Category Archives: The Blog Crush

Nothing Happened

For background on this post (or, in order to understand what the hell I am talking about), go here.

I told my mom.

I had planned on telling her the day after the nothing/something had happened, but I felt too sick, too… scared. I had no idea how she would react. At best, I reasoned, she wouldn’t care. At worst, she would disown me. I understood, from a rational perspective, that my mom did love me, that our relationship was solid, etc., but I was still worried, I didn’t want to freak her out. She’s pretty Christian, after all… and Christians are pretty notorious for going around flinging the ‘S’ word (sin) at anyone and everyone in a same-sex relationship. Not that I was in one… but still.

I had, however, gotten up the nerve to talk to her about sex… or more precisely, to tell her that I might not be waiting until marriage to have it. That was step enough. It had taken all the boldness I could muster just to tell her what I meant (rather than continue on with my vague dithering about “things she might not approve of,” etc.) Surprisingly, she did not tell me that sex was absolutely forboden… that I would be cast out of the family immediately upon having it, nor did she ever use the ‘S’ word… not even once.

The talk was a big step, and only after we’d finished talking did I realize how big a deal it really was. I had been seriously slacking! Here I was, the oldest out of three, thinking that any subversive behavior would be grounds for dis-ownership… or at least a week-long lecture! How were my younger siblings ever going to be able to talk about these things if I couldn’t?

After the talk, I put the events (or non-events) of that haunting night out of my mind. I couldn’t think about it anymore… at least, not all the time. Instead, I plunged myself back into the warm, welcoming depths of my infatuation with The Blog Crush. I took comfort in its familiarity – tracing our mutual desire over pages of teasing, affectionate notes – and marvelled at its rapid, irrational growth. Sex in words, without the convolution of real life. Soon I was trading in my dreary darks for bright, flirtatious outfits. The self-repression was melting away, and I began to feel myself freed, and happy.

But as with any obsession, I quickly consumed too much. Now it was not just those same haunting memories that made me feel nausious and uncertain… but the over-indulgence of a dependency I myself had created out of my own desperate desire to be wanted.

The feelings I had seemingly developed for my friend did not make me happy. Even after removing all the questions, all the anxieties – instead of feeling myself fallen for her, it was as if she had awakened some deep, primordial need within me. But I would still have to tell her. I liked Evie, and I wanted our friendship to last… keeping secrets was not the way to do this. And even though I now knew that what I wanted was to be her friend and not her lover, I had to face the facts. I was attracted to her, and with all the time me and Evie were used to spending alone together, something could still happen… I could even change my mind… eventually.

Knowing this, I had to tell my mom. If something did end up happening, if I did change my mind, I wanted her to have fair warning.

So I told her.

She was surprised, a little confused, but over all… supportive. I had thought it would be difficult to say to her, but for some reason or another, I had felt so relaxed and self-assured before-hand that I really didn’t experience any of the fear I thought I would.  It was almost as if I had said, “You know mom, I’m thinking about going to medical school…” and she had said, “Really? I would never have guessed that about you.”

(Which, incidentally, is what she said about my crush. But not in a disapproving way, thank God!)

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Filed under Evie, Happiness, I Think I Have a Crush, Love, Lust, The Blog Crush

Love Stinks

I think the Blog Crush may have gone off me (read: stopped liking me) a bit since I wrote that rather long-winded post (now embedded in my mind as The  Epic Mistake post!*) Which is sad. But also great! Because it adds some much needed context to this video….

And to think I’d almost forgot about the genius that is this song –

Update: The Blog crush and I have broken up. Don’t ask from what. I really couldn’t say (because I really don’t know!)

Also, I’m very sorry the video cut out before you could see Adam Sandler get punched in the face. It’s very cathartic.

And yes, I will post a real blog again soon. You know, one with some actual content? I Promise.

* I have since re-named this post from “Good Luck Reading My Mind, It’s a Real Piece of Work” to “The Epic Mistake Post.” It just fit better!

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Filed under Happiness, I am an Embarrassment to Myself, Love, The Blog Crush

The Big Blog Set-Up

This coming weekend I will be exposed to one of the more risky aspects of dating… The Terrifying Set-Up.

Okay, really I am not terrified at all. I already know where we will be going (karaoke – score!), what I will be wearing (casual black tank, dark-wash skinny jeans – laid back and hot, if I do say so myself… which incidentally I do… obviously) and how I will be feeling (impossible you say? maybe, but I do tend to rise to the challenge of a good first-impression!)

I do not, however, know very much about The Guy. Except for, you know, the really important things… like

– He’s Italian (hot)

– He has a job (though I can’t remember what it is, which probably means it sounded boring)

-And last, but certainly not least, he looks like Justin Long (YES)

Now, under any normal circumstances, I would most likely recoil at the thought of being set-up with some working-stiff-office-type-who-I-know-very-little-about, but this time is a bit different (although honestly, I’m not getting my hopes up… really, I swear!)

I am more than willing to at least meet this guy for a few reasons (other than the fact that he is rumored to look like my favorite stand-in for Mac computers),  one of them being that I might actually have had a bit of a mental growth-spurt over the last couple weeks (no, seriously… that wasn’t a joke!) Also, the fact that I have been harboring “feelings” for someone I have never met before (the Blog-Crush) has led me to reason that perhaps I should start getting out of the house more often.

I have been set-up on only a couple of occasions in the past, and neither of these went off very spectacularly to say the least.

The first time was by my mom’s friend (and she swears this wasn’t a set-up), when she introduced me to a cute British boy who was staying in the area for the summer (although at this point the summer was almost over… shotty execution in my opinion). We were introduced in a movie theater, right before a showing of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (mom’s friend had an extra ticket, plus it’s possible I am obsessed… just possible I said, don’t give me that look!)

Luckily, watching said movie called for silence, because I seriously doubt we would’ve had anything to talk about. (This theory, incidentally, was pretty much proven correct once we were out of the theater, waiting for the rest of the group to get out of the bathrooms, and found ourselves with almost nothing to say.)

Still, he seemed impressed with me (I have a killer walk) and he later asked my mom’s friend if he could have my e-mail address. I gave it to her to give to him (LAME) but he never used it (Lamer). And to be honest, it wasn’t much of a loss when he didn’t. Sure he was cute, sure he was British (and yes, the accent was good), but he still somehow just wasn’t my type. He was… a boy. (As in, very young in demeanor) And, as far as I could tell, not much with the jokes. ‘Nuff said… right? (For what it’s worth, I know first impresions are hard! No judgment, I swear.)

Fast forward to this past December (I think) and the same friend tries to set me up with another guy. Only this time it’s different… this time:

a) She fully admits that it’s a set-up (actually tells me, “Now before you do that Amber thing and roll your eyes and give me that lookat which point I’m thinking, “Shit, people can tell when I do that?”)

b) She’s not the only one trying to fix me up with this guy (unbeknownst to me, it’s actually a whole clique of women who think this would be a good idea. Probably because they are all married, and imagine that their younger, single selves would want to date this person.)

So I meet him. I think, why the hell not? It’s not as if I’m obligated or anything… And actually, it’s not as if I even have to meet him in any date-type-situation, because when we’re introduced, it’s at an event full of people… which is pretty fortunate, because…

I don’t like him. Almost immediately after shaking hands and exchanging names, I can tell I don’t like him. But, for a moment, I’m not sure why. There is a bit of  suspense, and then he says it…

“So, do you go to any fellowship groups?”

“Umm… no, not really.” I say, casually, trying not to laugh, etc.

“Why not?” he asks me, very earnestly, and then proceeds to invite me to his fellowship group, which meets every week and blah-blah-blah. I’m no longer listening, just wondering when exactly is too soon to leave this kind of conversation gracefully. Luckily, his sales-pitch hits a lull, and I excuse myself to go do some fake, nondescript thing that I can no longer remember. A few minutes later, my mom’s friend eyes me from across the room and cocks her head as if to say “what happened?” I shake my head in a just-violent-enough manner to let her know that I am not having it, and that my decision is non-negotiable. She pouts, and I move on.

(To be frank, I don’t have anything against the religious set per-se. I used to be religious. And it’s all good… that is, until you look at me like a project or use the word “fellowship” to describe something other than Tolkein’s work of fiction, or the film that followed.)

I am hopeful that this set-up will not be like either of the two that proceeded it, and especially not like the latter one, but I remain realistically skeptical. I am intrigued, but not necessarily excited. (I remain un-excited on purpose because I find that I am nicer to people when they haven’t just crushed my hopes into oblivion.)

To cap off, I would just like to say that I have recently become aware of my snobbish tendencies (and am currently wondering if it has anything to do with my “wait until you meet the exact right person” upbringing), as well as my relative inability to give anyone a second chance (unless, of course, I have already decided that I like them.) So going into this, I am making a wildly revolutionary idea to be more… you guessed it… open minded!

If nothing else, I will meet someone new… and if that falls flat, at least there will be karaoke!

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Filed under Happiness, Harry Potter, Horrifying everyday stuff, The Blog Crush

The Big Blog Crush*

(*Damnit, does this mean I have to start referring to him as the BBC?)

There has recently been a rather shocking development in the land of The Weirdo (i.e. me)… one with so much inexplicable importance that it simply MUST be documented. This phenomenon, as it is now like to be called, is nothing other than a very big BLOG-CRUSH. That’s right, you heard it here first… blog-crush mania is sweeping the nation (as well as all the other nations, I assume) and I have been unable to escape its steely grasp! Finally succumbing to the inevitable lure of a love that dare not speak its name (no, not that love, the other one… no, not that one either… Ah, forget it!) I have found myself imprisoned in the chaotic mess of my own head…. again.

But wait a minute, didn’t you just have a fake relationship?! Like a second ago? Didn’t it end badly?! Yes, yes I did… and it did. Basically yes to all three. But wait! This is different! And here’s why:

1. I do not know the BBC in real life (Ack, terrible! Sorry, British Broadcasting Corp!) This means that,

a) I cannot make a total fool of myself by making inappropriate advances in inappropriate places (not that I ever did that, I swear)… I can however make inappropriate advances on Twitter… which I do, like, all the time. (No valley-girl jokes, please!)

and

b) There was never any real need to decide whether or not I should tell him… So, I “told him” right away. I mean really, what’s going to happen? Worst case scenario – he’s totally creeped-out and I simply stop Twittering. (Did that make anyone else think of the word “twitterpated”? No? No one has seen “Bambi”? Okay…)

2. The fact that all the flirting will lead to nothing is already well-established, because… well… he lives really far away! Also, the flirting has been relatively tame. Which means that,

a) We don’t have any fake children… yet. (Fake children are disastrous for many reasons… but mainly I’m just glad not to have to carry around that fake diaper-bag anymore. God, that thing was monstrous!)

and

b) I feel absolutely no need to decipher between flirtatious texts (i.e. “Does this mean the usual makeup sex?”, etc.) and the probability that he actually wants to go in the back room and make out. Wonderful.

I know what you’re thinking,

Right, having a blog-crush is fine. But you’re clearly insane. Do you realize there are other live humans right outside who you could actually… I don’t know… have a conversation with?!

And yes, I do realize that…
I realize that I am cultivating an attraction which can only go to waste;

I realize that if, in reality, we ever did meet, the chances of us both being attracted to eachother are very slim (because really, human chemistry is so un-predicatble);

And I realize that yes, I am incredibly lazy and should probably attempt to meet more people who are more easily accessible… ones that say, live within the same state, or hey, even the same city!

I realize all these things, and yet, I can’t help but like someone I barely even know, someone I’ve never actually met.

So what is my problem? Am I just so fed up with being rejected that even thinking about getting to know someone else is exhausting? I don’t really think so…

But maybe, just like so many other girls with their romance-novels, or sappy movies, or… umm, Twilight anything… I simply wanted to experience something fictional for a while. To believe I was falling for someone who could be (nearly) perfect, if only for the reason that he did not exist in my real life. Maybe it is easier to fall in love with someone when you don’t have all the facts… when you don’t have to deal with/adore all their little idiosyncricies… when you don’t have to learn to communicate with them in a way you can both understand… when they can’t see you, and all your finer flaws. Maybe, just maybe, fake love is a viable way to exercise real passion… a passion that I quite honestly have no other outlet for.

But then, wouldn’t it be nice to be able to kiss someone I could actually feel?

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Filed under I Think I Have a Crush, Lust, The Blog Crush