tales of my youth

I have a phobia of water. I realize that this is a pretty bold statement considering that one needs water to lead a generally healthy lifestyle (read: shower). Saying this out loud usually makes people uncomfortable which I'm okay with. Anyway, I had an abnormally difficult time showering until I was something like 15. I would sit in a bath which is gross because I don't get the idea of stewing comfortably in your own filth, but whatever to each his own. I also felt like I would somehow drown. Or I would run the water and use a bucket or a cup to rinse off like I was washing a dog or something. I asked my mother about it and she was all, "You were always like that. I'd try to give you a bath and you would scream and scream. I thought you were just nasty." Okay. A few weeks later, the truth comes out; it turns out, when I was a few months old, my mom was giving me a bath and I slipped out of her hands into a sinkful of water and I almost drowned. Mystery solved. Ever since then, I would freak when she tried to bathe me and now, years later, I don't know how to swim and I can't shower like a normal person.

One when my sister, brother and I were just kids, my father took us out for lunch at some completely random Chinese place in a pretty crappy neighborhood. After we ordered and got our food to go, my father turned to my sister and I and said, "Stay right there. Don't move." Okay, being pretty well-disciplined girls, we knew that if we got up for whatever reason, there was a pretty good chance for an ass-whoopin', so we stayed put. And watched as my father took my brother's hand and silently left the store. I don't know where they went. Around the block maybe? To another store? I don't know. But after a few minutes, my sister and I realized that my father had for real just left us there alone and we didn't know where he was or where we were. I think I was like 5. So we started crying, still not getting up because he had told us not to. Ten minutes later, they show up all laughs because he was just playing a trick on us! and oh my god, isn't that just hilarious? No dad, it isn't. He was so proud of us for listening and not getting up to follow him. I know that all the world isn't exactly the ghetto that people make it out to be, but we were pretty tiny and this was Brooklyn. Couldn't we have played this game in Vermont?

My parents are both insane. That's the moral of the story, I think.

I'm in an adult spelling bee for charity today. It's not as naughty as it initially sounds, but it is definitely as geeky as it eventually sounds.

hopeless romantics need not apply

When I meet someone, I get this urge to document it here because it seems so much more important somehow. And I guess because I want other people to know about it since my friends don't have much invested in the romantic satisfaction of others. I don't really blame them. My best friend has this way of attracting men who really aren't worth anything at all. I have two friends who decide that there is no relationship on the earth that is more beautiful than the ones that they share with their current boyfriends even if one is dating an unemployed alcoholic and the other is dating her employee in secrecy. The rest of my friends are bitter and way too vocal about it and my brother just went back to his ex-wife who once tried to have him thrown in jail for child support that he had been paying faithfully. My roommate is dating a girl who desperately wants to break her heart and my other roommate has this thing against relationships that last longer than it takes to throw the condom away. Basically, our love lives are all for shit even though some of us don't want to admit it.

I would so love to be the only realist in the group and I often pretend to be, but let's face it; we all know that I firmly believe that there is a minuscule percentage of people left in this world that are worth loving and my chances of finding one of them are slim. I probably don't fall anywhere near that percentage, by the way.
My point was supposed to be that no one cares when I meet a boy who gives me the butterfly tummy thing because it happens like, once a month or something like that and it always amounts to a whole lot of "what the hell is wrong with me" and then a whole lot more of nothing at all.

I think a part of my problem is that I don't actually want a relationship with anyone, really. I just want to get that feeling over and over again. I want to see someone and feel my heart pounding all the way down to my toes because there is so much potential for something big, something great and the newness is still there. There are still a million small elements of surprise and I get to come home dreaming about what the first kiss will be like and what his hands will feel like. And when his fingers press against my lower back or he leans close to whisper something into my ear, my nerves go into overdrive. I guess some people get lucky, and the new never wears off for them. Or more likely, they don't necessarily need the everlasting honeymoon period because they like that comfort zone that I say that I want, but really I don't because in reality, it's actually not all that comfortable for me.

So now I flit, and trust me, I've always wanted to use that word in a sentence. I discover a person, I decide that they are the best thing since warm, mozzarella-garlic bread and I let myself feel those things. Then I realize that the kisses don't enchant me and I realize that he is just a person after all and I give up on trying to be anything special for him because he is nothing special for me. Maybe he senses my disinterest before I do and then I get left behind for a shiny, new model. Or maybe I'm flattering myself and he just wakes up and is like, "Wow that was fun but okay I'm done here." And then I'm sitting here trying to figure out what the hell happened and I try to figure out why my heart hurts when I didn't even want to be in a relationship in the first place. My solution so far has been to only sleep with guys who have girlfriends because I mean, that's always exciting and I never have to worry about letting him sleep here or commitment or anything like that. But I guess this makes me a horrible, horrible person so I need a new solution and I am not actually open to suggestions, just so you know. I'm just trying to find a nook to hang out in between One Night Stand Land and Serious Relationship Island because I am not doing so hot over here in Casual Dating Hell.

This was too long. I just wanted to say that I met a guy. And he definitely gives me the butterfly tummy thing.

I've concluded that the best things happen to other people that are close to me so I can live to tell their stories. I guess I want to make them famous more than they do. Like my roommate that got bitten by a rabid cat because my other roommate let her in? And she didn't get bitten once, but twice. Twice. Twice? Twice. How does one get bitten twice, you ask? By continuing to pet it after the first bite. I realize that I am a terrible person for laughing maniacally everytime I tell the story, but really, if you heard it, you'd find it amusing. I am a firm believer of healing through laughter. It is time to let the healing begin. Anyway, I've told her story umpteen times since it happened three nights ago and even she finds it funny now kind of, so I don't feel so awful for finding mirth in this particular situation.

I found another reason to move. As if I needed another. This place has become Too Much Information Palace. Do I need to know exactly where you're fixing to wax and how hard this specific spot is to get at? Did I ask you about the director's chair in your bedroom? Do I really care that when you have sex with your girlfriend she insists on calling it The Slow Groove? I am overwhelmed with information and tidbits. I am drowning in trivia that will never be on Jeopardy! or Hollywood Squares. Is that still on the air? Is Whoopi still the center square? I digress. But I really do care. Someone let me know or else I'm going to have to embark on a Google journey that ends with me finding out somehow where Cute Waiter lives. I'm off Google this week, just so you know. And still I digress. Basically, yeah, I kind of guessed what all the racket was about but I don't need you to be explicit about who spanked who last night. Don't get me wrong; I'm no prude. I love details. Actually, sometimes I like details too much but not from the people that I live with who I don't want to picture naked from the waist down with a wax strip. Honestly. Some mysteries are better left unsolved.

Did Erykah Badu really break Tea Leoni's nose? What? She sang Kiss Me On My Neck. Andre 3000 kissed her pregnant belly. She is a lover, not a fighter. That can't be true.

part-time lover

With the considerable amount of crushes that I develop on women, my friends ask me why I won't date any of them. The answer is pretty simple: Women are shady. That's it. Sure, guys are jerks and pretty much none of them my age have any home training and what have you, but women have trifiling down to an art. I suspect that it's because we're smarter, but that is coming from a woman who always forgets when to attach an apostrophe s to 'it' as opposed to just an s.

I fell in love with a woman. Exactly one. She was the most beautiful person on the planet, no contest. Totally not my type with all of that blond hair, blue eyed thing going on. But you know when someone is so fucking cute that you could just eat their face? Yeah. Angela was so that cute. We dated and it was sweet and wonderful and terrific and then she broke up with me for her supposed ex-boyfriend who she had actually beens eeing for months before she decided to tell me. Who does that shit, really? Anyway, the story has an actual tragic ending that I would rather not talk about ever again until a therapist pries it out of me because I guess that people should deal with their PTSD or whatever.

And that has pretty much been the standard order of operations for me. I'll meet a girl and she'll pretend that I'm her sun, moon and stars for a few weeks. Then she'll tell me that she has a girlfriend. "Didn't you know?" No, actually. I didn't. Probably because you thoughtfully omitted it from your answer when I asked if you were seeing anyone. What is that? Who are these people that are so shamelessly unfaithful? I mean, I'm not saying this from some moral higher ground. I am a woman and therefore I am totally including myself when I say that women are shady. But these are the people who have guided me into my loss of faith in relationships. Everyone I meet seems to be bored with being a good partner. They want the security of monogamy but they don't want the familiarity. And they don't seem to care that they hurt a lover who is presumably being faithful.

Long story short, this is why I don't date women. Because Hannah waited until her partner was out of town on business before she made her move. Because Vanessa's boyfriend works the late shift. Anna's girlfriend hadn't moved here from Boston just yet. And so on and so forth.

It's not like I'm out there looking for a relationship because I'm really not. I don't typically have problems being with someone who is already seeing someone. That way I know that we are all in it for the same things and no one is being lied to. We all know where we stand. But with these women lately, it seems like they want to have a serious thing with both me and the person that they've been seeing for years, only that other person can not, under any circumstances, find out. It just doesn't work that way with me. I need top or at the very least equal billing. I don't like running around and having girls calling me in the middle of the night threatening to cut me and all that bullshit.

So I guess my real answer is, until I find a woman who isn't on a steady path of trickery and deceit, I guess I'll have to spend my days bitching about how men aren't shit.