A Visit from my First Boyfriend

The other day I was at work, minding my own business, when I got a text. It was from my first boyfriend, we'll call him "Scott" because that's what I called him in this post from last October. (Not to be confused with any other Scott who has appeared in this blog in the past. Completely different Scott).

I should say here that aside from a comment or two on facebook over the years, I have not seen or been in any real contact with this person since I was 18. But to receive a text saying "hey this is Scott, I might be in San Fran later today, wanna hang out?" didn't strike me as that odd. Between school and camp and various jobs I've held over the years, I get texts or emails like this from time to time. Usually with a little more notice, but hey, I can roll with any variety of punches.

I was super busy at work that day so I didn't put too much thought into his visit aside from making some very basic arrangements. I was stressed and so as the night wore on, his texts about flight cancellations and emergency landings and lack of available flights just sort of went in one eye and out the other. I thought we'd have to put our catch-up visit on hold until the next time he had some crazy layover in the city.

But the next day he was in my car, in Santa Rosa, and we were heading to the Russian River Brewing Company. Apparently he's some sort of important beer nerd, so he was pretty excited about this. Like, palms getting sweaty and eyes growing wide and a little bit crazy the closer we got kind of excited. I told him that Paulie and I had a Beatification from RRBC that he could have. His reaction was the same as when I agreed to have sex with him the first time - "Oh...my...god. Are you serious?!" (side note: I tried the beer. I'm incredibly unqualified to do this, but here is my review anyway: Meh.)

As we made our way to the brewery, I asked when he was flying out. He didn't really have an answer for this. Instead he indicated that maybe he'd just "take a bus back," or "rent a car"...when his "money came through." I laughed and said "oh god, is this going to be one of those situations where you show up and just...never leave? Ha ha ha!" He just chuckled and said "heh heh....heh, no....." and looked off into the distance.

For all of my talk about growing up with men and having some sort of insight into the male psyche, sometimes I'm a little slow. It took me several hours and a few subtle clues to figure out that Scott was, perhaps, going through one of those midlife crises during which men look up old girlfriends. Apparently lots of people do it. In fact Paulie did it. So, okay. No big deal. I figured I could dodge whatever intentions he had fairly gracefully. I mean, we were a couple ages ago! It's not like me rejecting him now would break his-- oh, shit. I forgot. I broke that poor young man's heart.

I'd sort of blocked out that detail until we were two beers in and somehow got on the subject of, well, old stuff. He reminded me of the entire winter I thought I had scabies (ahhh, memories). I asked him to refresh my memory on how in the world my mother had ever let us go on a date when I was a mere 14 years old (by using incompetent brothers as chaperones). He said he'd recently found an old picture of me in "that black dress" I wore all the time - the one with shoulder pads that made me look like a skinny football player. Or a short Anthony Kiedis in drag. When I wondered at how he managed to still have such old photos, he said "well, you know, I mean come on - you were my first love...first heartbreak.... Gotta keep those pictures! Heh..." (looks off into distance). As I do in all situations in which I feel awkward (aka - most), I laughed too loudly. Then said "welp, time to head over to MY BOYFRIEND'S HOUSE for dinner!"

How do I get myself in to these situations?! Mike says it's because I'm terribly, terribly naive.

I braced myself for the inevitable question - whatever that would be. I wasn't sure what to expect. But as time went on, it didn't come. Huh, I thought. Maybe he's not pining away for our lost teenage love after all! Hm! Just to be sure, the next day I asked him how he was feeling about all of the big changes happening in his life. Except I worded it more like "so, do you think you're going through some sort of midlife crisis or something?" He asked me to define Midlife Crisis. "You know, you get to a certain age and start questioning all the choices you've made in your life, feeling like the grass is greener elsewhere, regretting things, deciding to try again, take more risks...things like that."

He thought about this for a beat and said "nah, that's been my whole life. My whole life has just been one long midlife crisis. I can handle all this stuff. It's just sort of overwhelming being here with" (here it came - the big, torch-carrying confession...) "Russian River being right down the street from your apartment!"

And that was the end of that.

I realized that actually he'd just gone out of his way to postpone connecting flights, put off some business, and shuttle from San Francisco to Santa Rosa then back again for one simple thing: Beer.

I hope it was worth it!

Dear Diary...

So, this is cool - recently I met with the producers of Mortified. I read to them from my old diaries, they liked what they heard, so I'm going to be in the show. While this in and of itself is kind of a 'dream come true' experience for me, with it came a shocking and terribly depressing discovery:

My love life hasn't changed much since I was in Middle School.

"Oh Amanda," you're thinking, "stop being so self-deprecating all the time, silly! You're greeaaaaat!"  Or maybe you're thinking "she's exaggerating for the sake of the blog. Middle School? Ha! She's funny..."

Allow me to show you some excerpts from my Middle School and then Current diaries. Then you'll get it:

*****

Sept 17th, 1989

     I need someone who will love me! I want to wear a jacket or a class ring and have it mean something! I want a boyfriend so bad!!!! Cute, sweet, mature, kind-hearted, athletic, I want a boyfriend!!!! I have to get a boyfriend so bad.

Sept 29th, 1989
        Well, Matt gave me his ring. I realize now I don’t like him. I have to give it back, but I just can’t. I know I should, I just don’t wanna hurt him. I don’t think it would though, its prolly all just a game to him.
    I love to roller skate. I love to roller skate fast!!
    I think I like Brian.
    

November 15th 1990
    I heard Tony liked me. WOW! 

I wonder if Tony really likes me. I guess I’ll find out, ay?
(later) I’M GOING WITH TONY!!!!!!

November 22nd, 1990 - Thanksgiving
    Tony broke up with me yesterday. We lasted 6 days. 

*****

So, as you can see, I really wanted a boyfriend. I also thought it would be cool to have a boyfriend for more than a few days, or weeks if I was lucky. Yeah, I eventually had a boyfriend for 2 years. I also had a husband for 10 years. But now, things have kind of come...full circle. 

After taking about 6 months off from the whole "men" thing, I decided I was ready to dip my toe into the dating pool. And woo! Boy did I get some swimmin' done! I enjoyed dating, but it got tiresome very quickly. When I finally decided to go the boyfriend route, well...here, read for yourself: 

*****

Sept 8th, 2011
      I find myself only dating (guy who has specifically asked to not be mentioned in my blog), and actually really liking it. He's very chill and easy to be around, very respectful, funny, makes me laugh, etc. I like him very much.

October 1st, 2011
     (Guy who has specifically asked to not be mentioned in my blog) broke up with me, via email - (basically this generation's version of a note handed to you while passing each other in the hallway)

*****

I got over that, I think. And then, the day after I told Mike that I was "off men" for a while, this HOT guy asked me out. How could I say no to someone who looks like a freaking Ken doll and seems legitimately attracted to me, especially when I hadn't washed my hair that day and had six holes in my t-shirt? We went out a few times, had some cuh-razy awesome time together, and one night after some drinks he - much to my surprise - asked me to be his girlfriend. It was adorable. I was pretty drunk, so I said yes. A couple of days later, after some thought, I tried to give him an out and brought it up in an adult, 'let's check-in' conversation. He said that No, he wasn't completely wasted at the time; Yes, he did in fact mean it; and then he assured me that this was happening. 

He dumped me the next day. He was my boyfriend for three days.

Seriously, I didn't even have time to write about him in my Dating Diary!

So mark my words, fans: I am OFF MEN, at least until after the Holidays. Who wants to date during the Holidays? Not this girl! Don't even try, please, I'm begging you. I realize that as soon as I said I'd been dumped - again - my male fans and their friends started a texting brigade and were about to start lining up at my door. But really, just don't bother. 

I have plenty of space in my journal for after the Holidays.

Ode to my Second Boyfriend

When I was way too young, I had a boyfriend, we'll call him "Scott." We dated for two years, from the time I was 14 until 16, at which point I dropped him like a well-built, soccer-playing, Nirvana-loving sack of bricks. I can't remember why right now, but he was NOT happy about it. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'll always be The One That Got Away, which is pretty awesome for my ego. High Five!

Coming out of my first major relationship, I met this dark, emo guy at an arts & crafts show (what? What teenagers don't hang out at arts & crafts shows?) We'll call him "Colin." We didn't last very long, he was actually kind of a dick to me, but after he found me about 13 years later on Facebook, he apologized. Apologies go a long way with me.

When Colin found out that I'd separated from my husband, about a year or so after we'd e-reconnected, he immediately called dibs on me - whatever that means. He had a girlfriend at the time, and I was still very man-shy, so I wrote it off as a joke.

A month or so later, my friend Jessica was in town and we were wine tasting on my birthday. I got a message from Colin to call him, so of course I did, given the facts that I was super drunk, and Jessica was wandering around, ignoring me, taking pictures of everything like a tourist.

Thus began my first post-marriage relationship.

Yes, Colin was my boyfriend after the TWO most significant relationships in my life. And this time he was older, wiser, funnier, had a reliable job and car, and had abs that I could see the definition of on a fuzzy cell phone photo.

Over the next two months or so, Colin and I exchanged about 25,000 texts, pictures, phone calls and emails. When I woke up each day I'd be greeted with something like "Good morning Sunshine Face!!!" and the texts would go on like that all day and into the night. I would come home to find packages at my doorstep - weird little gifts that he would send out of the blue - a Snuggie, llama slippers, the game Canoodle, a leaf blower. Yes, a leaf blower. I fell deeply and madly in love with him after that one. I'm not kidding.

The main problem with our relationship was that Colin lived really far away. As in, somewhere in the middle of the country. So technically, he was only my e-boyfriend. And I hearted him. And then he dumped me. For another woman.

If you think that being dumped by your husband of 10 years for another woman sucks, try then being dumped by your e-boyfriend of 2 months, for the same reason. This was his excuse: he went to some party, he looked SUPER hot (yes, photos were exchanged all day, every day, so I know that he was on fire that night), he ran into his ex-girlfriend (who had cheated on him while he was out of town, thus causing the breakup in the first place), she gave him some bullshit story that he fell for, and viola! I was single again.

It took a while to nurse the wounds from this, and to come to terms with the fact that no matter how cool a guy finds me, there will probably always be someone better than me out there. And he will find her. And he will dump me for her. But that's cool, I'm fine now. Ahahahaha, I'm fine! I'm fine!

I deleted all of the pictures he'd sent me, all of the texts (though now I wish I had them to use here, they were really creative and heart-warming and funny and - I'm fine! I'm fine!) I sent back all of the gifts (well, I let my son keep the llama slippers). I cried unreasonably. I got over it.

So now we're friends again, and he's still with this girlfriend-that-cheated-on-him-while-he-was-out-of-town. Now he's out of town again. Recently, over a matter of two days, we went from him desperately asking for my opinion on whether I think his girlfriend is sleeping with someone else based on a picture he saw on Facebook, to him buying her a house. Yes, I said Buying Her A House. It seems as though his girlfriend wants this house. And she can't afford it. And so she thinks they should buy it, "together." The last time I checked in, he said he needed to give her power of attorney since he's in another country and can't be there to sign the papers. To buy this house. That he's only seen pictures of. With the woman he thought was cheating on him a week before.

Can someone please explain to me why the full-package guys end up with the crazies? I mean, obviously he, too, has lost his mind, but seriously. I'm baffled. I'm also so glad that we didn't end up together. I mean, puh, who wants a boyfriend that loves you so much he'll buy you a fucking house? Am I right? Ladies?

I'm totally fine now.

I Love Men! (as friends...deal with it)

Okay people, I give you good cheer pretty much every time I post on this blog of ours. I think I deserve to bitch and mope a bit, don't you? Because if not, then I need a little time before I can be funny again. I'm just not feelin' it.

Why, you ask? Well. I'll tell you.

Its old news that I got dumped by my husband of 10 years. Not so old news that I got dumped by my e-boyfriend (blog post forthcoming). Then someone adored me, but I wasn't ready for adoration, so I dumped him (for the record, that was really hard to do, and I still feel terrible about it). Then I took a deep breath, dove in, and adored someone, and he dumped me. So, as you can see, my track record is not so fabulous right now.

The Husband of my Friend recently asked me if I was beginning to think it was something about me, and not the guys. I hadn't exactly 'gone there' yet, but since he brought it up, I had to admit that yes, I do wonder what the heck is wrong with me. I mean, when I get enough sleep and wear makeup and clean clothes that fit, I look okay, I think. I don't take myself too seriously. I have a bawdy sense of humor. I have a job, at which I am my own boss. After 34 years I finally discovered that bedroom stuff is fantastic. I read a lot. I don't think I'm crazy (save the week or so of PMS, woooo! watch out). I can handle my own in social situations. I can easily entertain myself. I belong to a book club full of wonderful women with a variety of personalities, and I like them all. I get along well with men.

Oh. Wait. There it is: I get along with men.

Right, riiiiggggght. This is not always okay. Sometimes I forget that men and women are so terribly different - from different planets, in fact - we are actually not all just flailing human beings with the same or similar insecurities, hopes, agendas and grand schemes and dreams, and should therefore avoid socializing platonically with each other and only hang out when we intend to make out and/or procreate. I forgot that deeply ingrained rule. I'll admit that sometimes I am absentminded.

This sucks because I actually like a lot of men. Some of my oldest friends are men, in fact, and I'll be sad to let them go just so I can get a boyfriend to accept me for who I am. Or, who I will be, as soon as I dump my friends. Sorry Frank (friends since 2nd grade - shown, left), and Nayt (friends since 6th grade - shown, bottom right), Tony (friends since high school) and Adam, Jagen, Rich, Chris, Paul, etc etc etc etc (and lets not forget Mike). Sorry guys, but I didn't realize that its not okay to have you as friends. I've really appreciated your insight and perspectives over the years. I've survived off of your support when things got shitty, and loved all of the healing, gut-splitting laughter when things were really shitty. You thankfully taught me that there are some really, really good men in this world. You guys were the best, I mean it. You helped develop my soul and the person that I am today.

I'll miss you. But I know you understand, right? Because it was a guy who dumped me for having too many guys for friends...so, as guys yourselves, you're okay being dumped for being the guys that are my friends...right?

Oh, wait again. I may have done some pre-blog Feeling Sorry For Myself via email to a friend of mine. He has an amazing knack for reminding me of who I am, and how I got here. This is what he had to say today: get off your ass and stop moping. Think about how positive you have been lately. That wasn't because of someone else, that was because of you and what you have accomplished. You don't need anyone else to make you feel good about yourself. Besides, you've got a mirror, a divorce-diet body, and a hitachi... what else does a girl need?

Indeed.

So yeah...you know what? I think I'll keep my friends. All of them. The girl ones, the boy ones. The new ones, the old ones. These people are part of me, of who I am, and fuck if I'm going to ditch them for some dude. Okay?

Okay. Just so we're clear.