put off starting my cat collection just a little longer.

So with all that said, I suppose I should start making myself stunningly beautiful so I can find a park where I can wait for boys to make eye contact with, shoot megawatt smiles at, and ask if I can pet their cute dogs. Instead of that, because it's my birthday, I'm going to finish making my 15,000 jello shots, create the best dance music playlist ever, slip on my highest heels and shortest skirt, and party my ass off with 40 of my closest friends. Tonight I am going to scream unapproachable. I guess I'll do the park thing another day.

Sunday, May 6, 2012

I Think We Should Probably Date More

As I was driving through the North End today with two of my besties, we passed a restaurant I recognized and I said "I went on a date there". This was followed by me trying to recall who I went on said date with, with Roombud Bestie reminding me "You went there with Reed." This was quickly followed by  Blonde Bestie's sarcastic comment, "Because you go on so many dates, it's hard to keep track". She quickly followed this with the statement "I think we should probably date more." As the two of us combined could probably count our "first dates" on one hand; I fear she is correct. This revelation, in partnership with today's viewing of the new RomCom "Five-Year Engagement" (highly recommended BTW), was enough to cause some slight Sunday Scaries and inspire a little self-evaluation.

I'm just gonna say it. I hate dating. The whole situation causes me anxiety. A little glimpse into my date preparation process:

Is he going to ask me out? I hope he asks me out. Shit he asked me out. Now I have to go out with him. Where are we going? What do I wear? What if I don't like him? I hope he's cute since I last saw him in college / this is a blind date and I'm basing this primarily on Facebook pictures / I met him at a dark bar where I was most likely on cocktail #3 and not in a position to select ideal future mates. Speaking of cocktails, I should make one while I get ready, just to take the edge off. Now I'm running late because the perfect outfit I planned is actually atrocious on and I had to change six times, pausing between wardrobe changes to sip wine, which in retrospect may not have been the best idea since I didn't eat all day in order to look my skinniest for the evening ahead. Fuckkkkkkkkk.

I haven't left my apartment and I've already given myself a headache, a stomach ache, a slight buzz, and turned my bedroom into a war zone. How to escape from the date if it's truly awful is a whole other bag of issues we haven't even explored yet.

Under normal circumstances, the obvious answer is to just avoid the things you hate. Peanut butter, scary movies, Dave Matthews Band...all things I regularly avoid with relative ease. But, given the fact that I do actually want to meet my Mr. Right someday (preferably in the near future), steering clear of dates doesn't appear to be a viable option. So with that said (and after years of trying to kick and scream my way out of this), I'm going to TRY. It's occurred to me that many of my friends actually love dates and I seem to be missing something here. Let's be honest, free food, a new restaurant, and something to do mid-week are all things that normally make this girl very happy. Add in the opportunity to be amused and potentially play the name game with someone new - maybe it's worth giving this crazy ritual another shot. Here's hoping, because I think I have a date next week and I can already feel the apprehension building....

Monday, April 30, 2012

I Wanna Talk About Me!


Okay, that’s not 100% true, but I thought this lyric, borrowed from my boy Toby, was fitting for my first ever blog entry. That, and it keeps with my cool country lyric theme I’ve got going on and I love a good theme. So enough about that…onto me!

I’m from a small town in the smallest state, lil Rhodey, and I moved to Boston about a year ago. And ohhh if the transition were only as simple as that made it sound. Said transition was about four years in the making, with two jobs and three moves in between, before I finally found myself happily residing in South Boston with my roombud bestie. So here I am, 26-year-old girl, single in the city, with little to show for myself other than some pretty bomb friends, a kickass job, and a crazy family. I’ll take it. 

Refocusing. Rather than just chatting it up about me, this blog is aimed more at being a (hopefully) amusing compilation of everyday observations and experiences that add spice to my otherwise uneventful life (with a few moments borrowed from friends’ lives trickled in). I’ll try to avoid bitchy rants, because I’m a pretty big believer in karma but if I do fall into the bitchy rant trap, I’ll do my darndest to put an entertaining spin on it. So that being said….I’m not completely sure who my audience is here, but whomever you are, I hope these little snippets can bring at least half as much amusement to you as they probably brought to me. Happy reading!