Thursday, November 26, 2009

Communication Disorders...

This week has been interesting, to say the least... Nah, let's start about a month ago. An elder from my mission (who is home now) asked me if I wanted to go see a really great concert with him on Wednesday night (Thanksgiving Eve). I'm not particularly interested in said boy... we'll call him "Dean". Dean, is a nice kid, but not really my type... at all. But I have a 'always says yes once' policy. So I said yes.
He asked me a month ago, but I didn't hear from him till about a week ago, at which point Dean told me that he had forgotten to actually buy the tickets and so he cancelled. This seemed a little fishy... but I just took it at face value, no sweat, no skin off my back, whatever. Wednesday came and I'd kind of wondered if he was going to ask to hang out anyway, but I heard nothing. But the morning of the concert Dean posts something along the lines of 'Concert tonight is going to rock!' Immediately I assumed the worst. (I've been lied to by enough guys to not trust them easily). I fumed, yelled, was incensed, told people, and, of course, changed my facebook status to reflect my angry self, about stupid boys who lie... (getting great comments from a lot of my mom's friends). So, I told my parents about it, and they were upset for me. Dad especially. But I figured that I at least deserved an explanation. Dad told me what to post on Dean's wall and it was rather sarcastic and a little nasty. I had a second thought, but did it anyway.
Later that evening I checked my facebook, and sure enough there was a message from him. He told me that he had just bought a single ticket that morning and that he was really sorry for the misunderstanding and that he wanted to make it up to me. I definitely had an 'open mouth-insert foot' moment.
I was telling my sister's in laws about the situation. Her father in law, trying to change the subject, asked me what I was studying in school to which I laughingly responded

Communication Disorders.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Domestic Prostitution

Early in my college career I learned about something called Domestic Prostitution. It is supporting moochers. Specifically of the male variety. In my younger years I participated in the aforementioned practice. I would bake then sweetly deliver baked goods to boys doors. Since returning from my mission (and especially after giving up sugar and flour) I determined that I would not cook for boys. I shared my feelings with my roommates and taught them the term. The exception to the rule is when there is an exchange of services... say you help me make bread dough, I deliver some of the finished product. If you make me dinner, I'll bring dessert. Or tonight's example if you take me to the anatomy lab and teach me terms, I will give you a piece of honey sweetened whole wheat crusted pumpkin pie. My roommate had the gall to tell me that I was participating in the practice of domestic prostitution. Unbelievable! She banned me from using those words (who is she to tell me what I can and can't say?) and she won't let it go 'I can't believe you gave him a piece of pie...' and it goes on and on and on. Seriously? Mind your own business wench. (I'm working on charity tomorrow)

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Sick!

My roommate just scraped the fuzz off of her can of refried beans that's been in the fridge for a while. And ate it. Sick!

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Attainable Love

'Cuz (s)he is afraid of Attainable Love
Afraid it will envelop [her], swallow [her] up
All of [her] life (s)he has resisted the tug
Of Attainable Love
Attainable Love
~Christine Lavin

Today I went on a date... it was so nice. Unfortunately. We made pizza, then went mini-golfing, then watched a movie. We sat on the couch with shoulders touching (the love seat was big enough he could have stayed on his own side) he even wore cologne tonight. (I on the other hand have been running all day-- I was even 30 min late-- was lucky to have had deodorant on. There wasn't anything amazing, no fireworks or stars, it was just comfortable. It was with one of the elders from the mission. And it was nice. I liked him on the mission (I use the word like to mean respected, appreciated, trusted, etc.) Now, outside the mission, I still like him. He's really a stellar person. So, you may ask, why is he un-attainable? Hasn't he asked you out twice now? What's the issue. His heart's not in it... He's got another girl on his mind. ~sigh~ BUT I will not let myself indulge in a crush... though crushes on the unattainable are my favorite. Are they out of the country, in love with someone else, on a mission? Oh baby, that's my kind of man!
And, for your enjoyment, the lyrics to the whole song!
He's not eighteen
He's not twenty-five
He's closing in on forty
Look at those eyes
He's searching for something
He can not describe
He's not unhappy
He's not satisfied.

He falls in love with covers of slick magazines
With serious actresses
On the screen
All are unattainable except in his dreams
Where his heart and his soul reside.

'Cuz he is afraid of Attainable Love
Afraid it will envelop him, swallow him up
All of his life he has resisted the tug
Of Attainable Love
Attainable Love

His dance card is full
He's so much in demand
He gets nervous when his partners try to hold his hand
He's got to keep his options open
He's that kind of man
The girls he cha-cha's with never understand.

They wonder if he's gay
But the truth is he's not
He just won't settle for whatever it is he's got
They want to Tango
He want's to Fox Trot
Don't even think about the Can-Can
He can't can't.

'Cuz he is afraid of Attainable Love
Afraid it will envelop him - swallow him up
All of his life he has resisted the tug
Of Attainable Love
Attainable Love.

Add me to the list of women
Who think you'll be different with me
Add me to the list of fools
Who flatly refuse to see
That just like me....

He is afraid of Attainable Love
Afraid it will envelop him - swallow him up
All of his life he has resisted the tug
Of Attainable Love
Attainable
He is afraid of Attainable Love
Afraid it will envelop and swallow him up
All of his life he has resisted the tug
Of Attainable Love
Attainable
All of his life he has resisted the tug

Thursday, November 5, 2009

On a lighter note...

I have a date on Saturday night... and I'm pretty excited about it. It's no pressure because I know he's not interested, so it can just be fun.

Just thought I'd share happy news too!

Don't be a boob

If you decide to be unhappy keep it to yourself... I don't want you to rub off on me. I don't need to sit and listen to you be upset for hours on end. Because who ever you're complaining about will probably complain to me later about you. If your car breaks-- I'm sorry, but seriously, it's not the end of the world. Things could be worse. Like you could have cancer (like someone I know) Your family member could have been shot at Ft. Hood today. My life is far from perfect, but I'm not whining to you about it... I'm going to do something to fix it, or get over it. I might whine for a moment; I won't lie, but seriously... you being the baby of the family and being used to constant attention won't get you far with me. I was not raised that way. I'm not going to accompany you to everything that you want me to. I'm not going to bend to your every whim. I'm not that kind of girl. I will have my own life. I am going to do my best for me to be happy. Call me selfish. Whatever. I need to take care of me. I am moving out. Without you. I am finding a new ward. A new set of roommates. Older, more like me, more mature... I love you, don't get me wrong. We had fun at the beginning, but lately I've just become your sounding board. Just someone to listen to you whine about everything that you feel like is terrible in your cushy- trust-funded life.