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…


Making (Tentative & Bold) Plans

Alright, so now that I got that out of the way. We actually agree. On lots of things. But we’re both terrified. He’s scared he’s going to have to change. And I’m scared I’m not going to have control .

It’s laughable. A relationship without change, growth, adaptation, compromise, giving in…?

We’re hilarious really.

He’s nervous I won’t like his wild friends. I’m nervous he’s going to get plastered and embarrass me. Reality? I actually really enjoy going out. I haven’t had someone to do that with in a long time. Good drinks, fun people, dancing, music? I love it all. And, I’ve never actually heard of him drinking. Since we met, I’ve been the over-drinker. He’s stayed in most nights playing video games. And he got us a separate hotel room from his friends so that I would feel comfortable.

He over-explains his family. I get nervous that they’re heathens. Reality? They’re probably insanely lovely. I’m going to show them how funny, smart, and kind I find him. They’ll like us together most of the time, and sometimes, they’ll be confused because he’ll seem different. But, that is literally all relationships. When two people join, they make their own life together. Their own rules, traditions, rhythms. It’s okay. These people love him. And I lo…like him. We’ll get along.

I hate the distance part. He hates the distance part. Reality? We’ve each done our own thing for a long time. It’s actually not that far away. And if we stay together, being apart is completely part of that. More reality? We’re probably not that great at understanding each other on it so far. We REALLY like each other. But he’s hesitant to admit his feelings (see the scared of changing part) until I meet his friends and family. And I’m scared of being in a relationship (see the loss of control fear) and not being able to predict the outcome of all things. More reality? We’re still good to each other. We’re balancing it. We’re planning weekends: Memorial Weekend with his bff & his wife, and then a cookout with his family, then a ball in June, and then a whole week together. We’re flying in to Boston so I can show him what my life was there. Then traveling up the coast and “staying in bed and breakfasts and watching the sunrise on the coast!” (totallllllly wants a wild life…) of New Hampshire and Maine until we watch his friends get married.

We suck at this. Or maybe we’re normal.

Truly, I’m excited to find out.

This guy. He drives me nuts.

My Concerns With Love

Things I’m Worried About

He believes in God but doesn’t know what that means for him.
Uh, nope. Been there, done that. It’s one of my very few deal breakers. I dated someone previously who wasn’t open to it at all. I hated not going to church with someone. I hated that he didn’t/couldn’t try to see why it was so important to me. If you can’t love God/know God, how can you love and know His daughter? I base my entire life off of the bible and God’s promises and directions. I told him as much.
Responds with: Well, I’d still like to try. I hear that you’re wanting someone that sees at least the same shade of blue. Could I come see you in (your hometown) and go to church with you?

Well, ok.

He parties a lot. Drunk eyes, forgetting that he sent snapchats, partying partying. Still calls it “partying”. Who does that at his age? Show restraint and caring for your body and also for others around you. For other peoples’ perceptions. For your safety. For respect. Seriously, so many reasons.
I don’t laugh when he is giggling and telling me that part of his weekend. I ignore the behavior and respond positively to the other good parts.
Responds with: telling me all of the nice things he said about me to his friends and them saying how much they’d like to meet me and would I want to go camping with them all. In two months.

That’s it. Those are my concerns.

Oh yea, and he thinks I’m going to change with.
My response: Hell yeah. Love changes people. Welcome to life, friend.


Each time we saw each other at parties, we always had little interactions. Small conversations. Little acknowledgement of each other’s jokes. And then he stayed the latest at my best friend’s going away party. I told her I had a crush. He seemed smart and kind and quiet and funny and kind and had beautiful curly hair that looks a little bit like a lion’s mane and dressed subtly cute and was so kind. Did I say he was kind? 

My best friend told him we would be a good match. He casually asked for my number and called me that week. Our first date was drinks. We talked for 4 hours. All sorts of topics from politics to religion to friendships to family to gun control. Random and intense but so so easy. We line up on almost everything. We made up stories for each of the couples in the room. It was easy and I was excited. 

 I saw him 3 more times without him kissing me. I was leaving for a two week trip to Europe. I invited him over earlier that morning to come over and hang out for a bit. We ended up kissing and he was so gentle and strong at the same time. He’s incredibly shy and quiet most of the time and he was silent while he kissed me. It was strange but not in a weird way. 

The weeks I was gone, we flirted and chatted through snapchat. Two weeks worth of build up. By the end he was saying that he couldn’t wait for me to be home and that he was excited to see me. He came over two nights ago. The build up culminated. As we started making out, I paused to give boundaries “This is probably a good time to tell you that I’m not going to have sex with you”. He sort of giggled and said “Okay”. That’s it. I’ve never had that reaction before and I felt extremely self conscious all of a sudden. I wanted him to compliment me, say he liked me, ask to see me again. Instead he was quiet. Attentive, but quiet. Gentle, passionate, talented, but quiet. It unnerved me a bit and I said “You are so quiet.” with a little too much passion that sounded like a criticism. However, I only meant it out of a place of insecurity. I texted apologizing with that later and he responded with “Oh no worries! I wasn’t offended. I’ll be sure to be more communicative next time. I enjoyed everything :)” After we finished, i snuggled up in front of him and he became way more talkative when we weren’t face to face. He told me about his goals-being a head strength coach is his mid goal and owning a high performance gym is his later in life goal. I responded with how great that was that he had clear goals. There was a pause and he says “and you can manage it with your wine store management skills”. 

He left yesterday for a weekend trip to Colorado with his dad. He didn’t ask me out. He didn’t say he wants to see me again. 

So, I’m confused. He says certain things that seems like he admires me and may have a crush as well. Like the comment above. But then he doesn’t seem like he’s pursuing me much. 

Is he just shy? Should I take the lead? The “male” role of asking out each time in the beginning until he’s comfortable? He could say no if he doesn’t like me, right? I don’t think he’s an asshole that just says things like that for no reason. 

Does he like me?


I like him. 

Old Man Heebie-Jeebies

As you remember, Mr. Kerouac wooed me right at first. We saw each other a few times. We went to brunch because I wasn’t sure if I was comfortable going to dinner. What if he has a weird voice? I hate not knowing someone’s voice. He was funny and intelligent.

But, Warning Sign #1:
-He told me how men thought overall. “It’s okay that you didn’t play a lot of sports because guys don’t like that. Guys like girls that are girly” Okay. No.

But when I’m bored, tired, and hoping to make out with someone, I think I overlook things like that. I don’t want him as a boyfriend. I just want a good kisser and someone that is entertaining. He asked me over to “listen to records and talk”. Code for make out.

Warning Sign #2:
-He didn’t ask me out out to see if there was romance. But again, I wanted to make out.
He had purchased two different types of wine, got hummus and crackers, and bought cheese cake and chocolate cake. He owned a teensy little house with stark-lined album art hanging on the walls. It was clean and he was relaxed. He had me pick my favorite album and we talked while I got annoyed that he wasn’t making any moves.

Finally, I move to leave, and he finally kisses me. His lips are soft, but his long beard and mustache are scratching. They’re so long that the hairs start to get a little wet. He is a talented and accommodating kisser. He goes to move me to his room.

Warning Sign #3:
-He struggles to lift me. I hate that. I hate feeling bigger and stronger than a guy. Call me too hetero-normative, but whatever.

He loved my bright blue, lacy bra and matching panties. He started to dry hump me, but didn’t actually touch me. I know I’m saving certain things for marriage…but if you’re dry humping me, don’t you think you could help things out with a finger or two? It was hot how many positions he moves me in and when he tells me that I look beautiful flushed.

Warning Signs #4 & #5:
-He couldn’t get my bra off…hasn’t he practiced? Weird. Unbecoming.
-He didn’t try to finish me. Most guys try. I haven’t had a guy not try.

He kept trying to woo me, talk to me, text me, then called me out for always being busy. But here’s the thing Mr.Kerouac, I expect guys to truly ask me on dates. And I expect to not feel the heebie-jeebies if I think about them touching me again.

Gap Year: Intro

Hello, my lovely unintentional readers who have wondrously started to follow and read my blog, I have some news for you. One of my very greatest friends is the type of friend who knows everyone and is friends with them too. She’s charming, beautiful, and driven. I think her best quality, however, is her ability to encourage her friends to be exactly who they are. Readers, meet Honey Never Rots. Enjoy!

I always have a plan. No, really I do. I have the type of friends that ask “So,Now What?” So a plan is usually a must. At least an outline of a plan.  I don’t always Never follow the plan but I still like to have one.  We ambitious girls sleep a little better with one. Makes us feel better to have answers when people ask us the 5 W’s (who, what, where, when and (most importantly) WHY.)  

So last October my plan was simple.  Quit my mentally-draining-shithole-first-outta-college-job.  Move in with my grandma.  Save money and move to Chicago in 6 months.  I think I told anyone and everyone that would listen. Mind you I’ve only been once on a girls trip and only did tourist shit but I was determined to get there.

Granted, I left myself a lot of room for whatever serendipity would come.  So that’s how October 2013-October 2014 became my “Gap Year” so to speak. Growth was the only thing I felt like I had to do within these next 365 days.


I have traveled…A LOT. Paid off a bill or two. Hired a personal trainer. Lost 20-ish pounds. Thought seriously about saving money. Quit another job. Started a safe job (By safe I mean: decent pay, close commute, doesn’t make me feel drained).

Oh and I met Handy. 




Honey Never Rots

“Actually, I just woke up one day and decided I didn’t want to feel like that anymore, or ever again. So I changed. Just like that.” –Instagram meme lol