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...

The man I almost married

Broadway and I have been casually emailing back and forth for the past month, sending each other links to interesting articles and pictures of cute animals.

Today, there was a huge Comcastic blackout of the internet in/around Boston, and he helped me to circumvent it and then to fix my router following it. After everything was working again, I sent a self-deprecating email about how the internet is too complicated for me. He replied with a harsh denouncement of his misspent youth messing around with computers, followed by:

"That's how cool I was as a kid. The man you almost married. Near miss."

Tears gushed out on the spot when I read that, and I cried for Broadway all over again. I cried that I couldn't be the one to make him happy. I cried for how solemnly he leads his life. I cried for how much weight he always has on his shoulders, mostly self-imposed and unnecessary. I cried for not knowing when he'll find his actual special someone who will be with him for the rest of his life. I cried for me not being able to make the sacrifice and just be happy with him. I cried for how much I still care and love him, and I cried for how much that love and care isn't the kind that makes me want to commit my whole life to him.

In the same way, I cry for HB too, but I kinda have to try a little to get the tears going. In the end, I know that HB will be okay. He'll do just fine for himself. He's got that right balance of slight cynicism with naive arrogance to get himself through, or at least to convince himself he's doing the best that he possibly can, and what he can ain't all that bad. He goes through life with no weight on his shoulders.

He loves me, but he'll do just fine without me.

Thanksgiving

I posted a Craigslist ad on Monday asking for a fancy dinner date on Thanksgiving. For the most part, the pretty ones wrote boring emails, and the funny ones weren't pretty. By midday Wednesday, I had it narrowed down to three guys ... but then I had a total change of heart for the cheesy.

A couple had invited me for Thanksgiving at their place, but I told them I was considering a CL date, which I think hurt them a little bit. On Wednesday, I suddenly got all emotional about the silly holiday and realized that I didn't want to waste it on a random, potentially excruciating, date. I'd rather spend it close to friends, and my couple friend were happy and told me they were really glad with my decision :)

As for the CL men, I promptly asked each of them if we could reschedule for drinks sometime over this coming weekend. All three agreed, so this might be a fun-filled weekend after all, or at the very least, a story-filled weekend.

In other news, Special Friend made me pretty mad yesterday. A big group of us partied at his house last night, but he flirted with this other girl the whole time. I realize that there's nothing concrete between us and that he has every right to flirt with other people (I mean, hell, I'm going on dates myself), but doing it in my presence is a pretty dickish move.

I kept my own flirting under control, even with another guy at the party who was obviously trying to flirt with me. I'd always move away or pull someone else into the conversation. Special Friend needs to have the same level of respect for me and not talk with another girl for two hours off in a corner by themselves.

At one point, he and his roommate decided to go to 7-11 for some snack refills. He loudly asked the whole room, while glancing at me, "Does anyone want to come with us to 7-11?"

I don't play this game. If he wants me to go with him to 7-11, he needs to ask me directly. I'm not going to bite on his passive aggressive question, posed to the whole room, hoping that I would somehow rise to the challenge.

Of course, the girl whom he'd been flirting with pipes up and says that she wants to go to 7-11. That made me want to go even less. I don't play his passive aggressive question-asking game, and I definitely don't play the fighting-for-territory game. If she wants to throw herself at him, be my guest. I'm not tagging along to fight her for my share of his attention.

I secretly smirked at the disappointed and slightly awkward look on his face when she volunteered to go. I grabbed another beer and sat back down on the couch, smug.

He asked the room again, "Does anyone else want to come?" I went on drinking and talking and ignored his question.

Eventually he came over to me and asked, "Hey, do you want to come to 7-11?" I played hard to get and claimed that it was cold outside, and I couldn't find my jacket. His SISTER, overhearing me say this, piped up, "Oh, you can borrow my jacket!"

Special Friend saw the bone that his sister threw him, snatched the jacket, threw it on me and out the door we went. It was indeed cold, so he grabbed my hand with his and put both our hands in his jacket pocket as we walked. This would normally be completely adorable, but there, 5 steps in front of us, was the girl he'd been flirting with the whole night.

I guess I won in the end - he picked me over this random girl - and I won without ever fighting. Hell, his SISTER picked me over this other girl. But the win didn't feel glorious. I'm still mad that he would overtly flirt with other women in my presence. Either he's completely oblivious to my feelings, or he's trying to play games and get me jealous.

Both are not cool, and I'm not playing.

In which there is a whirlwind of men

I went crazy this week, and I might now be done (full disclosure post ahead). I had two nights of heavy drinking, hooked up with two different men, regretted one, and suffered two days of hangovers.

Thursday night started with karaoke with a group of friends, including Special Friend, and ended with Special Friend naked in my bed. We didn't hit the homer but was well past third base. I now think back on the experience with fond memories, but we were both very stoned at the time, fumbled around a lot, and were both very paranoid that the other person was not comfortable. The next day, Friday, I asked if we could talk. He readily agreed, and we had a nice adult conversation about the whole thing. We laughed and agreed that we were actually both very comfortable with how things went, and that the paranoia came purely from being stoned.

He is however, worried about me rebounding, but since neither one of us have concrete expectations, we decided to just see how things go.

Friday night started with one of my labmates inviting me to go clubbing with him and a couple of buddies. Excited, I got all dolled up and met up with everyone downtown. Next thing I knew, Labmate and I were pounding drinks, grinding on the dance floor, rushing out the club to grab a cab ... and then I don't remember anything until I discovered myself naked in his bed with my clothes strung all over his floor. Still drunk, we had sex, which honestly was pretty disgusting. He wanted me to spend the night, but I had sobered up significantly by this point and preferred to wake up in my own bed. He insisted on walking me home, which was pretty sweet in retrospect. In front of my place, I realized that I had no inkling of attraction to him and couldn't even bring myself to kiss him good night.

Saturday night, I went on an actual date for an LTR (long-term relationship). I knew within 5 minutes of sitting down to dinner that I had no interest in the guy and was highly annoyed by his personality ... and he had theater tickets for after dinner so I was in for at least 3 more hours. He ordered a drink, but I stuck to my water, explaining that he caught me on a bad day as I was still nursing a hangover. He laughingly joked that the best way to cure a hangover was to drink more, and I laughed along. I realized he was serious when he called the server over to order me a Bud Light. A bit annoyed, but wanting to stay polite, I intercepted and ordered myself a hefeweisen.

When asked me what I planned to eat, I replied "fish and chips" - my favorite dish at the pub that we went to. He insisted that I simply could not get the fish and chips, and that I should save the fish and chips for when we go see a movie. I stared at him blankly, honestly a bit shocked, but trying to decide if this was also a joke (he giggled the whole time). He then very condescendingly said (though I'm sure he saw it as being a generous gentlemen) that I needn't worry about the *cost* of my dish since this dinner was on him, implying that I had ordered fish and chips because it was cheap (it wasn't, it was $14, kind of a ripoff actually for fish & chips at a pub).

Realizing this wasn't a joke, I remained cordial but firm, saying that I wasn't trying to be polite - I really do very much love the fish and chips at this restaurant. He wouldn't have any of it and proceeded to argue that if I insisted on ordering the fish and chips, he would have to take matters into his own hands and pick something for me. He then ordered me a meat-heavy entree consisting of every kind of meat imaginable grilled, the last thing that I wanted. I ate very little of my plate (too heavy, exactly what my hungover head did NOT need) and silently fumed through the entire dinner, lamenting the fact that I would have really liked to have been eating fish & chips instead.

I eventually finagled my way out of the second half of the play (he had lost interest by then as well) and met up with a friend working at a coffee shop to gripe. Special Friend was working late but finishing around this time too, so I made plans to leave the coffee shop and head his way, maybe grab a beer together. By the time we met up around 11:30, we both preferred something even more chill and just took a brisk walk around the neighborhood. Dropping me off at my place, he gave me a delicious good-night kiss. There is potential indeed in this Special Friend.

I also had a couple of other "dates" with guys who responded to a CL post I made asking for no-strings-attached (NSA) fun ranging from making out to whatever we felt comfortable with. I had lunch with one of the guys, who was a decently nice and normal person but completely not my type. I made coffee plans with another, but was honestly rather exhausted by men at this point, so I canceled it.

I suppose this was the whirlwind of singledom that I wanted, expected, and felt constrained from by HB, Broadway, and whatever other serious relationship. But, it's honestly not that fun. I really regret having sex with my labmate, beyond just the fact that he is my labmate and we have to see each other in lab every day. (To his credit, he came by to say hi to me today and really tried hard to made it as normal as it could be considering.)

There was no connection or attraction to Labmate (at least not on my end, he claimed that he'd always been attracted to me from the day he joined our lab 4 years ago). I love making out with guys, and I didn't even want to kiss him. Sex for the sake of sex was not the fun and liberating experience that I fantasized it being. It wasn't fun at all, and I regretted it the next day.

My conclusion is that meaningless hookups just don't cut it for me. The thought of having a stranger in my bed is extremely riveting and exciting, but actually having a stranger in my bed is disgusting.

That's a good realization to have, that sometimes fantasies are just fantasies. Trying to bring fantasies alive doesn't always work because reality gets in the way, and my reality is that I don't really want to sleep with a lot of people. So going forward, I'm not sure what I'll do. Maybe I'll still try CL every now and then (low commitment, easy), but posts for casual drinks and flirting with no path/expectations for more, emotionally or physically.

The night with Labmate was also the first time I've ever blacked out from drinking, not able to remember whole chunks of the night. I don't want that to happen again. I enjoy a bit to drink, and it is fun, but I need to be more aware and have more self-control about knowing when to stop. I highly doubt I would have gone home with Labmate if I were cognizant of my surroundings.

As for HB and Broadway, I'm starting to get the clarity that I've been seeking, but I'll save that for another post.

in which he loves me

HB called me this afternoon, having come home completely drunk after a night of whiskey with his boys who want to say goodbye in Beijing.

We said "i love you" back in July when we first started officially dating, but then I didn't feel it anymore so I stopped. It's been a long time since either one of us has said the l-word.

In his drunken state, HB told me "I fucking love you." We were talking about very unrelated things.

And then some point later in the conversation, he said, "Never fucking doubt how much I love you. Never."

I still think we have a chance together, but not right now. Right now, I need to go out and be unconstrained in this world, no matter how much he loves me. I kinda do hope that whenever I manage to figure my stuff out, HB will still be there for me.