The men/boys

I might have a job (if I ever graduate). They told me yesterday that they'd like to give me an offer, but with end of the year administrative craziness, the company board won't be able to approve a job offer until January. After the approval, HR will draw up an official offer for me.

Token Male Friend asked me if I felt more focused after this turning point. We've both been suffering from general lack of motivation and often seek each other out for mid-afternoon coffee breaks that turn into dinner into ice cream into any other excuse we can conjure up to avoid doing work. I told him that focus remains to be seen, but yes, perhaps I will be more motivated now to write my thesis.

"You're also addicted to boys," he said. Where'd that come from? I thought we were talking about jobs and finishing grad school?

But it's true. I am addicted to boys.

Special Friend and I had a drunken heart-to-heart after that night at the Cantab. After abruptly leaving our friends, we went back to my place. In between passionate make-out sessions in bed, we laid out a lot of our inner issues. The problem is that Special Friend can't bear his heart unless he is drunk, which usually means that I am also drunk, which then means that I don't remember much of the conversation the following morning.

The things I do remember:

1. He suffers greatly from general anxiety. He presents a suave exterior, but fights daily internal battles fretting, worrying, overanalyzing, and reading too much into things.
2. One of his greatest anxieties is sexual performance. Despite our multiple nights of sleepovers, we've only had sex once, about a week before this Cantab night. He had a really hard time (or rather a soft time). He apologized profusely, repeatedly reassuring me that it's not because I don't turn him on. I remember that he followed it all up quietly with, "This never happens with girls I don't care about."
3. He's intimidated by my self-assured nature, but that's one of the main things that he finds attractive about me. Other qualities include: pretty, smart, athletic, but mostly confident and self-assured.
4. He feels his friends are being unfair when they call him a "heartbreaker," but I don't remember why.
5. He asked me what kind of men I like, and I said "manly man."

In the morning, hoping to continue the soul-bearing while sober, the first thing I said was "So you WERE uncomfortable all those times we hooked up." He didn't take the bait and instead turned the tables.

"I feel like you've gotten me all figured out, but I hardly know anything about you."

"What would you like to know?" I asked.

"What's something you like about yourself?"

After some thought, I came up with, "I can talk to anybody. I don't mind idle chit chat at parties and can usually engage most people in some form of fun conversation."

"What's something you wish you could change about yourself?"

Some more thought, "I wish I could be more empathetic. I often think people should just 'suck it up', and I wish I could see beyond that and be less judgmental."

"How do you feel about me being 25?"

"It bothered me at first, but honestly, I don't think about it anymore. How do you feel about me being 28?"

"I always think older women are sexier, and 28 is the sexiest age."

I laughed. "You're never serious when you're sober."

"I am being serious! I'm tired of breaking young girls' hearts."

He smiled. I rolled my eyes.

"Do you want to go to Wendy's?"

I smiled, leaned over, and gave him a kiss.

Other men to come: the Tall One, the Alum.

Dunning-Kruger

As you all know, HB moved back to Chicago about a month ago (has it really only been a month?). He quickly got a new US phone on the Verizon network and sent me a text within minutes of activating it.

"This message is free since we both have verizon :)"

I replied with a question: "Are texts free between verizon phones too?"

He replied, "Yes! Free texts!"

He'd just gotten his phone and calling plan information from the Verizon store, so who am I to argue? I did bring it up in a later conversation over the phone, adding that I knew in-network calling to be free but was unsure about text. He assured me again that texts were in fact also free between Verizon phones. Wow, sweet!

So HB and I texted each other like maniacs through the month of December in our very complicated undefined non-relationship. I felt a tinge of guilt because Special Friend and I text a lot too, maybe even more than HB and I. But no matter. SF is also on Verizon! Free texts to the world!

Today, Verizon sent me an automated text warning that I am nearing my usage limit. Logging into my account, I see that I have actually already exceeded my SMS limit for the month. Curious, I downloaded the detailed usage data into excel to see who my best texting friends are:

#1: Special Friend

#2: HB

#3: Jabba

#4: Frisbee Buddy

What?? Special Friend and HB top the list? I thought Verizon-to-Verizon texts were free? Why are their texts counting toward my usage limit?

Right around this time, Token Male Friend IMed me on his daily boredom-relieving mission. I started to tell him the story and only got as far as "I thought texts were free between Verizon phones" before he interrupted me to ask, "Who told you that?"

I answered, "HB."

I felt like an idiot as soon as I said it. Token Male Friend's response said it all: he laughed in all caps over IM.

His point? HB is highly un-tech-savvy. I should have known from the start that HB's information regarding anything technology-related would be suspect. TMF called me a silly girl.

Then I got mad. I got inexplicably mad at HB, but I couldn't verbalize why I was so mad. Was it because of the confident and flippant way HB assured me his information was correct? Or because of my own lapse in judgment for believing him? Or because this made me realize that if HB and I were together, I wouldn't ever really be able to count on him?

Finally, I was able to delineate to TMF my reasons for wanting to throw things:

1) HB's general confusion about the world. He is just not on top of things, and he doesn't know how things work.

2) His confidence regarding how much he knows about the world around him, despite actually being quite confused.

3) His utter ignorance that he is confused. His utter ignorance that he and does not, in fact, fully understand a situation.

Case in point: Verizon text messages. Such a small, seemingly trivial thing, yet so representative of his general approach to life: a naive arrogance.

I can't even complain that his confidence is false. It's real confidence because he truly believes that he knows the answers. He's not overtly arrogant - he doesn't flaunt his intelligence or knowledge. But he fundamentally does not realize that HIS KNOWLEDGE IS WRONG or even may be lacking.

And that frustrates me to the point that I want to throw things. I am finally able to pinpoint the precise reason I never could lean on him even when we were together. I distrust his analytical and problem-solving process. I question every assertion that he makes.

I think this pretty much settles whether or not HB and I could ever get back together in a serious way. I would want to throw things everyday in our life together.

I would still jump the man at a heartbeat, though.

Friday night

We planned a lunch date, albeit a late 2pm lunch date. Things came up work-wise for him though, so he asked to reschedule to a 5pm lunch date. I had plans already for the early evening, so we further postponed to a 9pm lunch date at our favorite neighborhood Wendy's.

He texted me around 8pm to say he'd gone drinking with his buddies, and would I like to join him for beers instead of Wendy's.

Annoyed, I said no, and settled in with my roommates for a movie night at home.

30 minutes into the movie, an unknown number called me. It was a friend's boyfriend. He was out and had met up with Special Friend and his crew. "We're headed to the Cantab, and Special Friend would really like for you to come," the boyfriend said.

He couldn't call me himself after flaking out on me twice already today? What kind of passive aggressive behavior is this?

"His phone died, so he's really asking me to beg you to come."

Ah, so he's drunk, and coming out of his protective aloof protective shell and enlisting the help of a mutual friend to convince me to come out.

I gave in like the silly girl that I am, bundled up, and walked the 5 blocks to Cantab. They were all waiting in line. The downstairs show got too popular, the bar filled to capacity, and the bouncers weren't letting anyone else in. I walked outside onto the sidewalk to take a call, and SF walked out after me. Interesting ...

He then motioned for me to follow him down the street. Even more interesting ... Are we leaving everyone else?

He led me around the block to the back of the club, where a couple of people were smoking cigarettes out a back door. Smiling and making idle chit chat as we walked by them, he led me swaggering through the back door that the smokers were holding open with their feet. We walked right into the downstairs show. Didn't fight through bouncers and didn't even pay the cover.

He asked me if I wanted a drink. I know money's tight for him, so I never let him pay for anything (not that he's ever truly offered), but after everything he put me through that day, he better at least buy me a beer. So yes, I do want a drink, thank you very much.

The rest of our group joined us shortly thereafter (the bouncer loosened up, we guessed). Everyone was at least a few drinks in by then (SF & friends pre-gamed, and I had a few beers at home during the movie), so it didn't take long before everything became a giddy blur.

Someone spotted a group of guys right in front of us and wondered if they were gay. I insisted that they were not, only to have my judgment repeatedly questioned by everyone else.

"Fine," I said, "I'll just go and ask them if they're gay." One guy's eyes popped open, questioning my sincerity, daring me to actually do it, calling me on out on my bravado.

Whatever. I'm tipsy and have nothing to lose. I left my safe friend circle and walked up to the tallest and cutest one of the questionably-gay group.

"Hey, I have a question for you."

"Oh really?" he asked, putting his arms around me and pulling me in really close to his body. Seriously? You don't even know me ... maybe you are gay or drunk or both.

"You are sooo incredibly pretty," he continued in an European accent while staring down at me with his gorgeous blue eyes. Oh my, you are not gay, and so very beautiful. I could feel Special Friend's laser-like gaze on the back of my neck. See if I care. He put me through this same thing 2 weeks ago.

I pulled away from Blue Eyes and reported back to my group, "No, I'm pretty sure that they are not gay. And that one there is foreign."

Special Friend very adamantly piped up, "Of course they are gay. Just look at them. Especially that tall one. He is definitely gay." Ah, jealous much?

Blue Eyes and I continued flirting with each other as the band got louder. He really was very drunk, super touchy-feely, always coming by to drape an arm around my shoulder whenever I was within reach. I glanced at Special Friend a few times. Was he seeing this? Yes, yes he was seeing this and pretending to be engrossed in conversation. Who has a conversation when it's 200 decibels at a band show? No, he wasn't really having a conversation. It's just a ruse to cover up his secretive side-glances in my direction, and Blue Eyes' arm around my shoulder.

We eventually decided to leave the bar, and our group of 8 all walked to the Korean's apartment. After some blurry conversation, I announced in a drunken tired stupor that it was time for me to go home. I couldn't keep my eyes open.

So I gathered up my coat, hat, gloves, bag and said my goodbyes. That's when I noticed that Special Friend had also put on his coat. There was no other leaving momentum from anyone else in the group - just me and my irrational need to go home, and Special Friend and his decision to come with me...