Tag Archives: relationships

The Guy Who Didn’t Know When to Stop

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We set out for the most hipster-infested bar we’ve found in our little college town last night. It’s on the downtown square and sits above a rather nasty hole-in-the-wall bar where grunge music pours out of the door every time it’s opened. Anyway, head upstairs and you find the hipster cave. And we sat around waiting for our people to arrive. My dear friend, Mr. H, whom I’ve known forever–we seriously can’t remember a time we haven’t known each other–came out, which was great because I haven’t seen him in forever. Our nutty Rose joined us, as did our roommate Master I (that’s an “i”, not a Roman numeral).

File:Liquor Shots.jpg at cruise.jpg

Mr. H needed relationship advice and just needed to generally get out of the house and away from his research. Rose shared with us a handwritten note she’d received from a friend (who writes and mails notes anymore? It was cute!), and Master I and I played a swift game of chess–because the hipster den was just the sort of place to have chess sets on tables randomly scattered about.

Anyway, we met people and played games, as is customary when MW2 and I hit the town, and we met a guy we’ll call Keith. So, Keith seems alright and eventually he and Master I got to chatting, but we decided around midnight that it was time to move on. Mr. H had to go home and go to bed as he had to be a grown up the next morning, and we were just pretty bored with the waning crowd.

So, off we go to The H. The H is our favorite hangout: they don’t card us at the door, we know all the cocktail waitresses, and they tend to give us the –ahem–stronger drinks. Well, guess who shows up? Keith. And his group of misfits.

And he starts hitting on one of our friends. So much so that I’m embarrassed for Keith’s wife. MW2 and I had to tell him “No” every time he asked to switch seats with us to get closer to our friend–who is married and very uninterested in any sort of advances from Keith. And when I say every time, I mean the dude tried it five or six times over the course of like an hour. I’ve seen this kind of thing before in Dating Land, but never in such an overtly pushy way, and never by a man whose wife was sitting right next to him as he hit on another married woman. He kept telling our friend how lucky her husband is, and he kept wanting to set up times to meet again. And every single time, the answer was the same: No.

People, seriously, when a group of friends continually stiff-arms you when it comes to their friend, take the hint and know when to stop!

But You Didn’t Have to Cut Me Off

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Why do we feel the need to burn bridges? Why is it so hard to keep a relationship going after a fall-out–and I mean any relationship: romantic or otherwise?

So here’s the deal: my first husband and I are great friends (the same cannot be said of my middle husband). First Husband and I have a kiddo–Her Royal Pinkness, the Minty Ninja, Ems, whatever I feel like calling her today. It behooves us (Do you like that? Behooves?). Anyway, it behooves us to be–at very least–civil with one another. We are lucky enough, in fact, to be one of the other’s best friends.

My darling MW2 thinks First Husband is great; the two chat about everything under the sun. Seriously, I can barely get a word in edgewise sometimes (NOT that I’m complaining–I can’t hate that my bf gets along well with a man who will be in my life at least until la petite is 18). We’ve met First Husband’s very sweet and beautiful soon-to-be second wife. In fact, the four of us ended up inadvertently offending a nearby table when we all met up for lunch. So really, that’s a win.

But when I talk to people and mention the good standing that First Husband and I find ourselves on, they can’t seem to be able to grasp that the two of us–make that four of us–can get along so well. I mean, I realize that being good friends with an ex is really difficult sometimes, and trust me: there were times when First Husband and I wanted to kill each other (metaphorically, of course). But it doesn’t have to always be that way.

The same applies for friends who may have gone by the wayside. I’ll admit that I’ve had less success with regaining friendships. Perhaps the fact that First Husband and I have the little fairy to contend with motivated us to mend those fences–I fully realize how lucky I am to be able to count him among my friends and not just somebody that I used to be married to.

Anyway, I’ve lost friends and there’s something that either holds me or the other person back from reconnecting. I can cite reasons specific to each situation for why those tears are still there, but is there something underlying?

Think about it: these are people we cared about enough to allow them to be close enough to hurt us as much as they did. Is that why we have to cut them off? Because it hurts too much to be reminded of what could have been? Is it pride? Is it immaturity? I don’t know. I put it to you, dear Internets. What do you think?

Venturing into Geekdom

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Well, clearly, this blog has nothing to do with dating. I never share dating experiences here, and of course I would never even dream of writing a book on dating…

Oh.

Wait.

I have that backwards, don’t I? ::snickers sarcastically::

Well, this certainly isn’t a horror story by any means, but I just have to share this dating story with you because I think it’s funny. And it’s funny because I am the one to be laughed at here, and we all know how I like to laugh at myself.

You know that time in a relationship when you’re finding out all of the lovely things about the other person (and I’m being totally serious and not sarcastic here)? You know, the times when you reveal that you hate peanut butter, and that they used to be lifeguard in high school?

Yes of course you know what I mean.

Well, one such relationship discovery for me has recently been a trip into Geekdom that I never thought I’d take. I’m a bit of a geek myself, mind you, but I geek out over different things than the boyfriend. I make Star Wars and Star Trek jokes; will argue over who the best captain of the Enterprise (whatever manifestation it happens to be in) was.

Yes, I know they're dressed like the Beatles. No, this isn't a mistake.

I’m into Steampunk stuff; have read the Twilight books more times than I care to admit; I’ve seen all of the Lord of the Rings movies (a few times each), and I’d sooner sit down to watch a documentary on the History Channel than catch up on the latest 30 minute sitcom (unless it’s The Big Bang Theory, of course. That’s completely different.)

I’ve studied anime and manga in the undergrad degree, and I’m fairly familiar with geekery thanks to some awesome bloggers out there (thank you, Jen from Cake Wrecks and EPBOT). I like Chuck Wendig’s books because they’re a little dark and off the beaten path; I used to watch Buffy, and I can totally kill opponents in Trivial Pursuit. But I’ve only ever had a basic working knowledge of geeky interests, apparently, and you’ll see in a moment how I figured this out.

While spending time with my bf this weekend, I went into my very first comic store. Yes, I know. You’re either laughing at me for being deprived of such an experience for so long, or you’re laughing at me in disbelief over this phenomenon – or you’re just laughing at me because that’s what you do – depending upon your point of view in the matter. Regardless, my point is this: I felt like I was WAY out of my element. I mean, sure I know who Batman and Superman are. I have a bit of knowledge about the Green Lantern. I’ve seen the Ironman and Spiderman movies. But, WOW! I had pretty much no idea what I was looking at half of the time, or if I did, it was because I’ve only vaguely been exposed to it.

I was totally lost. It was funny. There was this white abominable snowman looking thingy, and these life-sized cutouts of people I’ve never even seen before. Random lunchbox-type paraphernalia, but ooh! ooh! some cute little Darth Vader stuff. I seem to have recognized a villain from Captain America on the cover of one of the comic books. But, other than that, it was like I’d entered a foreign land.

It’s just never been my scene, but to each their own, right?

So I’m learning about all kinds of geekery lately: Cthulhu, Dr. Who (though I’m still fuzzy on what a T.A.R.D.I.S. is and exactly how many doctors there have been [and are they all the same character played by different actors, or different actors playing different doctors, or what?]), RPGs, Munchkin card games (which was really very silly and fun), and various other geeky things. And I’m happy to learn it, if only to get on the inside of some of the jokes.

Segue: This was actually pretty funny – I made a joke this weekend about something *I* totally geek out on (Sheldon Cooper, et al.) and my bf had no clue what I was referencing but the rest of the crew in the car totally got it. So, it appears that I’ve got some things to expose him to as well.

Regardless, I’m sure there are several of you out there who jump into finding out what your love really loves, and sometimes you find out that it’s something totally foreign to you – like comics and various other concepts o’ geekery are for me. I don’t know that I’ll be embracing all of the Lovecraftian silliness and the new (to me) comic genre, but you never know.

The bigger picture here is that I went to the comic store with him. I don’t have to go, but I wanted to. This is what being in a relationship is about: you support each other. Did I know what half of the things I was looking at were? Nope. Did he walk directly to specific shelves because he knew exactly what he was looking for? You betcha. Did I feel left out when our group of friends, who went with us, dispersed to find their own comic-esque goods? Not in the slightest; it’s a comic store. I found plenty to keep my interest.

Best part: he knows comics and such aren’t my thing, but he appreciates my openness and my acceptance of his fandom regardless. I mean, he accepts my affinity for contact sports, so it’s only fair. And who knows, maybe one of these days I’ll actually figure out what that blue police box is all about…

One of Life’s (and Love’s) Lessons

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Beyonce is responsible for some of the best girl power lyrics out there in my opinion.  ”Survivor” by Destiny’s Child has always been one of my favorite songs – not because it’s about surviving a break up, but because no matter what, that girl is gonna survive and thrive and be better on the other side.

God (and everyone else) knows that I have reasons for this song to appeal to me after a break up, but I love the chorus because it works for any part of one’s life:

I’m a survivor/I’m not gonna give up/I’m not gonna stop/I’m gonna work harder/I’m a survivor/I’m gonna make it/I will survive/Keep on survivin’.

I love this stream of lyrics.  Yeah.  You’re shocked I’m sure. 

I’ve never been the kinda girl who needs to be taken care of.  I’ll figure out a way through things.  And sure, I’ve had my ups and downs, but I like to be independent, I’m strong, and through a bunch of life’s B.S., I’ve survived (and at times even thrived).  I was chatting with my amazing boyfriend – the other half of MW Squared (yes, he has the same initials – and same last name, incidentally – as me [no, we're not related...we checked]) the other day and we were talking about enduring and overcoming things in life.  The convo had nothing to do with the event that I’ll tell you about in a minute, but it sure as hell was timely. 

I said that I was sure there was some type of crisis that I couldn’t handle, but I haven’t come across it yet.  He looked at me seriously and said, “You will, and when you do, I’ll be there to help you through it.”

It’s barely an exaggeration to say that my heart melted, but that’s beside the point.  This week, I came across the thing that I can’t handle.  Give me a financial crisis - I’ll figure something out.  Give me a relationship crisis – hell I’m writing a freakin’ book about that one.  Give me a tax crisis – I’ll figure out where that loophole is.  You get the point.  While I’m not opposed to being taken care of, in a relationship, I’m used to being the nurturing one and the one who gives everything.  I’m fairly low-maintenance, and I don’t require a man to hover around me and maintain me.

Two days after Christmas, my father went in for quadruple bypass surgery.  I didn’t see him that day because little E had been at the hospital hanging out in the waiting room all day and needed to get out of there.  I finally saw Dad the second day, after lunch.  It goes like this: I walk in and realize that this – seeing my father hooked up to tubes and recovering for having his chest split open and his heart operated on – was too much for me.  My sister-in-law was shocked when I told her how I reacted.  Her eyes got wide and said, “You’ve been the calm one!  I had no idea you’d react that way.”  My answer was, “Tell me about it.”  I’ve been the designated communication person for this whole thing; taking care of logistics, the home front, all that.  I was happy to be driving to the hospital to see my dad and kiss him on the cheek.

But OH MY GOD! I walked into that room and suddenly I’m this chick who just can’t deal with it.  I spent my 45 minute visit talking myself out of a panic attack.  I couldn’t breathe; I became nauseous; I stood there praying that I wouldn’t get sick, pass out, and/or start crying.  I couldn’t get out of there fast enough – I practically ran out of the hospital.  On the way out the door, I shot MW2 a text, asking if I could call him at work.  Being the wonderful boyfriend he is, his answer was “Anytime. Ever.”  I rang him up and said distract me, calm me down, tell me something funny.  I figured out what I can’t deal with.

He went into a mini crisis mode and became very calm on the other end.  He got the details, let me spill my fears, and got me breathing again.  No I didn’t cry (yes, I’m proud of that fact), and then he said to head south towards his office.  He took me to lunch, he held my hand, he made me laugh, and he kissed me. He took care of me. 

I didn’t need to be taken care of; if no one had been there to do so, I would have been fine.  I would have boomed music all the way home and probably driven way too fast.  I would have distracted myself with some new Christmas toy I got, or I would have called a girlfriend to chat about the weather.  But, I got to be taken care of for once and I was smiling again.  I left him at his office and drove away, feeling like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.  I could breathe, I could face whatever else came my way, because he had my back.

Sometimes no matter how strong a ship may be, it’s still got to drop anchor and wait the storm out in a safe harbor because it’s simply better for it to do so.  Sure that ship of the line can take that storm, but coming in for a breather is sometimes the best thing to do.

Through this whole experience, each one of my family members has gained some bit of invaluable knowledge.  For me, it’s been several small little tidbits, but maybe the most valuable of all these lessons is that no matter how much I can survive, it’s okay to look to others for support, and a real, meaningful relationship is about both people supporting and loving each other regardless of how blue or gray the skies above are. 

Oh, and that in a medical crisis, you should probably call somebody else.