I’d Rather Go Read A Book

We played catch up the other weekend. Since we don’t live close to each other, we have to cram everything in to one weekend. Plus, Owen wanted me to meet his friends and family so he could tell me that he loved me. Right? I’m right. It’s easier if he just admits it, darling.

Owen met my HLM and Big Sexy and he already knew he loved them. He even met my family, coming to Easter and being nervous that my dad would ask him to pray and he was “trying to remember Catholic prayers from childhood”. Yeesh. But they didn’t. My siblings were funny and kind and the best versions of themselves. My nieces and nephews called him Mister Owen. They asked him mildly inappropriate questions about war and battle and he gently answered their curiosity with kind responses. They think he’s especially cool. He had a particular bond with my oldest niece-relating to her desire to be treated like a grown up. It’s funny how childlike Owen acts, but wants to be taken seriously. The thing is, he’s already enough. Without being ridiculous and pushing buttons and accepting every piece of attention. She’ll learn that soon too. We ended up having some alone time with my parents when everyone else left. We got Sonic and sat in the back seat of the car. It felt like being 17 again. My family loves him. My mom and sister in law are particularly worried about his faith. But then again, so am I. Mom was quick to tell me that he’s a good fit for me though. Funny and interesting. And doesn’t just put up with my shit. That Owen challenges me. Boy, does he.

Gah. I adore him.

Anyways, we spent a weekend with his best friend and his wife and their boring couple friends. The four of them shared a hotel room. I think I may have actually died had he forced me to share a hotel room with them. They literally came to Austin loaded up with super cheap (hangover-for-sure) level alcohol and fruit punch. Like high school. I wasn’t thrilled, especially since earlier in the day, we had celebrated Big Sexy’s birthday on a rented boat on the lake with 10 other people. Owen drank too much. It’s strange to me that he still doesn’t exactly know what that means. And that he would push his limits when he drove me in his car, which is a manual, and he knows I can’t drive that. It was a good time on the boat though. I just wish Owen could fully understand (rightthisverysecond) what it looks like when he drinks too much when he probably should be taking care of me. His values are off. His priorities are wrong. I’ll give him time though. Just not forever.

Anyways, we get to the hotel after that long day full of alcohol and sun. And they want to GO OUT that night. I’m trying to rally and so is he. We go to an Italian place for dinner. We’re so exhausted that the earth feels like its off its axis. We don’t have anything to say to each other that won’t be like the Snickers commercials before they beat their hanger. I’m dreading the evening. However, I rally. I look cute in this skort that shoes off my legs and a swingy spaghetti strapped crop top. Cute. Casual. Austin-y. I wear flats because I’m not a fucking freshman. The other two girls look like a sorta cheap version of Uptown Dallas-ites. My Chicago bff tells me to be nice when I Snapchat her this…it’s true. I try to suck it up. I order my favorite drinks. I join in on the “coolest concert you’ve ever been to” conversation. Little did I know that this would new the most that your best friend actually talks to me. I rally to make it to the next bar when they want to hop. Owen later mentions that he saw lots of men “noticing” me. Well. Yes. That’s what bar hopping entails, friend. He mentions that maybe he should be jealous. I just rolled my eyes. We stand in little circles Owen and his BFF just scream-talk in inside jokes and movie references and basically seem like 20 year old frat boys. No one asks me anything. Everyone pretends they’re having fun. The male counterpart of the boring couple comes over to me and starts hitting on me. No one notices. We finally hop to the third place. It has music! And dancing! And Owen says he doesn’t want anything when I squeeze up to take my place at the bar. Really? YES. I order him a club soda and reach over the bar to get extra limes. This way, no one will bother him. Also, now that I know that he’s staying sober, I loosen up. We’re finally somewhere fun, I feel safe, and literallynone of them dance. Who are these people? They talk about “getting fucking lit” and then are essentially no fun. They order cheap drinks even though we’re all adults. They don’t dance. This is the time to get a buzz as we can walk home, andnow  they choose to stay sober? Like, I’m glad. But also confused about their choices.

We spend that night wrapped up together. He frustrates me. He didn’t cater to me at all that day. His bff had almost nothing to say to me. But I can tell he’s frustrated with their planning skills. That he’s trying to learn to balance this new thing; this not being single and 20. And, grumpy, exhausted, we relax in to each other.

The next morning, BFF’s Wife gets sick in the van to lunch. BFF tells her to hold it in. He unsympathetically tells her to tell the driver to turn up the air. He doesn’t take care of her at all. Owen and I yell from the backseat for the driver to pull over. BFF’s Wife hops out of the car, pukes in the trash can on the sidewalk, then HOPS BACK IN WITH A SMILE ON HER FACE AND SAYS SHE FEELS BETTER. The whole brunch is more of the boys saying super inapprorpriate inside jokes. I have nothing to contribute. Plus, I’m fuming that BFF is pissed that his wife keeps getting up to dry heave in the bathroom. No kindness. “She shouldn’t have mixed alcohols” he gruffs. WTH?! I don’t understand how they could encourage these behaviors in each other and then not take care of each other. Later in the day, we’re napping in our room and Owen asks me about it. He tries to defend his friend saying that she does this too much and BFF is sick of it. “I get that that’s frustrating” I concede. Owen says “but you don’t agree at all do you?” I say I don’t. And that’s it. Not much else to say. I imagine it’s hard to see your BFF look like a complete ass. It’s also hard to see your boyfriend be best friends with someone that treats his wife like that. ANd hard not to think “MY friends would NEVER treat their spouses like that”. But…they wouldn’t.

We hike down to the green belt later. They complain that it’s not deep. It’s a creek. In Texas. In the summer. It’s not going to be flowing. They complain that they’re exhausted. They bring cheap alcohol mixed with punch to drink. The girls are both overflowing their bikinis with their beer fat bellies. They wear the mismatched swimsuit bottoms and tops that girls do when they realize their boobs have massively exploded in relation to their small hips. They wear their sorority tank tops. Owen looks ridiculous in super short shorts and awful green tiger striped sunglasses. Normally, his silly clothes don’t bother me, but in combination with continued exhaustion and nothing to talk about with these people, I am about done. I pour myself a whiskey ginger and take my sexy side scooped one piece clad self out into the middle of the creek and ask the girls lots of polite questions. They’re not so bad when they’re away from their husband/boyfriend. I just keep thinking about how much more fun we’d have with my friends. About how my friends aren’t dependent on alcohol to have something to say to each other.

We get back to the hotel to shower up before dinner. Owen is frustrated because his friends won’t stick to a plan. He gets more upset when he realizes they didn’t make reservations for a Saturday night Memorial Weekend in Downtown Austin for dinner. His other military friend (Johnny Bravo) is driving in from 30 minutes away to eat and go out with us. We end up ditching his friends and going to dinner with Johnny Bravo. At this point, I am SO grateful to see Johnny Bravo and actually be acknowledged. I’m happy to hear them talk about something besides South Park and drinking. And I’m happy to see Owen truly smile at me for the first time in two days. It feels like we can each take a deep breath again. We eventually meet up at a cool bar on West 6th. And then, they sit there. Not really talking. Not dancing.

So, like, why did we choose to have a cool downtown Austin weekend with super boring people?

Owen asks me what I thought of them and I say “I really like how much effort BFF’s Wife made in accepting me and being excited to get to know me. And I really appreciate that you and BFF are so close to each other. I know that means a lot to you. But it was a little hard to get to know him in this partying kind of element. I felt like you were super stressed and everyone was exhausted. I’d love to have a more chill weekend with them sometime.”

“Hmm…well…I mean, we always go out when I see them. Because I don’t see them that often. Well, I guess sometimes we play video games together…hmm…yea…okay…”

I don’t respond. Because, I mean, how is that friendship? That’s your party friend. Just because you like to drink with someone and quote South Park, that does not mean I need to be included. Go on ahead. But I’d rather go read a book.

He told me a few days later “let’s not do that again. That weekend was too full. I was stressed out.” He also told me, “you did so great. I loved every second. You are so wonderful.” So, basically, he’s infatuated with me. And the fact that I nodded and smiled and rallied and didn’t complain even though I wanted to tell him the weekend was SO NOT FUN.

Here’s the thing, he’ll recognize that on his own. It seems like he’s already starting.

Think that’s the end of that weekend? Think again. After all of that, we drove up to meet his family…

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Trivial Pursuit of my Heart? Brain? Apathy?

I play trivia on a Thursday nights with a bunch of my girlfriends from church. Earlier this summer I thought I recognized the host as the best friend to the almost pastor with a hint of Aspergers that I dated once or twice (he was nice enough but so not a good fit for me). After 2 beers in, I Snapchat Aspergers Pastor and ask him if Trivia Host is his friend-he snaps back and says to tell TH hi and how he loves him. I call TH over to our table and replay the snap. He goes “oh nice! Tell him I love him too. Who are you? How do you know AP?” 

“Uhhh we dated a bit. I’m LeDistraire”

2 weeks later I get a Facebook message from Trivia Host:  

I realize this is pretty informal and out of left field, but I was just wondering if you would be at all interested in going to dinner some time. No pressure. If you’re not interested, then you’re not interested and that’s perfectly fine. Just wanted to see if that would be something you’d like to do.

It was cute enough. He gets my number, calls me, and sets up a time to meet. 

I’m not super excited as he seems a little too goofy and gangly for me. I end up super late to our date as I’m at a wine tasting for work. I’m also a lil drunk. Turns out he doesn’t drink and he wants to be a youth minister. I literally don’t understand how you can do both of those things. He asks me question after question and seems nervous. He’s smart though and very witty. It’s a fairly nice date. 

But then I head off to Europe with my friend. I figured I’d let it fizzle. I’m off doing adventurous things and I know I want someone that can match me in boldness in life. It’s probably not Trivia Host. He doesn’t even like Chick Fil A sauce.

But then his friend, the other guy I dated, messages me. Basically begging me to give Trivia Host a chance because he’s witty and the nicest guy he’s ever known. So I do. We go on a few more dates. He makes a perfect playlist and sets up speakers and dances with me in the middle of a gazebo. I break his SIX YEAR KISSING DRY SPELL. I didn’t know that or I wouldn’t have. Yikes! He truly is witty and nice. I slowly start to feel less and less attracted to him though.

Eventually, I look at him and see a weeny. Someone that hunches his shoulders and makes goofy faces and never works out. He seems like a kid brother.

I end things. We stay friends. It’s the first time I’ve stayed friends with someone that was falling for me. I give him advice on other girls. He gives me a birthday present when I turn 25. Sometimes I wish that I could like him in a real way. I don’t. But I know that if that changes, i’ll have to “beg to get him back. I’m not some easy floozy ya know?” (his words).

So, anyone need a nice guy? 

My Dating Life Is Under Arrest

The Second One was an alcoholic. 6 months after I broke up with him, he has coffee with me. He originally asked me to get a drink but then texted me the next morning to say coffee instead. He bikes up to the shop. The Second One looks sheepish and handsome which is not unusual. We toss a few biting barbs as our way of saying hello-the wounds are still fresh from each other and an easy target in which to pour some salt. 

Then he tells me about his second DUI he just got. 

No wonder we’re getting coffee. 

He had been “hanging out with his friend Richard” earlier he says with a slight wink in his voice, hinting that hanging out may or may not have included clothes being worn. They were drinking all morning and TSO thought he could still drive to work his shift as a barista. In front of the store there are about 6 places in a row for parallel parking. He whips around the corner and plows the sides of all 6 cars. 

He wants sympathy and acceptance. He has God for that. I just feel sad. 

Fast forward about two years. I’ve moved back to my town. I’m swiping away for distraction and entertainment and good ol’ Texas boys. There’s a cop that seems very upright and quiet and has really deep brown eyes. He’s adamant that he should get to know me. We spend a few dates together talking about music and such. He seems a little…slow…but sometimes you just need someone around to make out with. And boy does Cop fill that bill. We have great chemistry. He’s very tempting. He also works nights and is a bad texter, and his family dynamics seem strange, and he doesn’t really have any true friends, and wait-is that racist/sexist/bigoted shit coming out of his mouth? He keeps trying to nail me down and make it official. I dip and dodge and eventually sort of agree. One week later I never hear from again. After he begged, y’all. Makes no sense. 

The best part though? It turns out Cop was heading to a trial of a guy he arrested 1.5 years ago for a second DUI. Turns out that guy was TSO. TSO was suing Cop for a technicality. I dated the guy who arrested my ex. My ex sued a new guy I dated in order to be able to leave the state to move in with his new boyfriend in NYC. 

Dear Lord, why am I even trying? 

Long Island Mortification

I ran in to him at the bar.
I ran in to him at the gym.
I ran in to him at the Japanese restaurant where they grill food and light things on fire and say lame racist jokes all right in front of you.

My best friend’s mom was in town and took my BFF and all of her friends to dinner. Our waiter rolls up as soon as her mom gets done saying “I told your dad the other day that I’m going to start talking to waiters more. To be nice!” Naturally, our waiter is him.

The flashbacks come quickly and they’re just as weird as they were the first time:

It’s the summer after The First One. I’m Tinder-ing my little heart out. BFF and I decide to go dancing on a rooftop bar with friends and the other stragglers still here in the summer in this college town. She sees one of her fellow ex-athlete friends. Their chemistry has always been a little suffocating to those sitting next to them. They get tipsy together and bump and grind in their own private bubble. I wing-woman it and dance with his friend. Luckily he is funny and a good dancer. It cancels out his looks, which are not nearly as hot as the July in Texas air. In that dizzy haze that you get when full of alcohol, love for your friends, and perfect summer nights, I give him my number and agree to a date.

The date is rough. I’m in a weak spot. I want attention and I receive it from him in these varying forms:
-Drinks at the requisite bar that each town has that’s name The Office or The Library or whatever else
-Dancing at a local country bar, but mostly just making out in the upstairs corner while people stare
-Watching Brown Sugar on his couch, while avoiding him after the 10 minutes it took me to realize that I didn’t actually want to spend any more time with him
-Being compared to a “refreshing” alcoholic drink. A long island iced tea to be exact because “You have many aspects compared to others that helps you see and enjoy life in many ways”…uhh? No.

Basically my friends just call him Long Island from The Rooftop Bar and die laughing at any possible chance they have to bring him up.

Back to reality, I sink as low as I can in to my seat while Long Island half winks at me, graciously doesn’t say he knows me, then very obviously points me out to all the rest of his coworkers. “Not bad man” says one guy when I glance over and read his lips.

Mortification. That’s what dating gets you. Lame pick up lines and mortification.