March 2012


You know how I said that Funny Man made me laugh and that was his (come to find out only) best quality? I love to have people make me laugh, whether friends, family or in a romantic relationship.

Well, I’m no longer laughing at or with Funny Man. The details of what has happened seem so silly and so 2012 in the world of facebook-overdrive. But no less upsetting. And like that, * snap * we’re over.

Needless to say, he made his way onto my sh*t list, on which there are only a handful of people.

We started out as friends, and I tried to maintain that connection through this weird break period. Now, because of his deceptive and dishonest behavior, he is no longer even a friend. I don’t handle boyfriends (or dates) lying to me, so I sure as hell don’t tolerate my friends doing it.

I’ve spent the majority of my time dealing with Funny Man being completely frustrated and confused, so I’m finally over it. I’ve been more upset and disappointed than I have been happy.

So I’m over him.

I read this quote on 100 First Dates (who got it from Sexy Typewriter), and I think it sums up my new dating philosophy quite nicely:

“I have learned exactly one thing from this whole “dating” business. It is this: never give a man a second shot at disappointing you, because he definitely will again. In new and special ways.”

As Don Draper said in Mad Men last season: “People tell you who they are, but we ignore it – because we want them to be who we want them to be.”

So no more ignoring for me! Now to find someone who wont disappoint me from the get-go…

According to WordPress, this is my 100th post (including both private and public posts)! Thanks everyone for reading and commenting!

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Living in Denver increases one’s probability in owning a dog by about 537%… or so it seems. I think I know about 3 people who don’t own a dog (I count my BFF as having one because one of her cats acts like a dog).

In case you were wondering, I do not own a dog.

BUT…

I own a toad.

That’s right, a toad. Dogs and cats are WAY too high-maintenance.

Because of his dedication to me and ability to not die after a week (or more) without eating (because I’m neglectful), I want to tell you about him.

First off, I should expose my extreme lack of creativity and tell you his name: Mr. Toad. Completely original, I know.

This is pretty much what he looks like (minus the leaves– he lives in a plastic cage with moss):

(Source)

Mr. Toad has stuck by me through countless boyfriends, about a dozen of houses/apartments, a husband (who?), and even flaky friends.

He also seems to be the invincible toad. Christmas this past December marked his 7th birthday with me! (His friend, Pickles, only lasted about 3 years to give you some perspective).

I got him as a Christmas present from my mom to have in my dorm room– she claimed, rightly so, that fish were boring. Little did she know that this toad would still be around over 7 years later.

I am too busy and lack the desire to commit to taking care of a pet that has much more maintenance than Mr. Toad. I clean his cage every couple of weeks, add water when needed, and feed him LIVE crickets every few days. Best. Pet. Ever!

Most importantly, I don’t have to pet him, hold him, or interact with him physically for any reason.

And that’s the best arrangement for both of us. He clearly loathes being held (as has been shown by him leaping out of my hands and behind a small bookcase when I was in college… what a brat!)

If you ask any of my friends who have dogs (or dog-like cats), my tolerance for them is very low. I will pet them once (if at all) and then wash my hands immediately. Except for my friend E’s dog– that dog is awesome. But she’s also really old and extremely low maintenance, so she isn’t coming up to me every 30 seconds wanting to be petted and drooling all over me.

Anyway, Mr. Toad sits happily in his cage, untouched by my hands, and I just say “good morning” to him every day in what The Roommate has deemed my “Mr. Toad voice” and that’s about the extent of our interactions. When he has been fed, I’ll watch him leap at the crickets, but he gets distracted by me and even after all this time, still thinks I’m food…

I never said he was the smartest toad.

He’s the perfect pet for me and I strangely love him. I had a complete and utter meltdown when I thought I had accidentally killed him when I thought the cage lid had squashed him– yeah, that was not the birthday phone call my dad thought he was going to get. Thankfully he came away unharmed.Whew!

Mr. Toad has been through everything with me and is one of those constants that I know I take for granted. That strange, slimy, erratic toad is one great pet.

Plus, he’s way more interesting of a topic instead of being just like everyone else by owning a dog. So even more bonus points for him!

My favorite story to tell about Mr. Toad is this one:

I got him my freshman year of college and I lived with a sorority girl (who I’ll call Pi Phi for no reason whatsoever ;-)) who I did not really get along with. We coexisted– she and I werenothing alike. So one day I came back to the room after class and Pi Phi said to me, “your toad was barking.” I looked at her like she was insane. I thought she was hearing things, and just brushed off her weird comment.

That night, I was laying on my bed watching some tv show, with Mr. Toad in his cage behind my head on my desk, and I swore I heard the a chiwawa in the room across the hall barking up a storm. “Why do they have a dog in their room?” I thought to myself. And then it hit me. I slowly sat up and turned to look at Mr. Toad. There he was, head up, and making a faint barking noise. It sounded like a small dog barking behind a closed door. I laughed and laughed and when Pi Phi came back, I told her I finally believed her. So maybe she wasn’t as crazy as I thought. The End.

Oh, and if you ever call him a “frog” I just might punch you in the face. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!

I love you, Mr. Toad. I just wish you didn’t eat live crickets–they’re really disgusting.

I go through phases where I become completely obsessed with a song and will listen to it non-stop. The repeat button is worn out on my itunes (if that is possible…).

Here is my current obsession: (for those of you who get my blog via email, you may have seen a random post that had this video… I seem to fail in figuring out how to attach a video in wordpress’ weird “quick post” layout…)

I’m pretty sure I’ve contributed to at least a million of the 120+ million views the video has. I just can’t get over how hauntingly beautiful this song is.

The reason I’m sharing this song obsession with you is the fact that when I listened to the lyrics, I realized that when I think about my life, I have actually had the thought “oh yeah, I was married once…” My ex, Voldemort, is just some guy I used to know. I’m not at all connected to him. I don’t wish to have him back. I hope to never even run into him. I never use the term “ex-husband” even– he’s always “my ex.” He doesn’t even have enough standing in my life to be acknowledged in his past standing of importance.

When I was in the middle of my divorce, I couldn’t imagine how I would ever not feel sad about it. And yet, here I am, 3 years later, vaguely recollecting that I was even married to him… It’s crazy how I went from committing my life to this guy to labeling him under “some guy I used to know.”

Time really does heal all wounds.

Dating can be like a pendulum.

I’ve dated enough to be able to look back and see how I would date Person A, react to the things I didn’t like by dating Person B who was the complete opposite of person A… and I’ve done that for as long as I’ve been dating. My most extreme example is when I dated California my freshman year of college who was not at all like the goody-two-shoes boys I knew in high school. I then dated The Debater my sophomore year who was ultra-conservative and extremely religious. I then dated The Bad Boy that summer… see a pattern?

Thankfully I broke my pattern of reacting to my ex’s conservativeness and/or religiousness, but I still end up going from one extreme to the other. Case in point: I dated The Narcissist and a couple of months later dated The Dud (alternately referred to as “Huh?”).

I know this pattern in myself and I pride myself on my new-found self-awareness, so I try to be aware of it when I start dating someone new, and especially when I’ve broken up with someone and go for the rebound date.

But my sister said something to me the other day that has gotten me thinking about all of this in a different light.

We were talking about Funny Man, who came to my birthday dinner bash and my sister sat across from him at the table. When I asked her what she thought of him, her response was “he was very fun and life of the party… like Voldemort (aka my ex).”

I should have prefaced her comment with this nugget of information: when Voldemort and I split, our friends had a really hard time grasping what had happened because “he’s just so much fun!” Which is true, but that didn’t mean that meant he was a good husband (or person for that matter). So, speaking of pendulums, I’ve been weary of “class clowns” ever since… maybe I’m not as self-aware as I thought…

Because of my hesitation to be around people who resemble my ex in any way, shape, or form, it gave me a jolt. “Oh shit!” I thought to myself. “What does this mean for me and Funny Man?” I started to have a tiny panic attack until a thought donned on me:

Just because there was something good about my ex doesn’t mean I have to avoid those traits like the plague.

Obviously, that doesn’t mean to just abandon my awareness or not heed what my sister said as being a potential warning (as L, my former counselor would advise: pay attention and see if it really is an issue or just a hiccup).

But I’ve been thinking about this a lot since my sister made that comment. I liked that people liked Voldemort. I liked that I could bring him with me to parties and he was engaging and fun and could easily make people laugh– even if it was at his own expense (there’s a notorious picture of him in a Santa flag… and nothing else…). That was 5 years ago, and I still laugh about it with my friends!

So does everything that is similar an automatic red flag? Or can I learn to appreciate the (few) good things that Voldemort brought to the table and even look for it in someone else? Or is that playing with fire?

The ultimate question being: can I find someone who is a responsible adult (with a stable job, lots of friends, etc) AND is sociable/funny. Or does being funny and charismatic automatically mean someone is a bum?

I really hope it’s possible…

You know the saying “you’ll regret the things you didn’t do more than the things you did”?

I think that applies to dating (or romantic relationships in general) more than anything else.

Recently, The Roommate and I have had more than one discussion about wanting to date a particular someone “just because we have to know.”

We have to know what it would be like, what it would feel like, and where it will go.

Sometimes it can be solved with a simple kiss, a single date, and sometimes the only thing that will answer it is full-fledged dating.

My go-to example is that there a guy who I knew in high school and remained close friends all through college, who I still regret not kissing– just to see what it would be like. He is/was quite the ladies man, so I assume(d) he’d make it worth my while… but I chickened out when the opportunity arose. So he’ll forever be “the hot guy I was just friends with.” (Although the rise in my social standing being friends with him is undeniable…)

When those desires rear their heads, it’s hard to think of little else. “What if” constantly plays through my head and daydreams of a first date get themselves carried away and all of a sudden I find myself daydreaming of my wedding with said groom-to-be.

More importantly, there is no real desire for anyone else. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m waiting on Funny Man to get his shit together by the end of the month so we can take our “what if/take-two” to it’s appropriate level and actually date each other. To quote Gigi in He’s Just Not That Into You (I told you, this movie is my life…), “It’s hard to focus on nutmeg when the guy who might be the guy of my dreams refuses to call me.”

I’m a strong believer in fate (possibly to my detriment), so that quote resonates with me on an incredibly deep level. I can easily write someone off as “not meant to be” but when I have this relentless desire to know “what if,” it’s a lot harder to move on.

My impatient instinct is to try to write him off, citing the fact that he has been a neglectful friend. But that’s unfair because the reason I’m having to wait is because he knew he’d be neglectful until the end of March and asked me to wait. humph

I guess this is just me venting about the fact that I hate waiting and I wish it was the end of March so we could get the “what if” answered once and for all.