Ok everyone, I’m back to being myself. And boy, do I have some serious stories for ya’ll. Let us begin with a recap of le weekend:
Saturday: Joined le family for a jaunt to Seattle to go see King Tut. WHICH WAS AMAZING.
King Tut. There was actually a cat-sarcophagus there. And tons of awesome stuff. And this is a Steve Martin SNL skit/song, so youtube it if you don’t know.
Eventually meander home.
The rest of the week has been rather unremarkable. Discounting the ultimatums about deciding I wanted my books and things back from the cocreator and the minor disaster that happened with it. But that is for another story. This weekend I met someone. And it went well-sh. However, I am turning into an accidental flirt in my age of nondating. I have been exiled (self-imposed) for a couple of years. Mainly because I haven’t found any one that makes me go “OOOH THIS ONE THIS ONE THIS ONE.” It’s like finding the perfect blazer or outfit. You look at it, imagine it, try it on (as in go on a date, pervs), but something about it just doesn’t seem right. Maybe the jacket fits wrong on one arm, the pants have a frayed hem, the shirt has a tiny hole. Just something feels wrong. Maybe you imagined it’d better fitting, more flattering, less obnoxious. Just whatever it is you want, you know this is not it. Maybe it doesn’t really thrill you. Maybe you’re just unsure. Maybe it looks perfect but it’s so uncomfortable or trendy that it’s not you. Just whatever it is you want, you know this is not it.
Thus has gone my last few years. I haven’t been searching actively, merely window shopping. If the window looked particularly appealing, I’d maybe step in the shop, get to know the person as more than just a friend while keeping a close distance from both the dressing room and the register. Cause that register is where shit gets real. I mean, I may have daydreamed about the walk to the register, parading my new outfit to everyone I know saying “I LOOK SO MUCH BETTER THAN YOU BITCH” unless I like them and then it will be a squeal accompanied by a “BE JEALOUS OF MY OUTFIT” to which any good friend dutifully replies “Oh my gosh WANT ONE JUST LIKE IT IT’S PERFECT FOR YOU I HATE YOU” kinda thing. If your people are civilized, your exchange will be less profane and less satisfying than mine. My people are loud. Like me. We say what’s on our minds. We try to lovingly, but when in doubt, cut to the chase.
So basically, I’m not looking to settle down. I feel like I need to proclaim this to the mountain tops every time a friend of mine gets engaged or meets the guy she’s definitely going to marry (Friend number 273498274982734872, I AM LOOKING AT YOU.) (She doesn’t know it’s her. We all know though.) Because what do people do at weddings? Be selfish, of course. I also would have accepted drinking as an answer. They start thinking about their own lives. I get scared when I start thinking that way. I panic and run out of whatever imaginary shop I’d looked at in my imagination’s imagination.
That’s right, I WENT THERE.
But seriously, I want to graduate nursing school with good grades, get a job, pay off my debt, travel, do something nice for my family, start saving for my little sister’s college fund (Mom, if you tell her I will be upset at you. And with you. That upset.), get pets, buy a house with a huge yard, and maybe eventually get married. EVENTUALLY. IF. THIS IS NOT A WHEN, IT IS AN IF. However, I do know I want to be a mom so we’re presented with the above issue again.
Look at the poster. You know you want to. It’s Leonardo DiCaprio for crying out loud. WITH JOSEPH GORDON-LOVETT. I love that man. And I think I misspelled his name. Whooooopsie.
There was a point I was making here. Oh, wait, wasn’t making a point, was telling a story. So I’m chilling with friends at some guys’s house off campus (friend of my friends) and there was this really cute guy there. They were playing FIFA soccer when all 5 of us got there, 2 other guys showed up later, so you know it was like 10 people total. Anyways. So to backtrack, I did in fact see the Bayern/Chelsea game but only at the behest of Vase Friend and a foreign SPM. I was in their city visiting them. I have never played soccer, I did want to once, but my mom did me a favor and said no to that bandwagon. I was doing a bajillion other things, would’ve been too much. I did in fact pay attention to this game, because Vase Friend and I played basketball and we were maaaybe making fun of a bit. BUT THEN IT GOT SUPER INTENSE. MORE INTENSE THAN MY YELLING RIGHT NOW. So we were laughing at the foreign SPM who was right next to the screen was nearly crying because Bayern lost by one penalty kick, which was pretty weak sauce if you ask me. So back to the story of this weekend: one of the FIFA teams is Chelsea. So without even thinking, I open my loud mouth and say “Oh Chelsea, I watched them play Bayern in the Euro Cup finals this summer. That game was heartbreaking.” And the RCG (really cute guy) whips his head towards me and says in almost awe “You know soccer?” To which I should’ve been honest and said “Not really, but could you explain it to me?” No. My big mouth says “Not a ton, but I’m definitely a Bayern supporter. Chelsea isn’t bad, but they’re kinda like the Lakers of the soccer world.”
This is the extent of my soccer understanding except that no one can use their hands unless they are the goalie (pardon me, keeper) or tossing it in bounds. Please don’t rip my head off, I’m new here.
THE RCG THINKS I AM AMAZING AND REMEMBERS MY NAME. He never forgets it the entire night and he forgot pretty much every one else’s names at least once. But nope, not me. Because I know soccer and am a cute girl. In shorts. So he ends up putting an arm behind me on the couch and I’m thinking “What is he doing?” Not in a “ERHMAHGERD CURT GUIII MERKING A MERVE”, in a “Does he have space issues with everyone or just me?” type thing. Because I in my non-looking mind frame am not noticing the attractive level of this RCG, nor that he is super intelligent and we’re having deep conversations about things unrelated to our immediate surroundings or that he keeps finding excuses to get into my conversations with others (not that he’s butting in, just observing) or even that his arm goes behind where I’m sitting (on the top of the couch again pervs). I simply do not notice. Because I am not looking. And I am an idiot and have never been good at this in general. So suddenly, this random arm gets around me. And in a semi-tired state, I look at it and ask myself “Who is the hell does this belong to?” Look over. RCG is shyly grinning at me. So I think “meh, what the heck. My guy friends so this sometimes. Maybe he’s just being friendly.”
Yes Past Self, you are a dumbass. He was soooo making a move. A jump that was kinda like the Pacific Northwest to Libya in 2 seconds for all the likelihood that my brain would recognize it. He ends up kissing me. Which was nice but meh. So I’m just a bit bemused by this whole situation and joke to him “You only like me because I know soccer.” To which he says “No, but it doesn’t hurt.”
Let’s cue the facepalms for my stupidity. Ready? Go.
eeeeeeven more facepalms. I am Major Oblivious
So I make an excuse to leave when one of Friends does because my awake brain kicks in and goes WTF JUST HAPPENED HERE GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE SO WE CAN PROCESS THIS. Friend is kinda surprised I’m leaving because apparently she and the rest of the world noticed he’s seriously attractive. And ripped. And intelligent. Basically, he looked great in the window of that imaginary store. However, I personally am not thrilled about an outfit that throws itself at anyone remotely good looking that knows soccer. So I resolve for that to be The End Of THAT. And promptly crawl into bed and fall asleep. Unbeknownst to me, RCG has decided that is not the end and his friend is texting Friend 2 for my number to give to RCG. The problem with that scenario is that Friend 2 and I just because friends recently and Friend 2 and Friend are roommates, which is how we met. So Friend 2 asks Friend for my number to give to RCG’s friend to give to RCG. Apparently he is being semi-obnoxious about it too. Friend, being my friend, thinks it’s sketchier than a cartoonist in 1740 to give out my number without my permission (ATTENTION ALL: THIS IS A HALLMARK OF A REAL, SANE FRIEND. HAVE AT LEAST ONE.) and texts me asking for my “ok” to give it to Friend 2 to give it to RCG’s friend to give it to RCG. However, I am sleeping. When I am sleeping, NOTHING can wake me up. Well, 4 things: my cat, my mom, my alarm clock, and maaaaaaaybe a lion roar. So this message doesn’t reach me til the next afternoon and I check my phone. The RCG realizes his friend is being obnoxious and just tells him to give Friend 2 his number for her to give to Friend for her to give to me.
Old fashioned game of telephone, anyone?
So I wake up to the fact that he wanted my number and that I have his. Being an awkward person, I have not a clue what to do with this information. Do I call? Text? Run around screaming “WHAT THE HECK?!!!!!” So being firmly entrenched in a “This won’t matter in 5 minutes because he won’t respond”, I gather up my nerve and say “Hey, this is Aurora from last night.”
And I’m right. There’s no reply. Until three hours later. I’d already beaten him mentally and moved on to doing so to Friend for telling me I needed to go for it when I get a text apologizing how late he is responding and he tries to strike up conversation. I am wary, but we chat off and on all day. And yet when I got stuck “babysitting” two drunk people that night, all I could think was “I’d so rather be hanging out with RCG and the people from last night instead of being at this loud, crowded, ‘awesome’ party.”
May I specify this as weird behavior? Suuuuper weird. I had to pinch myself and recite my curse words so I knew nothing had happened to me. Wish I’d had a token (Cough Inception Cough Cough). So when the fire alarm goes off, I think “LUCKY BREAK” and me and Friend head back to the house, where there were a few people chilling and he was one of them. Since he’s legal, I can officially say that he was a bit drunk on the night previous, which is why I teased him and didn’t take any of it seriously. So when he contiues flirting with me when he’s sober, albeit shyly and embarrassed, I start thinking “Wait, maybe he’s not just a drunk guy who thought I was cute. Maybe he legitimately thinks I’m cute.”
For me, this is a lightbulb moment. Resume facepalms for my frequent inability to distinguish flirting from friendly.
So I’m sitting next to RCG and there’s six of us or so who are sitting on the couch chilling and chatting while the television is on and suddenly there’s a hand holding mine. Now, I’m still not a propenent of the sneak attack method by guys because I did accidentally hurt a guy once because he caught me unawares. But this was sweet. So we held hands and chatted with everyone and I was kind of touched that he just wanted to sit next to me and hold my hand. I’d forgotten that people like to do that.
He hasn’t really talked to me since I left there with Friend a little while after that, but really that’s okay. Because while this jacket didn’t wear the exact way I want it to, it reminded me that I look good in jackets. Not just my straight jackets (Har-dee-har har). I don’t really need him to. I don’t want to buy anything or try anything on. But this was a good window shopping experience even though it started off weird.
Memo to guys: Buzzed kissing is better for you than her. She will probably not be feeling it at all. If you want your first kiss to have impact, be a man and do it sober.
Anyways, now when I hear all these things from family and friends of who’s having a baby, who’s engaged, when the date is, and start to feel like I haven’t done anything, I know I have. I’m thisclose to beginning nursing school and then graduating and having a real job. And if the thought-demons head towards the relationship front and try to tell me I’m lonely, I can say “I’m not lonely, I am happy. Besides, I just ruled out another outfit.”
Go forth and be brave in spirit.
I feel like a preacher and like I should say Amen.
So Amen.
Love,
Aurora
Eccentric Elephants 