Don’t you just love it when someone tells you that “you look tired?” Thanks, I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt until you pointed it out to me. Now I not only feel like ass from being mind-numbingly exhausted, but look like it too. Amazing. I walked into work yesterday and the first thing the security guy said to me was, “you look tired.” So that was a great start to the day. In fact, now that I think about it, I distinctly recall that on my first date with the ex, he proclaimed to me as soon as I sat down, “you look tired.” I probably should have saved myself some time and just ended it right then and there.
I was just doing some facebook stalking when I came across a wonderful status line. It read:
Never struggle to become relevant. You either are or you aren’t.
Such a simple statement, but oh so true. In many respects. It particularly struck me as relevant today, as me and a friend at work were dealing with some of the many kiss-ass overachievers in our office. Everyone wants a piece of the health reform pie, everyone wants to get their foot in the door in order to feel like they are a part of this big change that is about to take place. But unless you have something good to say, please don’t say anything at all. Don’t say something just to hear yourself talk and to get your identity out there. People will respect you for your ideas, but if you have to struggle to make a point, then maybe you shouldn’t be making it.
But really this statement can be applied to many settings. Relationships primarily. Let’s take my ex, for example. For years we tried to make it work, but there was always something holding him back. He always had one foot out the door; he just was never able to fully commit. Finally, after a few years, I started to accept that I could not change what he felt. I had no other choice. Would I continue to hope things would work out with him and try to work things out, when really I had no control over it? I could not make him fall in love with me. He either was or he wasn’t – and he wasn’t. I struggled for years to become relevant in his life (and obviously I was, just not to the level that I wanted to be). I kept thinking that maybe things would change and if I did a certain thing, maybe he would become what I wanted him to be. But, finally I realized that wasn’t going to happen. His feelings for me were not going to miraculously change, despite what I did or what I might have done. He wasn’t going to magically realize overnight that what he wanted (me!) was right in front of him. After years of hoping he would change, I had to let him go.
I’m not sure how I just went off on that tangent, but I think you get my point. Don’t try to be something you aren’t in order to get something you think that you want. Just be yourself. If it is meant to be, whatever “it” might be, then it will happen if it’s meant to happen. I am not suggesting that you shouldn’t work hard to attain the goals that you want to achieve. Quite the opposite. Instead, I don’t believe that you should have to struggle to achieve certain things. Just accept that it wasn’t meant to be and find something that is. It will save you a lot of stress and heartache.
I really love running into people I used to date. This past Friday night, I was out at Liberty Tavern in Clarendon and who did I see? Good ole Rico. If you don’t recall from previous posts, this was the dude who ended things because he said he didn’t want to start something only to end it soon thereafter, since he was picking up and moving to Colombia in August. I’ll just remind you that it’s November and he still seems to be here, unless he has a twin brother I was unaware of. On Friday night we made eye contact and then he hid behind a pole the whole time to avoid me. Good thinking. Because if he was anywhere near me I would have asked him how the hookah bar he was planning to start up in Colombia was going. Was he perhaps just back in DC on a vacation?
Okay I must really have too many ex’s because when I was 28, I decided it was okay to date a 21 year old. Call me what you will, but I must have been off with the ex or something and decided to test out a younger dude. Well I was just out at Busboys and Poets, and who do I see? 21. Yes, this was his nickname. In fact, I just had to dig deep in this bottomless pit I call my memory to remember what his actual name is. I haven’t seen 21 since we called it quits, I guess about three years ago. This is a classic. Long story short, I finally decide its okay to invite him to my place. We are making out on the couch and then he starts kissing my stomach. Cool. However, soon enough I feel a biting pain, literally, where he is kissing. I’m thinking that something is off. Hoping it will soon end, but not comfortable enough with him yet to put an end to it (maybe he thinks older women like biting?), the pain keeps getting worse. Finally, I look down and see that he is gripping the skin from my stomach with his teeth and pulling. WTF? At this point, I finally freak out and decide enough is enough. He was pulling my skin so hard that he drew blood. Seriously? This was 21. I probably would have just said hi to him, but I was actually meeting my ex who happened to be standing about 5 feet away in the book section. Why was I meeting the ex? I have no idea. Half the time I wonder why I do the things I do. Regardless, the ex and I are only friends…after all, it’s been a good couple of years now since we actually dated. Listening to him talk, I am pretty sure I am over him anyway. Just two old pals hanging out, with 21 a few feet away. Oh the irony.
I swear my life is a walking Seinfeld episode. That or I’m Larry David from Curb, but not an ass hole like he is. I don’t even know where to begin with this story, but let’s take it back to this summer when I was at Goody’s one weekend. Goody’s, for those of you who live in a cave, is a pizza/ice cream/sandwich shop in Clarendon that serves late night food for the party crowd and is also open all day. This could be an entirely separate blog post but basically the owners are my parents away from home and are amazing people. That being besides the point, one night over the summer my friend Alex (girl..pen name) and I went to Goody’s late one evening to grab a slice or two after the bar. We take up our usual spot at a table, and somehow or another these two random dudes walk in, and next thing I know, I’m arm wrestling the Asian one. No idea how this even came about, but long story short, I beat him fair and square (not even kidding…we all know I am reigning arm wrestling champ). So the Asian (he asked to be called “Big D” in this blog, which is ironic since I beat him at arm wrestling, but who am I to judge?) and I become friends and the rest is history.
So let’s fast forward to Pete’s bday party a few weekends ago. Everyone and their mother makes an appearance, including all relevant parties in this story: Alex, Big D, and Felipe (who is also Asian…I know, you would have guessed Spanish). Alex had met Big D the night of the arm wrestling match at Goody’s. At the bday party, she approaches Felipe and says “you’re the arm wrestling guy!” and asks if he wants to arm wrestle. So what Alex did, in this insance, was confuse Felipe (an Asian) for Big D (another Asian), even though they look nothing alike. Thanks for the material Alex.
So as I mentioned in an earlier post, the girl the ex dated after me was at the party that night and was texting the ex, who relayed to me that she stated that there was a tall black dude and an Asian at the party. Apparently the ex thinks I have only one Asian and one tall black friend, so named who he thought these two individuals to be based simply on the description that she saw a tall black guy and an Asian. [Blog: tall black guy = Tyrone, Asian = Hung]. This is about how it went down via text: “You were at a birthday party. Tyrone and Hung were there.” Neither of these people were at the party, which I found amusing. So basically, Felipe was mistaken for both Big D and Hung in one night. Good stuff right there.
So Big D just told me last night he was at a club and a black guy walked into the bathroom and mistook him for another Asian guy. This type of thing is happening left and right. Is there a term for this? Are people who make this mistake racist? Or is it simply a stereotype that all Asians and black people look alike? I happened to look this up, and one article termed it “stereotypical homogenization.” Deep. Doing this research, I came across something stating that there is actually an Office episode called “All Asians Look Alike.” I feel honored knowing that I am blogging about the same topic as an episode of The Office; not only that, but we came up with the same exact title. Adding producing to the career option list.
So I’m out at Marvin Friday night, and I run into my ex. Wonderful. I haven’t seen him in a couple of months, which would be no big deal except that everytime I run into him, I feel that I’m starting all over again in terms of getting over him. This is not really good news for me now that I’m starting to get back out on the dating scene. Like, did he know that I’m starting to date so fate has us run into each other? Am I not meant to ever settle down? Probably. Which brings us to Saturday night. We’re out at Pete’s surprise bday party (which was awesome btw!!!), and I get a text from the ex saying that the girl who he dated after me was sitting at the table right next to us the whole time. Why didn’t the girl say something to me? Is she stalking me? I don’t understand. Apparently she broke it off with him because he wouldn’t stop talking about me. Like seriously is he insane? Did I teach him nothing when we dated for 3 years? Clearly not. Talking about your ex is something you just do not do. And I’m sure he did talk about me all the time…because I’m awesome. So I’m just out on date #3 with the Weds night guy (see previous posts). I know the place we are at is a place the ex used to frequent so I do a quick look around and see nothing thinking the coast is clear. I mean, what are the chances he’d be there anyway? Then – WHAM. There he is sitting at the bar with some chick, clearly on a date. I mean, is this shit for real? Why am I seeing him everywhere now??!!! I don’t see him for months and then all of a sudden twice in one weekend, plus the psycho stalker girl sees me? All I ask is that I don’t get sucked back into his quagmire of insanity. Because his shit was seriously insane. Can I just meet, and actually like a nice, normal guy in this lifetime? This is all I ask people! It would be nice if I had some desire to date. But I really don’t…it really is like pulling teeth getting me to actually go out with some of these people. I’d rather be home being “productive” (aka facebooking) or hanging with my friends. And I’m sure running into the ex repeatedly isn’t going to help my cause.
For all you single ladies out there, does anyone nickname the guys they are talking to or who play some role in their lives? I’ve done it ever since I was young. In fact, growing up, my sisters and I would go camping and bike riding frequently. When biking on the trails, we’d sometimes see a fine young fellow who appealed to us, and when we did, we’d coin him a “flat tire” so he wouldn’t think we were talking about him. “FLAT TIRE!” we’d scream out, as if he couldn’t see that we didn’t have a flat tire. Those were the days. Over the years, we’ve come up with more creative nicknames for boys. I’ll just go down the list with some recent clever ones that come to mind:
- Scantron: Scantron works in my office, and I think it’s safe to say that he’s developed a bit of a crush. He went on a trip to New Orleans and brought me back a pencil that says “New Orleans” on it. So, immediately Felipe started calling him #2, which gradually progressed to Scantron. He just brought me a cd to listen to, and has been tempting me over to his desk with some dry roasted edamame. He knows my weaknesses!
- Tool: Tool was named by a former co-worker, we’re calling her Laura for purposes of this blog. Tool works with Married Guy, and when he first started I thought he was cute. So I relayed this to Laura, and she knows the type that I am attracted to (tools) but hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing him yet. So one day she’s walking downstairs to go to lunch, and sees this new young guy walk by her who fits the description of the cute guy I had described. He’s wearing white sunglasses, but doesn’t have them perched on the top of his head like a normal person would. Instead, they are perched awkwardly on his forehead, possibly so he can look cool. So, she immediately thought he was a tool because not only was he wearing white sunglasses, but he had them perched on his forehead. Ever since then, we’ve called him Tool. And knowing that one of my friends doesn’t like someone immediately means that I don’t like him anymore either, so that possibility was killed on contact.
- Married Guy: I don’t know what it is, but black guys have some sort of radar for white girls who are open to dating black guys. Married Guy would walk by my cube almost daily and stare in at me, and I thought he was hot. So finally one day, Laura so kindly went and talked to a mutual friend to get the scoop on him. Turns out he’s married, but he’s telling this mutual friend that I am hot and and he wants to get to know me? What is wrong with men? So of course I tell him to get lost and he disappears for a few months, only to resurface recently. I think his friend Tool is cute, so agree we can do a happy hour or something in the future. Married Guy was featured in a previous blog post.
- Plant Guy: He watered the plants at my old job. Every Friday he would come in and rave about my plant and how “beautiful” I was (don’t you love when guys call you “beautiful,” ladies? I immediately know they are trying to get some ass with that comment). I tend to be nice to people so would chat him up like I would to anyone. Next thing I know, I’m leaving the job and Plant Guy gets me this gift and a card with this message about how in love with me he is and how he will miss me. He leaves his telephone number and address hoping I will call him. Plant Guy was sweet.
- Rico: This actually is his real name (I think). Being that he lied to me about moving to Colombia, I’m going to guess that his name is actually fictitious as well, so included it in the list. Felipe likes to call him , since he’s skinny as all hell. He told me he just had a high metabolism, but turns out he’s a stoner. I know how to pick ’em.
- Hot Friend Phil: Hot Friend Phil is best friends with my ex. I met Hot Friend Phil and my ex at the same time. Initially, I had no interest whatsoever in my ex. But Hot Friend Phil was charismatic and obviously hot so I was maybe hoping something would happen with him, even though it was clear my ex liked me. A few months later, ex and I started dating. Which reminds me that today is actually ex’s birthday; I should probably give him a shout.
I know there are more out there, but those are the most recent ones that immediately come to mind. If anyone can think of others I’ve missed, feel free to share and I will update the post. Isn’t nicknaming fun?