Look it up!

The internet is a wonderful source of information; you can literally look up anything. A few years ago I bought my first smartphone, a Blackberry. I loved having information at my fingertips, ready to take on the world with a pocket sized encyclopedia. About a year ago I bought my first iPhone. I was adamantly against Apple products for years, seeing them as a form of submitting to societies pressures of fitting in. However, when it came time to renew my phone plan my brother became persistent about me purchasing an iPhone. And you know what? I sort of love the damn thing. Yes, I can’t really customize it. Yes, I feel like an ass who doesn’t know anything about technology. Yes, I feel like a douche when I purchase iPhone covers for my extremely fragile phone. But all of that is worth the grief because my phone never dies, it never has glitches, and it is pretty.

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Back home my parents have a laptop but they are running on dial-up. DIAL-UP! It is the most absurd thing my parents do and they do a lot of absurd things. Anyway, my mom is a very curious creature. She cannot watch a movie without questioning Every. Single. Detail. It is frustrating and annoying, but dammit, I love her. Once my mother realized I can look up pretty much anything on my phone she began taking advantage of me. Here is a list from the past MONTH of the things my mom has asked me to look up. Enjoy!

Things I have had to “look up” for my mom:

• Who played John Gage on Emergency?
• Interesting facts on Normal Rockwell.
• Is Gloria Henry still alive?
• What year was the Anderson Spitfire airplane motor made?
• Who played “Birdy” in the film Birdy?
• Can you print photos from your phone?
• Was there a fire at our local Wal-Mart?
• What movie was Christopher Walken in with Sean Connery?
• What country does the name Anderson come from? Lewis? Wargo?
• What is the difference between burglary and robbery?
• What castle is Downton Abbey filmed at? How many bedrooms?
• Look up “Who does the bell toll? It tolls for thee…” What is the rest of the poem?
• Bette Davis was on an episode of Perry Mason. Who was the male co-star?
• Turned channel on t.v. and guy mentioned actor being from Ravenna, Ohio. Who was the actor?
• What is the movie staring both Wilson brothers? They are running from the law.
• When did Elizabeth Montgomery, from Bewitched, die? Age? Cause of death?

That list pretty much sums up my mother…

The cookie-induced incident

Holiday parties are everywhere this time of year. Work, family and friends all hop on the party wagon for some festive fun. I’m all for eggnog, fatty foods and Christmas music, I even like the wacky holiday sweaters. However, what I’m really looking for at a holiday party is a mistake. A mistake that will leave me saying: “Why oh why did I drink so much? That party was awesome!” or “Why oh why did I eat so many cookies? That party was awesome!” or “Why oh why did I hook up with my supervisor? That party was awesome!” Okay, the last item has never happened. Have I wanted it to? Of course!

Each holiday party I go to I hope to meet a wonderfully mysterious dude to hook up with in the coat check. Of course I never make a move to initiate this to happen but it is one of my fantasies and you can’t judge me for that. Well, you can, but that isn’t nice. A few weeks ago I had a holiday party with my roommate and best friend. We made entirely too much food, had too much alcohol supplied, and too much drama broke out. I was looking forward to meeting a friend of a friend of a friend and inviting him into my room and wooing him with my complete Full House series collection. Unfortunately, the party consisted of the same incestuous group that is always hanging out in my apartment. Don’t you guys have friends for me?

This past Friday my work had a Christmas party in a fancy ballroom. Dragging along my best friend I boasted in the parking lot as we were walking in “I hope I hook up with someone in the coat check!” Laughing at me, Matt knew I would never do such a thing. A girl can dream.

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Just hope this lady isn’t planning on sticking around.

Finally my opportunity had presented itself at a holiday party over the weekend. This is a story of disappointment, sex and betrayal.

A cookie decorating holiday party doesn’t exactly scream sex or anything really sexy for that matter, unless you bake penis cookies, which we didn’t. But there I was, wearing a little dress and tights with flats. I looked adorable and sexy all rolled into one (she says modestly.) I hoped this party would have people I’ve never met before so I had to get prepped to meet my party mistake. After a few awkward greetings and name exchanges I was familiar with everyone at the party. Upon further inspection I realized I had met everyone on separate occasions at different times. Disappointment started to set in. Batting my eyelashes at a few possibilities I was beginning to give up hope. SUDDENLY! I was sharing a story of sex and fetishes (oh “Tub Girl,” you have provided me for many years a cocktail story) when I sparked someone’s interest. Lester* was attractive, smart and in his mid-thirties. JAYNE BAIT as I like to refer to him as. Lester asked me more about said Tub Girl and we exchanged laughs and winks. Smitten!

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Festive!

The party was starting to slow down a bit with people leaving for other commitments. I text Matt suggesting he probably shouldn’t come. Then it happened. Lester strolled over to me and sat on my lap. HE FELL DIRECTLY INTO MY LAP. I giggled, he laughed, and party-goers nervously smiled. Conversing quietly, Lester came out and said I was hot. Blushing, I thanked him. Of course many women would probably slap a guy for invading their space and coming on to them so directly. But unlike many women this NEVER happens to me. I’m always the funny girl, never the desired girl. I pulled my phone out of my bra (something that really amused Lester) and text Matt to come to the party, things just got interesting. I started feeling the eyes of judgmental peers so I felt the need to straighten up a bit. I gently laid my scarf across my lap to cover my stems, feeling a bit exposed. Ripping the scarf from my legs, Lester proclaimed “Don’t cover up! Keep that off!” Lester received a verbal lashing from a woman across the room. “Oh goodness, no, really, he’s fine.” I assured the woman. Matt finally arrived at the party and he shook his head at me soon as he walked through the door. I couldn’t stop smiling and blushing, but I was thankful for him coming. I prompted Matt to sit between Lester and me, which he complied. Lester leaned over Matt during conversation and reminded me how hot I am. At that very moment Matt nearly spit out his drink, which later he assured me he was laughing out of embarrassment for never hearing a man call me that. Thanks, buddy.

The night simmered down again and I was feeling the need to pull away. I wanted this guy badly and I knew it would be a problem. A huge problem. I gave the WE NEED TO GO! look to Matt. We packed up our things and said our goodbyes. Lester showed disappointment in our decision to leave, to which he promptly invited us to his New Year’s party. I looked to Matt as if I were saying “That could be fun!” He shook his head and laughed. Lester and I hugged goodbye and we walked out the front door.

Walking down the sidewalk I said to Matt “OH MY GOD. Why are they ALWAYS married?” Lester. Was. Married. The woman in the party giving him the verbal lashing-his wife. HIS FUCKING WIFE. This man, this beautiful specimen of a man, was married. Scum, sure, for flirting with another woman in front of his wife. But lovely scum, delightful scum, scum that made me feel so good about myself that I wanted to be a mistress.

*Names have been changed to save face.

Larry the Shithead: A Story of Dating Exhaustion

Boy meets girl in a bar. Girl thinks boy is attractive, smart, and funny. Boy thinks girl is a total babe and they exchange phone numbers. What do you do when the boy becomes progressively unreliable? This is the story of Kim and Larry.*

Kim is a coworker of mine who is beautiful, funny and very smart. At work one day Kim told us about a man she met the night before at the bar. Larry seemed to have it all; the looks, a job and a personality to match. We were excited for Kim, encouraging her to pursue Larry.

After some texting and failed date attempts Larry finally came around and took our dear Kim out. A movie and dinner I believe. A second date came about, an impromptu night in. Kim was happy and so were we; then came the most recent date.

Kim wanted to go to the movies to see SKyfall with Larry. When Kim messaged Larry to discuss plans it was 9:40pm. Larry suggested they see the movie Flight which had started at 9:25pm. Strike one. When Kim expressed her concern Larry admitted to already physically being at the theater and just watched Skyfall. Strike two. Kim text back to have a good night. Larry, you dumb shit, why would you see a movie you know your girl wanted to see? EXPLAIN THIS TO ME!!

Unaware of his shittery, Larry text Kim “Good morning” the next day. Sure, pretend you didn’t do something dumb last night, Larry. Aware of his shittery, Kim text back asking how the movie was. Larry’s response, he didn’t see it. At this point Kim shouts to us “REALLY? He left the theater after paying for his ticket with his cheap ass?” Larry says he will wait to see the movie with Kim. I call bullshit. Attempting to be reasonable Kim gives Larry a second chance. A chance to redeem himself, maybe he was having an off night.

Around 5:30pm Larry texts Kim telling her the movie starts at 9:25pm. To confirm plans Kim called Larry around 7pm. Where was Larry? Oh, just eating dinner at Applebee’s. REALLY? You are eating DINNER right before your date? Call me old-fashioned but shouldn’t a movie date be accompanied with dinner? Fine, Kim accepts this shitty move and tries to move past it. Don’t be so quick. Larry then goes on to say he will be attending his cousin’s basketball game after dinner. Huh. Okay, Larry. Real cool. Strike three. In the real world you only get three strikes. In the Larry world you are playing with a class-act and Kim gives him yet another shot. After the basketball game Larry texts Kim if he is picking her up or if they should just meet. At 9:10pm Kim responds to meet there. At 9:21 Larry texts which theater to meet at and of course he picks the theater which is 20 minutes away from Kim.

Late to the movie, caught in the rain, Kim arrives to the theater to Larry not being there. Upset and wet Kim changed the plans to go the bar. A shot of Patrone will certainly help in this situation, no? Late boy shows up at the bar as Kim is on her second shot. Kim asked him to take a shot of Patrone with her, so what does he order? Grand Marnier on the rocks. Sure, that’s the same thing. After a few shots Larry and Kim agree to head over the theater and attempt to see another movie, Killing me Softly

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Walking past the concessions Larry kindly offers to buy something for Kim; Kim agrees to a bottle of water. Larry, being incredibly frugal, asks the concessionaire how much for a bottle of water. Listen guys; DON’T ask how much something is when YOU offered to buy it. Ugh. The concessionaire responded “$4.75.” in which Larry repeats “$4.75?!” Yes, it is $4.75. It is a movie theater not a gas station. Larry then tries to convince Kim to order a pop instead, because you get more for the same price. IF KIM WANTED A POP SHE WOULD HAVE ORDERED A POP! Feeling defeated, Kim orders a raspberry ice tea.

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A WATER IS HOW MUCH?

Finally in their seats, watching previews, Larry decides this a good time to talk sexually to Kim. Larry, you never cease to amaze me. JUST THEN…Larry pulls out a pack of fruit snacks from his pocket. Okay, I’m all about saving money, especially when it comes to a movie theater. But on the first rounds of dating? Larry can’t catch a break. Kim then offers Larry a drink of tea, to which he replies with “No. I’d rather have some water.” *head hits desk*

Poor, poor Kim. Larry is by far the most ridiculous man I have ever heard about. The strikes against him are minor details, but when added up it is though Larry wasn’t trying to impress at all.

Can we please offer Kim some advice or encouragement?

*Names have been changed to save face

 

You can’t compete with an ex-wife

When it comes to my dating preferences my close friends know I’m a woman with different tastes in men compared to other women. I like my men to be rugged, a face full of unique characteristics, funny, socially charming, and not an ounce of muscle showing. Oh, and another thing, I like my man to come with baggage. Full-blown emotionally jaded, relationship-ily stunted and characteristically flawed. There is something about these men who are so cynically invested in love that they can barely hold their head up. I want to help them, fix them. Now ladies, we should all know by now you cannot help or change a man, especially one who isn’t willing to change. But I can’t help how I feel about these men. They are damaged goods and I’m prepared to pay the price to be with them. My favorite type of damaged goods: divorced men.

My FWB is a classic case of damaged goods. He is divorced from a lesbian who cheated on him. You couldn’t possibly find someone more cynical then this guy. His total outlook on women is depressing, believing all women are cheating whores with no morals. Well done, FWB. You’ve figured out the goal of the entire population of women is to make every single man’s life miserable.

Although my FWB is fucked up because of his ex I guarantee if she were to stroll back in to his life he would scoop her up into his arms and never look back. He speaks fondly of being married to the love of his life and how I should believe in love at first sight. Well, dumb ass, clearly she wasn’t the love of your life if she was more interested in women. Shouldn’t the love of your life love you back? Like, full-heartily, head-over-heels, love?

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Ross. Divorced. Sad. Married a lesbian.

Then there was the convict. He was divorced from a woman who sent him to jail. Sure, he totally deserved that sentence and he even more so deserved to be divorced. But I felt sorry for him. I wanted to show him that not all women would kick him to the curb for his mistakes. I worked hard on the relationship, meaning I was very obedient and hardly voiced my concerns. How could I possibly come off as a bad girlfriend when I was willing to be with a convict? I thought monuments should be raised in my honor with a plaque below reading “Oh, this girl? She totally forgives you for your mistakes. And she bakes!”

When the convict and I split up for good, after two long years of on-again, off-again status I thought to myself Good Riddance! Maybe he told me he loved me and maybe I told him I loved him, but I didn’t really know any better. He was my first “love” and I was just obeying to the rules. Years have gone by and I know it was a good decision to split; however, sometimes I find myself thinking about him. The holidays remind me of all the people who have come in and out of my life. I recently couldn’t get my ex out of my mind so I messaged a friend of his on Facebook, asking if she is still in contact with him and what is he up to. She understood my request as curiosity and told me she hasn’t spoken with him for about a year but last she heard he is living a few towns over with his ex-wife and her kids. Fuck.

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You’re right, you’re right, I know you’re right.

The moral of this story is you can’t compete with an ex-wife. These divorced men, not by their doing but hers, are damaged. The only person holding the First-Aid kit is their ex and no one else. I was convinced my ex would have forgotten how to function without me in his life. I’m naive and an idiot. Of course he got back together with her; she was the person he cheated on me with.

I strongly believe I need to re-evaluate my taste in men. 

Things I have said

Whether I said it in the middle of an argument, at work or in a passionate embrace, here is a list of the ridiculous things I have said.

When my FWB suggested I start seeing other men.

  • I feel like you are sending me on a scavenger hunt when I’ve already found the prize.

At work when discussing slang.

  • I had to use Urban Dictionary to look up what “shortie” means.
  • Let me just youtube a video of what twerking is.

In the heat of the moment; I killed that moment.

  • Look at my new ruffle butt underwear! I’ve wanted a pair of these since I was a kid.
  • Him: Did you remember to get your birth control? Me: Yes, but vote for Romney and you will take that right away from me.

During an interview with a marketing firm.

Me: I have a different style of writing, fun and sarcastic. Then again, when you blog you can say anything.

Him: You have a blog? (pulls up the internet on the big screen) What is the address?

Me: (flushed with red) Oh my god, no. It’s about dating.

Other guy: Oh, I love eating.

Me: No. DATING.

To customers coming through my grocery store line.

  • I thought you were wearing pajama pants for easy access.
  • How young is too young? (Said to a really hot 70 year-old man)
  • Do you mind if I rub this cilantro on my face? It’s so soft!
  • Oh my god, I love our chicken pot pies. They are so creamy. I love creamy things.
  • This sure is a lot of wine. Don’t worry, we don’t judge here.
  • I just think you are so sweet that I get light-headed when you are around. That is probably on the account of my diabetes.

To customers ordering beer at my station at a concert

Man: I need two beers.

Me: Are you thirsty?

Man: Ha, no. One is for my girlfriend.

(He takes his beers and walks away. 20 minutes pass and he comes back with his girlfriend.)

Man: (Points to girlfriend) This is my girlfriend.

Me: (acting shocked) You never told me you have a girlfriend!

Girlfriend: (slaps man) You’re sleeping in the dog house!

 

Man: Where is the restroom?

Me: (pointing to the ground beside me) Right here… I like to watch.

Man: (nervously) Heh. Okay.

Me: (pointing to actual bathrooms) Over there.

Manager: How do you like the job so far?

Me: I love it! I am really enjoying getting paid to flirt with men all night.

 

Thankful for crap

A list of what I am thankful for.

Around this time of year people will make rambling lists of what they are thankful for. Some lists are fun, listing technology or my adorable cats!, while other lists are serious, I’m thankful for each breath . Barf. This short list is a collection of both.

I am most thankful for:

  • Mascara. Without it I would look like a troll.
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    I’ve tried many. This is by far the BEST.

  • Cats. I will never be truly alone as long as I have cats.
  • My parents never-ending will to help me out. Obviously my apartment would be unfurnished if it weren’t for them.
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    My lovely father

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    My darling mother

  • My friends. I can’t be hard on myself when these people willinglywant to spend time with me.
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    My number one ladies.

  • Sex. Without this act occurring on a semi-regular basis I would question the purpose of life.
  • Allergy medicine. I can snuggle kitties ALL the time because of this miracle drug.
  • Pandora. Christmas music all year round, 24/7.
  • Velvet hangers. My plus-sized clothing will never slip off hangers again!
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    You will never go back to plastic hangers again.

Obviously I am thankful for life, water and food. Everyone is. What matters most to me in life is being happy. Sure some of the things that make me happy are materials but that doesn’t mean I’m materialistic (I SO am). Why do people get so bent out of shape, feeling guilty, when admitting what makes them happy? Honestly, why? If your cell phone makes you happy and makes your life easier then be thankful for it! You’ve worked hard for your money, spend it as you see fit.

I hope everyone has a happy Thanksgiving this year. Now time to start spreading the holiday cheer! 

Fifty Shades of Grey Dick

Online dating can be tricky. You never fully know (or trust) who you are connecting with. Sure, the man can be charming, have an attractive picture and claim to be one of the cast members from the original Rent. But how can you know for sure? The profile can be the window of truth. Likes, dislikes, 5 items you can’t live without (the moment I see “my cat” I send a message), favorite movies and books (the “I don’t read much” sends up a red flag for me), and my favorite, the What I am looking for section. Tell me, what are you looking for, mystery man, a casual hook-up, a girlfriend, a partner in crime, a wife, or just a pen-pal? The profile is the list of truth and the key to charming yourself into my life. One wrong move (“I LOVE the movie Wedding Crashers!”…ehhh) and you are out of the running.

After a couple weeks of not hearing from the fellas I got a bite. Mr. Diversion intrigued me.

Morning Jayne, how are you doing? Very nice to meet you … in a virtual sort of way … I guess the challenge is for me to construct an opening that is witty, funny, engaging and something that piques your curiosity? That is quite a tall order to do right out of the box … along with correct spelling and punctuation! lol … So if you find yourself looking for a partner in crime … a play partner in crime that is… drop me a line back and lets get to know one and another and see what happens ;)

Aside from the over usage of  “…” I found him interesting. What exactly is a play partner in crime? Oh, of course I know what a play partner in crime is. How could I not know? I respond…

Well aren’t you an interesting person. You have peeked my interest yet I’m hesitant to respond. However, here I am. 

It appears to me you are seeking more out of life, which I guess really is the point of this website, in the most literal simple sense.

He responded:

Morning Jayne … indeed I am. As are we all I guess. To the best of my knowledge .. this is a one way trip so we need to make the most of our opportunity! So how are you doing today? And I have to ask … did you get a chance to read my profile? And do you have any burning questions for me?

Mr. Diversion and I exchanged several emails back and forth, which quickly became sexual. He wrote with experience and fantasy, something I like to dabble in. No, I’m not a whore by any means. I don’t sleep around, but I like to pretend I do. In addition to getting my jollies by talking to this fella, I was using him for the greater good of writing material. I knew he would make for an interesting cocktail story. Maybe you’re thinking “But Jayne! What makes this smutty guy different?” Hold your horses, I’m getting to that part! Mr. Diversion has a dark secret, which isn’t a secret at all. Remember the “burning questions” part of his introduction? Well, I looked over his profile after the first exchange and was shocked to what I found. Mr. Diversion is MARRIED. Capital M married. Not even divorced or experiencing an unhappy marriage. To further add to the intrigue, Mr. Diversion is 55 FUCKING YEARS OLD. 55! Who is this old married fart and why did he approach me??

His answer:

I’m on the prowl for a sex buddy. But lets face it … you just can’t go out and jump into bed with just anyone and come away feeling fulfilled. I think there needs to be more of a connection than that. Even just a tenuous one like what I’m hoping to find is better than nothing. Yep, I don’t get very many replies … and when I do they then tend to be rather … how do I say …. vindictive, profane and downright ugly. And I kind of expected that to be the case. It does go with the territory I guess. You seem to have a forward thinking personality … or a least a curiosity about some of us other earthly inhabitants. That’s a good thing! Don’t loose it as it will serve you well!

Of course I was flattered. I am very forward thinking when it comes to sex and dating. I give men a chance that would otherwise be shut down by an old-fashioned gal. I entertained the thought of hooking up with Mr. Diversion. I shamed a lot of women who fight sexual deviants on this topic. I was the other woman even without sleeping with this man. I felt disgusted with myself but I couldn’t stop. What started as casual flirting turned into what I called “Fifty Shades of Grey Dick.” … because he’s old. Get it?

Mr. Diversion offered up this little gem:

As two kiss … the submissive one melts and melds into the dominant partner. As passions rise … it becomes the responsibility of the dom to lead the sub in the dance of lust.

Are you blushing yet? Hopefully you know very well about “doms” and “subs.” Those are the roles sexual partners take on in a relationship. I confessed to being a sub and Mr. Diversion said he is a dom. We discussed the roles and how important it is to have a dom who makes you feel safe. Our conversations ranged from informative to downright dirty. Please don’t lose respect for me! IT’S ALL FOR THE SAKE OF JOURNALISM!… she tells herself.

I will not continue to go into the nitty gritty of it all, unless you demand it. Mr. Diversion laid out our first meeting and how it would play out. It was incredibly detailed and raunchy. I’ve never read Fifty Shades of Grey but I imagine it to sound an awful lot like our conversation…only censored. That’s right. I think our conversation was wilder than the popular housewife smut.

In the end I turned down Mr. Diversion’s proposal to hook up. I do not want to sleep with a married man, even though pop culture sets that scenario to sexy music and fulfilled fantasies. Our conversations quickly faded after he realized he would not be getting any.

I am left with memories of breaking the rules and not giving a flip. I am also left with the hilarious mistake Mr. Diversion made when he said he would provide me with an incredible “organism.” Oh, Mr. Diversion, you are my knight in shining armor.

*Ring Ring* I love you!

I’ve tried online dating. A lot. Obviously it hasn’t worked for me thus far considering I am still single. Technically I have had good luck with online dating; I’ve been flirted with, lusted after, and even asked out a time or two. Where is all comes to a screeching halt is when I actually go out with the fella.

Corey was different. He didn’t come on to me in the first message with a “Wow, you’re so sexy!” He wrote me a message that complimented my profile, found my answers to questions interesting, and wanted to discuss religion with me.

*Note: My profile used to end with “I love to argue and have heated debates. If you want to argue politics and religion then message me!” I thought this would weed out the imbeciles. Turns out it brings in the emotionally stunted.

Corey and I hit it off great. We messaged each other about two times a day, consisting of heated debates and obscure life stories. The life stories soon turned into random make-believe, where we pretended to have alternate lives. It was silly and fun and I was becoming smitten. After a couple weeks of messages I decided to give Corey my number, telling him he could text me. And he did.

Corey text me a lot, often times it was about nothing, some times it was about how great he thought I was. An ego maniac such as me loved the attention. Of course I’m great, why don’t all men see how wonderful I am? The texts turned into Corey wanting to take me out. There were two problems; he didn’t have a car and he lived in Cleveland. He failed to mention these two issues in the beginning because according to him, he was going to try to figure it out.  I was comfortable not going out with Corey just yet but I could tell he was getting antsy. A week goes by and we still have no resolution to his problem. He doesn’t want me to be a chump, so officering to pick him up was out of the question.

I went out to Karaoke one night with Matt and I had a few too many. (In Jayne world that means I had two beers.) I got drunk and stupid and decided to call Corey. We had been chatting for about a month and we still hadn’t spoken on the phone. It was 11pm, I was drunk, and calling a potential husband. I was smiling, giddy, and making absolutely no sense. Oh, did I mention Corey didn’t answer and I left him a voicemail? NEVER LEAVE A DRUNKEN VOICEMAIL! Turns out Corey was at work, he called back about 20 minutes later. I was embarrassed and not as drunk as I thought.

Corey had a sexy voice. Masculine and caring all at the same time! We laughed off my drunken voicemail and chatted for a couple hours. I felt like I was in high school talking with the quarterback. My giddiness soon wore off. Towards the end of the conversation Corey was becoming more and more aggressive towards me. You know the type- over complimenting. Everyone loves a good compliment, but geez, I’m certainly not perfect. Then it happened. The kiss of death. I couldn’t believe my ears. Did I hear him correctly?

Me:  What?

Corey: I told myself not to say that so soon.

Me: I can’t believe this.

Corey: I want to say it again!

Me: (nervously) Please don’t.

Corey: I LOVE YOU! I LOVE JAYNE!

Me: (nervously) Oh Corey.

Corey: I’m not hanging up until you say it back!

Me: I don’t think…

Corey: SAY IT!

Me: Uhh…sure… I lovuuurbss ya.

Corey: THAT WASN’T A WORD!

Me: (nervously) Okay, well I need to get to bed now.

Corey: I LOVE YOU! 

Me: …Byeee…. *click*

JESUS. FUCKING. CHRIST. What just happened? I can’t believe he said that. You would think after all that I would delete the conversations, phone number, and never look back. I didn’t delete Corey. I was intrigued. I can’t explain why I didn’t run. I’ve never experienced love like this, so juvenile.

Matt and I had to go to Cleveland for a friend’s one man show. I figured this would be a good time to meet Corey. Apparently I take my best friend on my first dates. Corey met us at the club. He was tall, awkward, and sloppy. I was not impressed with his clothing choices, nor was I taken by his kind words. During the show I kept catching Corey staring at me. I could tell he wanted to say something but he was holding it back. Matt nervously tried to be a buffer. He could sense I was uncomfortable.

During the entirety of the evening Corey nervously touched his face. His hands were covering his mouth, eyes, nose, and chin at all times. It was off-putting, strange, and made me and Matt damn uncomfortable. We left the club feeling terrible about Corey. I hugged Corey goodbye and jumped in Matt’s car screaming “Go!” I was never so excited to get in Matt’s shitty car in my life. I hate first dates. I also hate socially awkward people.

A couple days went by and Corey revealed to me that most women stop seeing him because of how he acts in public. It wasn’t first date jitters- he is a face toucher! I was appalled. I need a man who can go out in public, interact with my friends, show me a great non-awkward time. I don’t need a man who is a face toucher.

I let Corey down as gently as I could. He was very upset considering he just told me he loved me. That was his mistake, not mine.

When a Stranger Knocks

Living in an apartment building there are some basic rules you need to follow.

  1. Don’t play your music too loudly*
  2. Set a shower schedule with your roommates (to avoid waiting to take a shower)
  3. Pay rent on time!
  4. If you are planning to have loud sex at least make a batch of brownies for your roommates to enjoy.
  5. Do not let strangers in.

*Unless the music is exceptionally cool like Journey.

Let’s cover rule number 5. A few weeks ago, my parents came to visit me at my new place. By “visit”, I mean drop off a bunch more of my crap I stored at their house. My mom cleaned my apartment; my dad, brother and I carried heavy boxes up my four flights of stairs. I am now committed to my apartment until at least right after the holiday season because all my holiday decorations were shoved into a tiny closet.

Soon after the move, my parents drove away and I headed back into my apartment building. In order to get into the building either you take the fire escape to your kitchen door or you type a code to go into the main doors.

Walking up to the main door, I noticed a lost looking hipster fella standing before the pass code door. He was frantically calling and texting people, whom I assume are friends that live in the building. I softly say “Aw, do you need to get into the building?” He nervously laughed and said “Yes. I cannot get a hold of my friend. She lives right there.” He pointed to the first apartment door through the glass door. I calmly said, “Well, it’s not really smart to let a stranger into the building, so I will have to ask you some questions.” He nodded.

Jayne: “Are you a murderer?”

Hipster: “No.”

Jayne: “Are you a rapist?”

Hipster: “No.”

Jayne: “Do you like to wear women’s skin?”

Hipster: “Haha! No, but I appreciate the reference.”

Jayne: “Well, I had to make sure. I’m the right body type for that kind of thing, so I just want to be safe.”

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I then let the fella in. See. All it took was a few simple questions before letting a stranger in to make sure I wasn’t letting in the next dorm room murderer.