Posts Tagged ‘girls

19
May
11

“We got three big weeks ahead of us. It’s wedding season, kid!” *

Dear Dee,

We’ve hung out two nights throughout the course of our lives, and both times I’ve desperately wanted to make out with you. The ironic thing is the first time we met, about two years ago, we were making fun of a couple in our group who had just gotten together and their public make out scene was vomit-inducing, at best. Fast forward 24 months and possibly 24 first (shite) dates, and we were again thrown together at said couple’s wedding.

I forget the exact reasons I didn’t make a move the first time around, probably some combination of the following: I don’t operate that quickly, we were with some of your extended family, I’m kind of a p-word. This time around though, the reason was far clearer: I can’t play the rat race that happens at weddings. Sure, I’ve been to some where there are seventeen single females looking to make out, but this situation was entirely different. You were literally the only eligible female at the event (not entirely true, but the other two I’m thinking of are in that friend zone).

From the rehearsal dinner on Friday night onwards (my speech alone should’ve been enough for you to want to tear my clothes off…I kid, I kid), it was clear that I would be competing with approximately a dozen single men for your attention. Perhaps if I didn’t know anyone else at the wedding my mindset might have been different…but there were about 75 people I knew there, and a good chunk of them I actually wanted to see (this is exactly the opposite of what happens when I go to the bar most weekends). Maybe if I was guaranteed at least a boob grab or something I would’ve made more of a concerted effort. I guess I just don’t see the point of spending all night at a wedding with some cool people pining after one girl’s (even if she is cute & fun) attention.

Is that abnormal? That I’d rather spend times celebrating with my (pseudo) family & friends than shower you with affection? Is this a sign of a bigger problem. If so, I might be f*cked, and not in a good way.

Oh, out of curiosity, if I had approached you somewhat early on Saturday and said, “listen…I’m not going to join in the competition for you, but just know that I’d love to make out later on if you want to,” what would you have said?

See you in a couple years I hope,

Jeremy

*Wedding Crashers

30
Mar
11

If a guy doesn’t call you, he doesn’t want to call you.*

Dear Lizzie,

I had a nice time the other night, I really did. For a first date/second meet up ( a 20 minute beer doesn’t really count as a date, does it?). We sat at the bar, enjoyed a couple tasty beverages, some delicious food, and talked continuously for about two hours. We covered a wide variety of topics, ranging from incredibly awkward first dates, weird exes, and what the chances of Geno Auriemma & Pat Summit having some kind of sexual relationship and when they berate each other in public it’s all just part of their cover up. Then, after I treated, I walked you to your car and we had a decent little makeout session considering some guy was smoking a cigarette on his stoop a mere 20 yards away.

But I got home and realized that was probably the wrong thing for me to do. Unless I completely misread the situation (and given I need this blog as a way to try to understand women, it is entirely possible I did in fact do just that), I think you wanted to make out because you are, to a certain degree anyway, into me. I, and I promise I only realized this AFTER the fact, wanted to make out…well, to make out. Since I didn’t take it any further, I don’t feel TOO badly, but there is still some serious Jewish guilt marinating in my head.

On my drive home I was psyched that our date went so sell, and I made out with someone for the first time in god knows how long. But after five minutes of reading what happened in the sports world that evening, I found myself perusing the online dating scene…and when I saw someone I had emailed had actually returned an email of her own, I was even more psyched. That made what had probably been subconsciously running in the back of my mind all night obvious…I’m not that into you.

There is no real concrete reason I can give you…you are cute, smart, funny, successful, into sports, that list goes on and on…I just know that there have been other girls I’ve been out with who after the first or second date I could care less about anyone else on the match.com site. Yes, I realize this is not dating, but I think I’ve been over this before in previous letters. I date about as well as Charlie Sheen does sober, or Rebecca Black sings. I’m either into you or I’m not…

Sorry,

Jeremy

ps – for those reading who think I am actually going to use this as a means to telling this girl I don’t think we should go on any further dates, remember this is anonymous…so she won’t actually read it. I WILL indeed tell her this in a less cowardly manner (ie text message…just kidding, calm down…at least I will use the phone).

*He’s Just Not That Into You ( I will call, by the way, you just might not be a fan of the convo…)

28
Mar
11

sometimes you just gotta say “what the f*ck.” *

Dear Readers,

Going against my better judgment I am going to write my first letter in almost three weeks to my readers (again), but really it’s on behalf of myself. I say ‘against my better judgment’ for two reasons: 1. the Jewish guilt I feel for not coming up with something new in so long is really riding me hard right now and 2. I’ve released this blog to a few of my real (not twitter/blog friends who don’t actually know who I am) friends, and thus fear being harassed over how lame some of this is sure to be. But as I’ve found myself saying lots lately, f*ck it.

Basically I want to use this space as a means to offer an apology to all of my adoring fans out there. I say that with only a hint of sarcasm, because in truth I did receive many tweets, direct messages, and emails during my absence inquiring as to my whereabouts, even people claiming “I can’t get through my day without your posts.” While I think that is a bit too much pressure on myself, I appreciate the sentiment. Knowing my writing has actually meant something to at least a few people makes it worthwhile. However, blogging by nature is narcissistic, and therefore what my fans think really amount to jack shit, at the end of the day. I kid, I kid.

But honestly, I created this blog to try to discover something about myself, in a humorous (hopefully) and anonymously public manner. Now, my self proclaimed break in the action has not come because I have discovered anything, in fact, I’m probably even more at a loss for my romantic self than I was when I started last fall. However, real life has managed to get in the way, and as a result, finding someone to make out with has not really been on my radar this month.

Three things all happened at once: 1. I took on more freelance writing to pay the mortgage (which means when I have free time, writing/blogging is not exactly my favorite thing to do) 2. Tennis season started and I’m still adjusting to waking up at 5am a few days a week and 3. I realized once the summer ends, I’m going to need full time employment…and as a result I’ve actually started applying myself to job search more.

Bottom line is I haven’t been on a date in over a month, and on top of that, I haven’t even really been interested. I don’t know where I’m going to be in 6 months, and since I need to figure that out it makes trying to pursue a relationship out somewhat difficult. I would’ve thought that writing about ex-girlfriends would still be really easy, but getting mentally into the moment when I’m having a tough time about present options for make outs is harder than one would think.

But I have some good news. Not knowing exactly where I’m going to be in the near future shouldn’t really have this much of an effect on my personal life…so I think I’m going to rev up the engines again. The chances of me finding anyone who I like enough/likes me enough to alter my future are slim anyway, so like I said above, f*ck it.

Also, I want to make out.

Jeremy (bam, my real name)

*Risky Business

03
Mar
11

“I say forget about forgiving and just accept. And… get the hell out of town.”*

Dear Ally & Carolyn,

Do I owe you both apologies? Just one of you? Neither of you? It’s been a few months and I’m still not sure what the protocol here is.

So there I was, in some post Thanksgiving meal bliss watching some football on my parents big screen. And by bliss, I mean I couldn’t move, the button on my pants was undone, and there was a nice caucasian by my side (that is, a large White Russian, the drink. Not a human). I decided to peruse the current match.com scene as it had been a month or so and I wanted to see the fresh meat, err, I mean potential long term female relationship partners that were on there. As luck would have it, a girl with an intriguing profile & some cute pictures actually shot me an IM. That was you, Carolyn. We chatted for 30 minutes or so about music, and how stupid match.com was. It was very easy going and I found myself somewhat at ease with you. One would think it’d be normal to be at ease IMing with someone, but one would be surprised.

But, while we were IMing, I was browsing other profiles. Apparently, this was a dick move. Well, only because the one girl I decided to email was you, Ally. And only because the two of you happen to be effing roommates. Just my effing luck. Bottom line was this: After a few emails I thought I had more in common with Ally, and was also slightly more attracted to her…but since I talked to Carolyn first I was already cast as an asshole in your apartment.

I don’t need to discuss our awkward coffee date Ally…or how apparently I saw you at a bar one night Carolyn and didn’t say hello (it was Saturday at 1am, I was hammered, and I’d only seen online pictures of you, did you really expect me to recognize you?), or how I never spoke to either of you again. In some ways, I completely understand given just how awkward it is. But in most ways, it’s all a bunch of bullshit. Carolyn, you likened the situation to me buying you a drink at a bar but then halfway through the conversation turning to my right, buying another girl a drink and talking to her. But that isn’t true…you know why? Because we weren’t at an effing bar. We were talking on a dating service website. I didn’t realize we were exclusive already. Would you have cared if I was emailing another girl that wasn’t your roommate? Well, if the answer is ‘yes,’ then you are a crazy biatch. If the answer is ‘no,’ then how can I be an asshole just because of some crappy luck?

And Ally, I guess I understand why you seemed as comfortable as Charlie Sheen in a Church when we had coffee. I just wish we had met under different circumstances.

Anyway, according to facebook you are both now in relationships. I hope they go well, and if they don’t just pull the roommate swap.

Sincerely,

Not an Asshole

*Grosse Pointe Blank (I’m not leaving town, fyi. I can’t wait to run into you at the bar one night).




Letters sent…

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