I can’t help it if boys want to fall in love with me

My friend, Ms. K, who keeps dating that Jerk, told two of our mutual friends that she thinks Church Boy and I moved too fast.

And she didn’t mean physically fast–since that would be hypocritical of her since she sleeps with her men after less than a week of knowing them–but she meant emotionally fast. As in, Church Boy and I moved too fast by committing to be exclusive after about a month.

I would just like to point out that in the same amount of time that it has taken for her Jerk to actually call her his girlfriend, I have had TWO–not one, but TWO–boys fall in love with me.

I may be single now, and she may still be with Jerk, but I at least know that my boys were completely and totally into me the whole time they were with me and I didn’t have to wait a year for them to decide they liked me enough to call me their girlfriend.

And that’s all I have to say about that. *dusts hands off*

I’m not hopeless enough yet to do Match

I was going to title this post “I’m not desperate enough yet to do Match” but I didn’t want to offend anyone.

I’ve done Match. Twice, actually. My first experience was the three-day free trial about a week after The Ex and I officially ended our half-decade relationship. I was hopeless. Daunting life questions consumed my mind, mainly: “how am I ever going to meet anyone ever again?”

I went on one date during the free trial and realized I was sooo not ready for this.

I preoccupied myself with dating guys I met in real life… at bars. Because we all know how much better it is to meet guys at a bar. I mean, the quality of men is just…mind altering? (if you haven’t noticed the sarcasm by now, we obviously need to work on our communication skills).

After I screwed around with bar boys, He Who Shall Not Be Named and The Doctor, I swore off men….for about a week.

And then re-joined Match. *sigh*

I was hopeless, I was desperate.

The first two weeks were pretty awesome. I was getting adoring emails–these guys really liked me! (and 50 other girls, but that’s not the point!) I was setting up dates, sometimes two in one night and this was several times a week. After a month, I was exhausted.

I narrowed it down to Nice Guy, because he was nice. And this other boy I had met through a work thing.  Work Thing was not head over heels for me (and we all know how I feel about that) so I cut him loose and settled for Nice Guy. Key word: Settled.

I settled because I was hopeless. I was desperate. Because I thought out of all the dates I’ve been on in the past month–and I was definitely in the double digits–this was the best I could do. I didn’t date Nice Guy because I really liked him, I dated him because there was no one else.

For every story I hear about how someone met The One on Match, I hear 100 horror stories of psychos, mama’s boys, and just plain old weirdos.

My friend, Chatty, is now on Match. She says–besides the entertainment value–it gives her confidence to know that guys want her. “You should join,” she tells me.

Thanks sistah. But I have confidence. Confidence in myself that I should be alone for a while and let my life settle down so that I don’t ever settle again.

I am not hopeless; I am not desperate; and I really don’t need the entertainment value.

This is my mindset now…but get back to me after a few months of being dateless and my opinion may change… *wink, wink*

25 going on 12…

I went to see HANSON–I can die happy now.

“Who?” (<– this is you)

Hanson! you know…MMMBop…like from 10 years ago?

Yes my dear people, they were at the House of Blues in Anaheim on the final night of their seven-week tour (tour? yeah, i had NO clue they even had a tour!).

When I was 12, I was completely obsessed. I had stacks of posters…I even ordered the special 8 by 10 glossies. I bought Teen Beat and those other teeny bopper magazines to fulfill my obsession. I spent HOURS listening to the radio, hoping to score a pair of tickets to their concert.

SO when I found out they were playing nearby, I dragged a friend to go with me. The show was freakin’ sold out!! It was unbelievable. I thought I was weird for (still) knowing all the words to their first album, but here there were HUNDREDS of girls singing along to songs I had never even heard of.

And I liked it! I actually just downloaded a couple more of their songs from Itunes.

I don’t know what it was about that night, but the 12-year-old girl inside of me lived on.

In continuing with my NEW ATTITUDE, I have taken advantage of every opportunity that has come my way. I have reached out to acquaintances to try and develop stronger friendships and I am moving forward. I feel 100% better than I did last week.

“You have so many relationships in this life, only one or two will last, you go through all this pain and strife and you turn your back and they’re gone so fast, SO fast. SO hold on to the ones who really care, in the end they’ll be the only ones there…”

i SO just quoted MMMBop from memory!

Today is Day ONE

“Ok Erika, you’ve been acting like a little baby. And you are not. You are a grown ass woman. So get your act together, suck it up and walk out there like the world is your own freakin’ catwalk! MEOW-OW!”

That, ladies and my one gentleman reader (that’s you, Phampants!), is the pep talk I gave myself late last night.

I took a page straight out of Katie’s playbook and decided I need to cut off contact with Church Boy–or else I will always remain dependent on him and I will always resent him.

So we did. We said our tearful goodbyes and I deleted his number off my phone!

Today is DAY ONE of no contact. But it is also DAY ONE of my new attitude. Who says we need to wait till 2010 to make some new year resolutions?

I think anytime you commit yourself to moving forward, you have to have a plan. So here is my plan.

1. I’m going to keep busy. The only times I start to feel depressed is when I have nothing to do. So I’m going to start making plans–even if the plan is to not have plans. Like for example, if I find myself dateless and friendless on a Friday night, my plan will be to get a mani-pedi, rent a movie, order takeout and treat myself to some fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies.
2. I’m going to make new friends. This is really hard, but I’m going to start putting myself out there. I tend to keep to myself, especially when I don’t know people, but there is no way I am ever going to make new friends this way. So the New Attitude Erika is going to say ‘hi’ and be friendly and reach out to anyone and everyone. For example, today I actually had a 5-minute conversation with a woman at the gym. I NEVER talk to ANYONE at the gym. I’m a get-in, get-out kinda girl (hehe….that could be dirty…) But New Attitude Erika is friendly and nice to everyone!
3. I’m going to reconnect with past acquaintances. I think most people are willing to help another person out–it’s in our nature as good people. So today, I emailed an old friend from church whom I lost touch with and I asked her if I could tag along with her to church this Sunday, rather than going by myself. I also emailed an old (currently unemployed) co-worker and asked her if she wanted to go to Happy Hour next week. The New Attitude Erika is reaching out to everyone.
4. I’m going to volunteer. Thanks to the fabulous Classroom Confessions, I have contacted my local Junior League about volunteer opportunities. Because nothing feels better than doing something for someone else. Except maybe for sex…and eating….but you know…besides those things…
5. I’m going to plan Blogger Cruise Festival 2010! That’s right. Thank Katie and Shannon for giving me the inspiration…now those two girlies better commit so that I don’t go on this cruise by myself. Blogger Cruise Festival will be a place for bloggers (duh) to connect and meet the people we know SO much about. What a concept! It’s fun fun fun! So let me know if you’re interested…all the info we have right now is that it’s a cruise, and it will be sometime in 2010…

Watch out! New Attitude Erika is on a mission to take control of the world, the blogosphere, her life!

Twenty-something Meltdown?

I’m freaking out.

I noticed yesterday that I am exactly in the same place I was two years ago. I am completely dependent on a guy whom I don’t really want to be with but whom I cling to because I fear being alone, without a solid group of friends to lean on for support.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. What about learning from your mistakes? Growing as a person? Having no regrets? and all those other bullshit one-liners people feed you to make themselves feel better of whatever misstep they’ve committed.

I deactivated my Facebook account. Total freakout and impulsive move, I know. But it was hard to look at that list of ‘friends’ and realize there’s only a handful of people out of that whole list that I would really call in a crisis situation.

I need to re-group, collect my thoughts, wean myself off of Church Boy and get out there and meet new people–and by people, I mean friends. Real good girl friends.

I don’t understand why it’s so hard to meet people my age. I think I’m pretty cool! But I spend most of my days at work. And it seems that people I do meet that are my age, sort of have their own group of friends already. I guess I’m going to have to branch out, stick my hand out there to anyone who shows remote interest in friendship…

I guess now that on the outside I have the life I’ve always envied of others–nice car, fabulous job, Newport Beach townhome–it’s like now I have to reevaluate who I am as a person…you know, without all those superficial material things.

I don’t like that I’m dependent on a guy. I don’t like that my closest friends live across the country. And I don’t like that I don’t have that one awesome good girl friend whom I could just call to hang out with me.

I am alone and it feels lonely.

 

Look baby, I’m a heartbreaker

I think I know why I am almost always the heartbreaker, and rarely the heartbroken.

My secret is I won’t waste my time on boys who aren’t completely totally kiss-the-ground-my-cathyjean-boots-walk-on  INTO me.

Let me give you a brief overview:

1. First Boyfriend: I ended it.
2. High School Boyfriend: He ended it. (but he called me six months afterward. No, I didn’t take him back.)
3. The Ex: I  ended it the first time. And the second time–officially.
4. He Who Shall Not Be Named (aka that boy): I ended it.
5. Nice Guy: I ended it.
6. Church Boy: I ended it.

Okay, now that we’re all caught up. First Boyfriend–totally into me. The Ex–totally into me. Nice Guy–totally into me. Church Boy–totally into me.

He Who Shall Not Be Named? ASSHOLE. And even then, I ended it because I realized he just wasn’t totally into me.

Guys should chase after girls, not the other way around. Yes, you could argue that men like to be hit on, but showing interest vs. fawning over a man like a puppy dog to a cheese biscuit has never been deemed cute.

It’s not that I believe we’re in the 1950s or anything (although sometimes I swear I wish it could be like it was back then…) but I firmly believe that if a guy likes you, he will be with you. It is that easy.

There won’t be mixed signals, there won’t be excuses (trust me, girls, EVERYONE has heard the “well, maybe he’s shy,” “he just got over a break-up,” “maybe he’s scared to commit,” “he wants to take things slow,” “[insert another stereotypical excuse here]“). If a guy likes you, he will be with you and no excuse in the planet will get in his way.

Let me repeat that because I want to make sure you all get it: IF A  GUY LIKES YOU, HE WILL BE WITH YOU.

We need to stop feeding ourselves excuses. It’s not right. Yes, we can still pine over the guy even if he doesn’t chase after us–but we pine over them in the privacy of our own bedroom, with the two men in our lives who will NEVER let us down, Ben and Jerry.

It’s not that we don’t want to chase after these guys. Of course we want to. Fuck, it hurts that they don’t want to be with us!

BUT if a man can’t recognize how absolutely fabulous I am…well then, that’s a man who is obviously not smart enough to be with me.

And this is how I have managed to do most of the heartbreaking in my relationships…

Once upon a time, there was this boy…

Because I love proving to everyone how absolutely unbelievably cRazAzy I am, let me share with you a story.

There was this boy, whom I really liked. Like REALLY liked.

At first, it appeared this boy really liked me too. On our first date, he said “are you this much fun all the time?”

Why yes, boy, I am.*wink, wink*

He then asked me out on our second date, for the NEXT day. He couldn’t even wait till I got home from our first date, THAT’s how much he liked me.

I saw him three days in a row that weekend.

The next month was a whirlwind. He would call every other day. He invited me to go on a weekend getaway with his cousins. He talked about us visiting his family over the summer. He asked me what day was my birthday so he could make sure to request the night off from work. He used the term ‘boyfriend’ once. He called me while he was with his mother and showed my picture to her, and she said on the phone that I had very pretty eyes.

All signs pointed to “whipped.”

And then the days between phone calls grew longer and longer. It was no longer him accommodating to my schedule, but me accommodating to his.

And then the phone calls wouldn’t come. And I would text him and offer myself up as a booty call. And the phone calls still wouldn’t come. SO I would call him. And it would go to voicemail. And then it was even worse because I couldn’t call AGAIN and he still hadn’t called! And I would be stuck to my phone like a crackwhore to a dollar bill.

And I couldn’t end it. I still couldn’t end it. I really liked that boy.

I was that girl who believed drunk texts meant he liked me, who thought booty calls were just the way people dated nowadays,  I was that girl who sacrificed everything she believed in to be with that boy.

But I am not that girl anymore.

This is how the story with That boy ended. Next post: Why I’m always a heartbreaker…

I cried, I felt alone, I broke

I cried. Like really, full-out shoulders-shaking heaving sobs.

My father and brother had just left after dropping off my bed. And here I was, alone, standing in the middle of this room with high ceilings and a big closet and piles of boxes, baskets and bags everywhere.

It was everything I had wanted for so long, but all I could do was cry.

Earlier that day, I had kissed my mother goodbye. “Okay, I’m leaving…” I said as I planted a kiss on her cheek. “Que te vaya bien,” she said. good luck…

And now here I was, back in this empty room. I cried and cried. I could not stop crying. Who am I going to talk to when I come home now? Instead of dinner being ready, I’m going to have to cook for myself. There won’t be any noise coming from my brothers arguing or from the television blaring my dad’s trashy Spanish soap operas; there will be no more Sunday mornings fighting with my mom over the newspaper sections…

I was supposed to go out with my friends for dinner, but they both canceled because they were too hungover from Halloween festivities. Both my roommates–whom I barely even know–were not at the house.

I cried because I was alone. I cried because this wasn’t how I had pictured it. In my head, my mom was going to help me decorate my room, and everything would look pretty and I would feel like a grown-up.

But I don’t feel like a grown-up at all, and I don’t want to be a grown-up. There are so many things you have to buy that you take for granted when you live with your parents…ziploc bags, soy sauce, soap.

And I feel so immature, but it is just so overwhelming. When I studied abroad in Italy, I lived with three other girls and I had to account for all my own items. But this is different…I was surrounded with friends in Italy…here, I am alone…I don’t even have my mom to lean on.

I broke. I called Church Boy. Please help me, I told him, I can’t do this on my own.

He came over. He helped me. And by the time he left, I felt a million times better.

But I still need him. Because I can’t do this on my own. I’m just not strong enough.

 

Another fantasy that won’t become a reality

So I was totally supposed to go to Portland, Oregon for work on Tuesday. And I was totally going to fly on my main boss’ private jet.

And then it somehow got downgraded to a commercial flight. Which was fine with me, I still love traveling, especially when it’s a place I’ve never visited before.

And so then of course, I thought about how I’m going to wear my cute business suit. And how I would look all professional. And I would board the plane and ‘oh my…well hello there cute boy sitting next to me on the plane.’

And I was going to talk to this fictional cute boy. And we were going to laugh on the whole plane ride. And when we got off the plane, I would be at baggage claim (although now that I think about it, this doesn’t make sense because really, who even checks bags anymore? I cram everything into my carry-on, plus it’s only a one-day trip, but that’s besides the point– you guys are ruining my fantasy with your practicality!) and he would say “Erika, do you have a card?” (because that’s what business people do nowadays) and I would hand him my card and we would both smile knowingly…

And that’s where my fantasy ended. And now my fantasy will not become a reality, because I am NOT going to portland for work on tuesday because one of my other boss’ said i should stay to send out some stupid press release we won’t even get coverage for because it’s not really a news release but rather a bragging piece of paper…ugh!

It doesn’t matter that for four years I flew back and forth to Boston from LA/Orange County for college and I never ONCE got to sit next to a cute boy on the plane……Hey, a girl can still hope, right?

Moving out with a heavy heart

I moved almost all the stuff out of my room today and into my new room at a townhome I will be sharing with two other girls.

I am officially moving out of my house. I have been looking forward to this day for a long, long time. I’ve wanted to move out several times before but couldn’t afford it.

And now I can.

Some days...

Other days...

But instead of being overjoyed with the idea of starting my new life as a grown-up, my heart is heavy.

I got into a pretty horrific argument with my mom. It was so stupid. We were just about to start putting all my stuff into the moving truck this morning when my mother noticed some hangers on my clothes that I was going to take to a consignment store.

She told me to make sure to bring the hangers back to her. I said, yes I would, just like I have with all the other clothes’ hangars I’ve given back to her. Somehow this small conversation, which really could have ended there, escalated into a full-out screaming match over twenty stupid clothes hangers that couldn’t be worth more than $5.

I was angry that she cared so much over these stupid hangers (‘you always just throw stuff away and i like these ones to hang dry cltohes!” she said) and that I had spent more than $100 buying my own clothes hangers and she was going to bitch about freakin’ 20 hangers?

And she was angry that I was yelling at her.

It was stupid. I’m typing it now and it seems ridiculous. And yet, I have not spoken to my mother since then–and I am typing this at 8:47 pm on Halloween night. I have tried to ‘apologize’ twice, but apologize is not really the right word as I was still sort of yelling.

My mother and I…well, we don’t always get along. Sometimes she is my best friend and I tell her a lot of things, but other times I feel like I can’t really talk to her at all. Looking back, a lot of important milestones have been capped by altercations between us.

Senior prom? screaming match and she threatened not to take me to the dance. High School graduation? argument over High School Boyfriend. College graduation? another spat.

I am dreading my wedding day for this exact reason.

She’s a mom, just like any other mom. She has to have her way. Chores have to be done her way, the right way. She wants me to tell her everything, but she really doesn’t. She offered to get me birth control, but she still wants to believe I don’t have sex. She yelled at me when I would spend the night at Church Boy’s. To my mexican mother, a lot of my worth as a woman is still attached to my ‘purity.’ She thinks she’s forward-thinking, but I could never, ever tell her some of the things I’ve written in this blog.

When I have tried to stand up for myself, assert myself, rebel against my Mexican heritage that allows my two younger brothers to be given better privileges, I have been shut down. She won’t even listen to me anymore when I start saying “But how come they can do that?”.

She is my mother–the only mother I have– and I love her. But I wish I could have a mother that I could really talk to.

I understand that right now I’m angry, I’m hurt, and it’s entirely possible that we will become best friends again tomorrow. But today– this argument over $5 worth of hangers– has reminded me that this is exactly why I need to move out.