Tag Archives: single girls

“I’m just like, really open.”

Apologies followers for the time lapse in posts here, I was dealing with two major situations.
1. The situation of realizing I ALSO like women,
2. Mostly that.

I felt it an appropriate time to tell you all, seeing as how it was #NationalComingOutDay and all, and because I have new dating apps to tell you about that have had about as much success as the ones that came before them (so basically I’m still dating my wine glass) and because now that my new sexuality information is floating out around town and getting people all awkward, I ALMOST forgot to open this up for more awkward with you guys!

First things first, you might have questions. Have I always known, how do you define yourself, have you adopted an Ethiopian child with your wife, yada yada.

Well first no, I did not always KNOW. I had suspicions. That I could usually justify.

My common phrase was “I’m just really open” – I could see myself liking someone of the same sex because I’m just such a forward thinker but ask me if I’m gay and I’ll say “Nope” and then kind of sort of want to never talk to you again.

In college I worked with a girl named Lena and quickly realized I couldn’t stop thinking about her.  I even told friends I had this little crush on her because I couldn’t keep myself from mentioning her name in any conversation it would allow, and you know I’m just so “open to things” but when asked if I could see myself WITH her (meaning all the sex) I said no I didn’t (I did. I absolutely did. And it was dirty.)

Before Lena, I had actually already had several sexual experiences with different girls when I was in middle school/freshmen in high school. My preteen self decided that those experiences were simply “experimenting” and nothing more, though funny that for something I told myself over and over was “not a big deal” it’s interesting that I never told anyone until now, hmm weird..

Growing up in a VERY christian household made the reality of me facing any of these experiences that much more unrealistic. My focus in middle school really trying to get down the members of Nsync and the Backstreet Boys because I had failed many times trying to pretend I knew who the Spice Girls really were, until being over at a friends house and looking at the poster in her room and saying ohhh okay that’s them, must take mental note that Posh is brunette and Sporty is blonde so I don’t mess this up tomorrow at recess. I mean I knew one of their songs at least,  I can sneak my friends cassette player into bed with me just like any other kid. All this to say that trying to navigate any feelings or experiences when I was just trying to get a foothold in non-christian culture was already a lot.

My crush on Lena and and my early “experiments” really started coming to the forefront in the past year. A couple of times I questioned my own signature line, “I’m just a really open person” and was like what does that even fucking mean? Luckily I could always hollow safely back into whatever crush I had on whatever guy at the time and be good.

But as I started to question my signature phrase, I started getting mad. Like really fucking mad.

People who questioned my sexuality were like my new enemies. Poor timing because people just naturally become more curious about your sexual orientation when you’re 26/27 and don’t at least hook up with a guy somewhat regularly.

I got on Eharmony and really began looking to get into a long term relationship with a guy. I needed to be dating and quickly. I wanted to go on more dates to show me how straight I was and to make comments that anyone was making about me irrelevant because I’m with a guy! I’m dating a guy now!

That was the scariest part for me. The part where you know you’re trying to date people to make a point and you KNOW it. You know it’s purposeful, you know it’s to avoid something else, you know it and you can’t un-know it and you need to get into a relationship pronto before this “progresses” like it’s fucking cancer, and basically, YOU KNOW.

When Megan entered my workplace I spent at least three months hating her before I began to think about her romantically, because then it started to become very illogical. If I hate her so much then why do I want to see her? If she’s so awful then why do I wish other people would go away so it can be just us two? If she is the worst like I tell everyone she is, then why do I think about her and I making out in the parking lot after work?

I could sense all the time now that there was something I wasn’t telling people, and I began to shift a small bit of focus on a new line for myself: “I’ll come out whenever the fuck I want to.”

After that I started to become angry if I  felt someone pushing me to do anything really. Even though I hadn’t technically told anyone about this at all, it felt like walls were closing in and everyone was trying to warp me, make me say it.

Finally one day at a training for work, talking about resources for marginalized groups of people, my director places me into a group discussing barriers that members of the LGBTQ community face in getting resources. I was so mad I was shaking.

THIS BITCH IS TRYING TO MAKE ME COME OUT

Which of course was entrenching on my new barely formulated phrase of: “I’ll come out whenever the fuck I want to”

So I joined the group to chat about barriers that members of LGBTQ community faced and heard nothing and focused on nothing and was secretly wishing death upon my director when then she comes around to our table, looks to me, and told me that I would be the one presenting what we had discussed.

I’m sure you can imagine the rage. I’ll summarize:

  • fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyou
  • white hot blazing light searing from my eyes
  • I will literally not present this and you can go to hell

Luckily this all went on in my head and I still have a job. I left the training within four minutes of her telling me I would present. I went to my parents house because they were having a huge birthday party, and my panic was still rising. I said I had a work call to make, got in my car, called my coworker and began to yell. I yelled and yelled until I said “I want to come out whenever I fucking want to come out!!!”

Instantly she got what all this was and she said yes absolutely that is your right. And that was when I began to tell people.

Told my roommate that same night. I had made silent war with him and this coworker I had called earlier because they had been the two making offhanded comments about my sexuality that I had taken as personal attacks/threats, and I had hated them secretly for months, but now they were the people I talked to first.

It’s been so much easier since then. I come out to most people as simply bisexual because it’s easier than explaining what Pansexual is, which is the term I identify with and just fyi I came out as Pans before Miley for the record.

I don’t share this with you guys to get some release, I’ve already been releasing this off of me to people that I love for at least a month now and it’s been wonderful. I took #bivisibilityweek and ran with it!I also don’t share it with you for the joy of receiving uber religious hate mail though I’m sure that will be amusing.

I share this because not only is looking back at how angry I was kind of funny now (especially when you tell your director that you wanted her dead for at least 5 min and she laughs because she put you in that LGBTQ group because the groups were uneven) but I also tell you this in the case that one of you has experienced or is experiencing any small piece of my story.

Whether it’s not knowing who the Spice Girls were either because your parents only let you listen to Amy Grant, or maybe you’ve had experiences like mine and not wanted to ever find the meaning in them, or maybe you see yourself coming out in the future and that’s just really fucking terrifying. All I can say is that it gets better, it really really does get better.

fantasy cloud

I have been in deep mourning all afternoon (drinking lots of wine, listening to some of Miguel’s softer songs) over a boy, but yes just like every story I ever tell he has minimal idea who I am and conversations we’ve had are mostly pleasantries.

Basically I’m the worst that I subject people to stories about what goes on in my mind with these strangers, but if you do feel like being subjected then remember Hudson from my last post? He was a crush potential that was forming after my online date went flat.

Yesterday Hudson arrived at my work after about three weeks of being gone. Gone on a trip? I have no idea but he hasn’t been there. Naturally me being me I presumed our reunion would come with an explanation of his absence, a heartfelt greeting, and the resuming of our natural chat. Instead he ignored me, and got everything he needed as quickly as possible and left.

My mind formed several conclusions, starting out extreme and ending with acceptance. He hates me. He literally loathes me. He hasn’t come in in three weeks specifically to avoid me. He figured out that I liked him and now he doesn’t want to talk to me. He doesn’t care about not seeing me.

Or maybe he isn’t as interested in me as I thought he was.

BINGO.

The fall out of hypothetical relationships is the worst because only you yourself knows that you’re heartbroken, and how do you talk to your friends about a love that blossomed in your mind but only in your mind?

My roommate consequently same time is going through actual stuff with her ex-boyfriend. Should she cut the ties? Should she keep a friends with benefits thing going? Should she see other people?

Meanwhile my moral dilemma looks more like; Why doesn’t he come in anymore? Does he like my coworker more than me? Why didn’t he wave back at me?

Huge difference in the actuality of actual things happening in her scenario versus what I perceive to be taking place in mine.

Even look at the words used for the roommates boy problem. I used the word “should” because there will be a decision or action of some kind, where as with my problem I use the word “why” which dictates I’m simply throwing out questions to the wind. Asking questions to myself because there will be no decision about them, no plan of action. Hudson and I will continue to make pleasantries for awhile to come, while yet my mind accumulates more and more “why”‘s about our very basic customer service relationship.

God I sound crazy.

Lately I’ve really been missing the mark with boys, like more than usual. Everything I’ve assumed, I’ve been wrong about.

Take a newer crush that I took on in the almost month long period that Hudson was absent. This crush was a barista, not the most attractive ever but he did talk to me and was sweet and seemed interested, and I very quickly made that coffee shop a regular part of my after work routine.

Two things I assumed: He was single and that him giving me a free coffee that one time meant something.

Cut to me at his coffee shop the following week spotting him at a small table in the back, holding hands and talking with his girlfriend over a cup of coffee, which he probably gave her for free also.

At this point now I’ve lost the barista (who I never had) and I have no Hudson, and then top it off with the coworker I thought had a crush on me, quits for a new job, and first thing he does is text the most annoying female at my work. Clearly I know nothing about anything.

My realization in the midst of this is that I have no grasp on when people actually have feelings for others because I fantasize that there are feelings everywhere and between everyone. How do you know if feelings are actually there and not just in your imagination?

What are relationships in reality even like? In my reality nothing happens,which is the part I can’t stand. Do any other dreamers or INFPs relate to this? I feel like I’m just now poking my head out of my cloud for a brief second and looking around, just curious before I disappear back into fantasy land. If someone walks past me as I stand next to the door of my cloud – which is half open because I’m ready to run back inside it – maybe I’ll ask, maybe I’ll ask about relationships.

A person does walk by and I dip into my question about relationships. I’m scared the person will tell me I have to ask someone out, and I’m even more terrified they’ll give me a list of things I have to do to get a guy. The person begins to get a little long winded so I’m looking down the hallway of my cloud door looking for another person to ask or at least interrupt this one.

As I’m forced to listen to this person because no one else is walking by to save me, and I’m not quite ready to disappear back into my cloud with out at least getting some sort of vague answer, I realize everything this person has been talking about is real. Like stuff the person and their partner talk about or do or say or have done or have said. They actually did things.

It all sounds real and I’m not sure I even like it because it sounds like there can be like conflict or something? And everything isn’t a rainbow? I feel unsure still as I thank the person and step back inside my cloud of fantasy and idealism where it is safe, but I sort of hope I venture out again sometime.

28 Messages

I’ve messaged 28 men to no avail, I feel it only fair that I should be now allowed to give up, buy a cat, and rent a studio apartment.

This is my god given right to wave the flag of surrender and devote my life to work and booze. This is the new American-Drunk-Dream that involves extra deposits for my future cat whom I will name Roger, and hernias dedicated to long hours of stress and a side of overtime.

I had downloaded the fatal app that caused me to give up on the world the day after my friends and I all went downtown. As the designated driver I had expected to be the only one who did NOT do something stupid on their phone but as luck would have it, I accidentally began following The Worker Boy on social media.

I realized around 2am that I had done this and then I quickly deleted it and tried to erase any trace of it happening. The next day I began researching dating apps, because one thing I know is that when I’m not looking at Worker Boys social media, I’m texting him, and I just need to be an adult and flirt with someone online who is basically a stranger. I mean, because that’s the only thing that makes sense anymore.

So two weeks later I’ve messaged 28/men/boys/males, and been messaged by four men whom I did NOT message. Two of these four men were over 60 years old, one is hoping I’ll be his first date EVER, and the fourth I can’t really explain except to say that hell hath no fury like flame symbols all over your clothing (copyright issue?).

Two weeks, almost 30 messages sent out, but tell me to ask the cute guy from safeway what he did over the weekend and it’s a no go. He will probably say “work” and then I’ll say “me too” and then where will we be?

Now I didn’t pick the most popular app or anything, it’s called HowAboutWe and it is supposed to encourage people to go out on a date and not chat a shit ton online. It isn’t geared towards getting married, more just having fun, so I felt it was safe to download and hesitantly try.

Most of the time I find myself using it after a glass of wine or a couple of beers, where that “I’m Intrigued” button that messages the other person for you seems easier to press.

But even though scrolling is fun when intoxicated and even though I haven’t texted Worker Boy in awhile, online dating is still dreadful.

All the typical single girl blog posts that talk about how guys take the absolute least flattering pictures of all time is 100% accurate. Sometimes I’ll scroll when drunk and still say wow, these are my options.

The grammar in their profiles is terrible, the shirtless pics have me rolling my eyes, the huge cross tattoos are so “basic” I could cry and don’t even get me started on what they actually post.

“Looking for a girl who is down to chill and likes dogs”

Um yes hi, the name of the game is posting date ideas. The beginning of your post is written for you and it says “How about we…….” and that is when you put in a date idea for someone else to respond to your date idea.

Did you not read the instructions?

As fun as scrolling through terrible pictures and finding a cute one is, online dating is still where I believe romance goes to die.

I refuse to delete it because hell I did pay for it and I still don’t want to text Worker Boy, and hats off to you folks that it works for but I think I’d rather just ask Siri how her day is. She’s fiesty.

here’s to never being sober at a wedding

Agreed to be the bartender at a wedding, so I could say I have been a bartender. Problem with this is, what if the wedding is bad and you can’t drink because you’re the bartender?

What if it starts out bad, continues to be bad, then gets better for a second to make you think that it’s not bad, then it gets real real bad and just when you think you’ve had all the bad that bad could be it is in fact, still bad….?

So my friend and I who were the bartenders for this wedding arrive at the venue in the middle of nowhere, walk up a gravely hill in our heels, and then sat down to enjoy the least enjoyable ceremony there ever was.

Picture the most annoying woman, with the most annoying voice, who thinks she is crazy important, and that is the pastor who officiated this wedding. Her voice was robotic as she recited scripture and then discussed the scripture in that same tone, that sort of reminds me of my GPS minus the British accent. What was worse was that she kept saying the word “love”. Every sentence this bitch would throw that word in. She was only three or four minutes in when I began swearing under my breath and turning on my phone to text, anything to distract myself from the temptation of simply walking out of the ceremony. She talked of the love of the couple, the love of the families, the love, true love, God’s divine love. I waited for her to start in on the love the couple has for cats, for walks on the beach, or gardening but I can’t claim to have still been paying attention by the middle to see if she took it that far.

After the ceremony from hell (where apparently the focus is love) my fellow bartender and I booked it down that damn road of gravel to set up the bar at the reception site. As we are carefully trying not to die in platform heels we find one of our friends, stumbling up the road, towards the ceremony, with an empty bottle of jack in his hand. Drunker than I think I’ve ever seen anyone in my life and headed toward the crowd of people exiting the ceremony, we took it upon ourselves to steer him away. As we tried to hide him from others it became more clear, he wanted to make a scene.

Soon other friends came to cart him off to a hotel, but the second that catastrophe was crushed I was approached by someone in authority at the venue, about my credibility as a bartender. Apparently the bride had let on that my friend and I were professionals, so what was really left for me as far as options? Lying. Which I did.

As I’m pouring alcohol that I cannot drink, because I’m the one behind the bar, I’m realizing what a terrible idea this all was. The maid of honor (who was constantly panicked and constantly annoying) went up to give her speech and begin to sob and give the most obnoxious 5-10 minutes of blubbering, meanwhile I attempted to go to a happy place in my mind that stops me from drinking the open bottle of wine out on the bar, that I’m supposed to be serving.

Soon things picked up and loud music and friendly people made the time go by faster. My brother, one of the groomsmen, attempted to get me on the dance floor but the bride screamed at him to put me back behind the bar. Apparently it was a violation of something or other.

It’s ten thirty pm, the reception is over and we clean up until about eleven thirty pm. We get to our hotel where our drunken friend had been dropped off earlier. He is still drunk and now wanting to streak in the hallway of our hotel. We take awhile to take care of all that before we head down the street to a bar.

At the bar my friend and I are finally ordering drinks instead of soberly serving them, and we realize that the majority of the wedding party is not really drinking and are actually sipping water. You see they had been drinking beer/wine for free at the reception for the last three hours and were now wanting to go to bed. This should have been the point where I just stayed at the bar and ordered shots and let everyone else leave, but at this point I had given up on it all and thought maybe bed would be nice.

As our group is getting ready to leave a huge bald guy with tattoos calls my brother a “faggot” and starts making threats and wanting to fight outside. Our party then couldn’t leave the bar because the bald guy and his friends decided to stay outside the door waiting for us to come out for some lets break your jaw so you have to get surgery and your face will forever be distorted good old fashioned fun. Finally after the bride stepped in and gave a sob speech about it being her wedding day and all, they let us leave.

Side note, I wanted to give my phone number to this one guy who was part of the wedding party, but then found out he was brother to the bride and I suddenly chickened out. As I was leaving he said something about “well I probably will never see you again…” can’t even remember what I said back but I remember thinking that my drunken self could have done this better.

Anyways so were back at the hotel hours earlier than I thought we’d be, I’m not tipsy or even that tired, but as were laying down and getting comfortable, our drunk friend/attempted reception ruiner, returns to the hotel. He is determined on havoc as he shouts about wanting to go to Tahoe, then has sex with his girlfriend in the bathroom, then attempts to get his keys and when he can’t, walks out of the hotel room. He comes back and is still riled up so my brother goes on on a walk with him in hopes to tire him out.

The girlfriend of our drunken problem had started sobbing on the floor so we put her in our bed, and the three of us had probably fallen asleep together and had been pleasantly dreaming for about a half hour before my brother returned with him, who had not been yet tired out. Another hour goes by and finally he is as quiet as he is ever going to be and we all sleep.

That sleep lasted all but an hour and a half before it was about eight something am and we are up. One person couldn’t find their wallet, and the other their keys. Searches began and I felt that leaving this god forsaken middle of nowhere town was never going to happen. Finally two hours later or so I’m home, in bed, making note to volunteer zero services to any wedding in the upcoming future.

Here is the positive take from this terrible day and a half:
I can now say I have bartended (whoop).

wine-wit-winning

Wait…so you don’t want to get drunk off cheap wine and talk about how hot the guys are on random game shows?… I don’t understand.

Oh married friends, I’m starting to sense the parting of our ways.

Is it time to let them go? Or maybe I need to get my shit together?…nah, the time thing.

Left my to-be-married-in-like-three-months friends house just a couple moments ago and said to myself wow I think they barely survived that, and by that I mean hanging out with my single friend and I who basically dropped F bombs left and right (mostly me), drank wine out of the bottle (mostly her), reenacted the night my parents called me an alcoholic (all me), and discussed the hot or not people on TV (both of us).

I didn’t mean to overwhelm this happily engaged pair,but I guess it had just been awhile since they had hung out with the two of us at the same time, while we consumed alcohol.

What triggered this spontaneous hangout in the first place was my best friends wedding this weekend. The almost married couple attended and caught up with my friend and I, and then texted us to hang out two days later.

Maybe they forgot what we are like or perhaps thought we had matured. It’s possible that they do not even realize that they have in fact changed and act one hundred percent married. They’re so believable that I even wondered if they had cheated and read their vows to one another. Maybe one of them had their mom go online and become sanctioned (is that even what it’s called?) and she officiated (is that right either?) them as man and wife right there in the kitchen.

I’m really not sure what they were expecting when inviting us over. I’m still single and now unemployed, did you think I’d be LESS drunk?

I would like to believe that the two of them just outgrew me, and it’s not that I’ve become any less hilarious. Or maybe the ways in which I used to be outrageously funny are now ridiculous to them due to their more sedentary,and well lets face it, boring lifestyles.

I suppose filling my wine glass to the brim and loudly telling stories using wild hand motions doesn’t make me anyone’s ideal guest but doesn’t my cynicism, foul language, sexual innuendos, and overall inappropriate behavior make me a form of entertainment, if you will?

Perhaps I used to be, but at this stage in this soon to be wed couples life maybe they are looking for a source of entertainment a tad more sophisticated than what I can bring to the table.

Hats off to them for wanting to grow up a little. Maybe I’ll find new friends in the section where they sell that ridiculous cheap wine I keep purchasing.

lots of options but a ditch ain’t one

I’m sure many of my friends are expecting to find me in a ditch one of these mornings, an empty bottle of rum in my hand with some broken ribs, possibly wearing flannel. Maybe I’ll have stolen a car from some teenagers but then one of their moms will get in her SUV and come chase me down. She’ll kick me in the stomach after I kind of accidentally fall in the ditch, due to the rum and all. I don’t really know where the flannel comes in but when I picture myself in a ditch I just see myself wearing flannel.

This is sort of a strange fantasy to be playing out but if the people I knew thought this was a plausible event right now I wouldn’t blame them, because as of last week I am now unemployed.

Unemployment on top of having recently moved back in with my parents on top of living in my hometown on top of my best friend getting married in a week on top of having recently been dumped by someone twice my age on top of my sister and best friend both being pregnant on top of Sarah Simmons being voted off The Voice.

Okay I guess the last one wasn’t that serious but I think you get the drift that basically my life is getting all shitty while the lives of those around me increasingly attractive.

However, instead of standing creepily outside highschools drinking my rum in my flannel shirt and waiting for kids to walk to the most expensive cars I have decided to reside in this place called the land of options.

I stumbled upon this land the day after I quit my job. My family and I had dinner at Logan’s Roadhouse, I had never been but apparently you can throw peanuts on the ground? Sure, always a good time throwing peanuts on the ground. Anyhow the waiters were super nice and I noticed there were lots of hot guys working there. I told my dad “I should see if they’re hiring” and my dad goes “Sure! Why not?”. I thought about it more that day, that statement: “Sure!Why not?” and thought wow, I could literally do anything.

Now I haven’t lost my mind or anything. I DO realize I can’t just do anything, but I do feel this sense of freedom that I’m not held down to anything. I do not have to stay in a job I can’t stand to support a family nor am I tied down to a company or particular career track.

So as I’m coming up on 25 years old in a couple of months,I’m aware that this is the age where some people are settling into grown up jobs or starting families. Well, I guess I’m not “some people.” Instead I’m going to be that girl, waking up on the day of her 25th birthday thinking, what’s today going to be?

So no ditches for me quite yet, lets just enjoy this fleeting moment of not being tied down, while I still can.

ending friday right

The odds were stacked against me, but I went dancing on Friday.

HELLZ YEAH.

I had been craving it for a couple of days, just a night to let loose. To bust out some obscene dance moves and get really sweaty and to sing along with T-pain as loudly as possible. In summary, embarrass myself and others with me.

I got the text about my girls going out when I was at work already and I had of course chose that day to wear a baseball t-shirt to work. Literally a baseball t-shirt…on a Friday, I know amateur status over here.

So my dearest friend stops by my house to pick up some “clubbing shirts.” Now that is friendship.

Everything at work decides to swing into madness about an hour before I’m off work. Supposed to be off at 11:00pm and instead I start the paperwork at 11:03pm to document the said madness. I was in the parking lot of my work at 11:30pm sitting in my car, drained and tired, knowing I had to drive twenty minutes out still to get to the bar. I sat there debating for about thirty seconds when suddenly I just said out loud…

“FUCK IT.”

Keys are in the ignition and I’m speeding through the intersection. Make it to the bar around 11:45pm, show my id, see my friends on the dance floor, and immediately am grateful that I started driving. I think T-pain was on when I walked in. Fate guys.

Ten minutes later I’m in my club shirt ordering a drink.
Four minutes later me with said drink, in said club shirt, are out on the dance floor grinding on everyone I know.

I honestly didn’t want to be anywhere near a guy. I just wanted to get down with all my main girls and them watch them try to drunkenly flirt with guys who are spilling beer all over themselves trying to flirt back. Lets get messy, because life is too short to pretend that were classy.

The entire evening was beautiful, or my version of beautiful anyway. One of my friends found a cardboard cut out of a girl holding beers I think, and that poor piece of cardboard just got violated in every possible way. Not to mention a metal bar that held up the speakers that I basically used as my own personal stripper pole.

Walked out of that bar before 2am, covered in sweat, smelling like cigarettes and smiled the whole way home.

Still dancing as I brushed my teeth. Thanks Friday, I needed that.