Husband Hunting part 2

After B and I broke up (one of the times, I can't remember which), I had a nice long talk with my roommate, L. She astutely pointed out that I really haven't been single since high school.

Huh.

Really? It'd been that long? I don't really think of it like that. I'm always "Oh, no, I had a relationship and that was almost 3 years and then I had another one and that was just under 2 years. And I dated some guy for like a month. And then tried it again with the 2 year guy for the holidays." But that doesn't really explain it. I was single for the summer after K and I broke up (having dated 2.5 years), before dating K again from the fall until the winter, at which point there was maybe a month before I dated B, but we broke up after a year and a half then it was probably a month before I dated-ish BMD, but things got serious too quickly so I went back to B for a few months and now it's been 9 or so months that we haven't been dating, but half the people I interact with accuse me of dating him anyway. The off periods total a little over a year. Maybe. If I'm being generous. Since high school, I have been single for roughly a year. And a majority of that has come only recently.

"You've changed since high school. What you want from a relationship is different," L said. But I know that. I have blog posts about it. "I've been single a lot so now that I'm with M, I actually know what I want." But I do know what I want, don't I? I keep saying I'm ready for a lifelong relationship, I don't want short term. I want someone to be my partner throughout life. I know that. But am I ready for it?

J bugged me about the same thing. I need to know how I operate. Love languages, she calls them. Take a quiz and it'll tell you your levels in each of 5 love languages. I got the max in "Quality Time", just above half in "Words of Affirmation", just below half in "Physical Touch" and "Acts of Service", and one point for "Gifts". The site I went to tells me that I "crave togetherness". So I want to be around my partner. Like bloody all the time. Yeah, already knew that I feel loved by spending time with my partner. I feel supported just by being around someone. I don't necessarily want to talk and I don't necessarily want to be in physical contact with the person, I just want to know they're around. Hell, I do this with my roommates; it's why I always leave my door open. I want to be in my space, but I want to know that people are around. So what was the point of taking this quiz?

Basically, I've got two people telling me that I don't know what I want, and me saying I do. So. Remember my old list? We're examining it, cleaning it up, and being transparent about the edits. I feel like I left a lot of things out about the life I want with my husband. And that's kind of important to talk about with future husband and make sure we've got overlap. That said, there is wiggle room. You can always negotiate. Brackets are to further explain my reasoning behind some additions/changes.

• Smart: Preferably Smarter than me. I like being challenged. I want to have meaningful conversations about what each of us is studying/teaching/doing along with discussing what is going on in our country and the world.
• Foodie: I don't care if he can cook, I don't care if he wants to have fast food 10 times a week. He should be able to cook without burning the house down. He should try and avoid fast food. [more falls under Health category] But He will enjoy spending hours at specialty food stores with me, even if we don't buy anything, and not just for the fact we are spending time together. He will not mind going out and spending $100+ on a dinner out. The frequency depends on his...
• JobCareer/Money: I don't much care what he does, but if he makes less than I make as an entry level teacher or journalist, he's out. I want a life where I don't have to work if I don't want to and not worry too much about the impact that will have on our lifestyle. I do not mind those who will think I wish to be a kept wife. I like how I was raised, but I watch my mom and I can tell something is missing for her. And I think that was having a career. I'm a little off topic; Adjusting for inflation a little, let's say I'd like my husband to make 60k+/year. (So with that we can go for that kind of dinner once every 3 months-ish? Maybe I should bump that salary up...) Doesn't feel the need to share bank accounts once married [so we can mostly live off his earnings, while putting most of mine into various savings accounts]. Uses a monthly budgeting tool [eg. Mint.com]. 
• Socially Liberal: I care about economic leanings a bit, but I can put those differences aside. It's super difficult for me to deal with people who aren't socially liberal. Even socially moderate it kinda bugs me. I like talking about politics and I can't stand it if my SO has opposing views. disagrees with me. Because I don't want to argue about that. So we better agree.
• Geeky: Ways can vary. But if it's not obvious after the first date, forget it. I'm geeky. If geekiness isn't invited, I'm outie. My partner should share that as well.
• World Traveller: If not yet, then aspires to. Has a list of places he wants to go and why. Must have passport within a year of us dating. Does not allow it to expire. Takes a vacation once a year, preferably at least a week long. Travels by car, plane and boat. And whatever future forms of travel become popular. Trains, if they make a comeback?
• Open Communication: Has a "take me as I am" attitude about who he is. Acknowledges his past, does not let it rule him. Already knows self and expects that I know myself as well. Doesn't try to change that, but constantly searches for compromises in areas where we disagree. Doesn't have secrets in the relationship. Discusses issues frankly and as soon as is reasonable. Trusts me with his secrets, as I trust him with mine. Understands how I get angry. Accepts it, but helps me be better about it. Isn't afraid to upset me because he knows I'll calm down with 30 minutes of alone time. Works with me to improve our communication (because there will be times it will suck). Doesn't give up. Will hold me accountable to the same standard.
• Dog Lover: Can like cats, but if it boils down to it will pick dogs over cats. Wants a dog to raise with family. Will love my dog, but accepts it is MY dog. Likely has own animal. If neither of us have a dog, will go to Humane Society with me to volunteer and/or go to dog parks to interact with dogs. (This can be just to spend time with me. Less important than foodie.)
• Follows a Sport: Doesn't have to be my sport/s. Just a sport. Different ones are actually ideal so we can learn about each other's teams. If he likes the Calgary Flames he is automatically disqualified. I. Don't. Care. Very serious about that.
• Reads: I don't care what. I don't care how. It can be history books from the library or the latest D&D rules he just downloaded dl/ed. Just read. There is always time to read. [so much information is consumed visually these days, but those who regularly consume the written word tend to be smarter]
• Kids: Does not want a biological child. Is open to adoption or fostering, but isn't set on it. Isn't set against it either. If it is decided down the road that we are both for, then only in very limited quantities, only after the child has a college savings account started and only after both parties are in agreement on staying in one location for the next 10-15 or so years. Also in agreement that we still travel like fools and teach the kid to be awesome in public.
• Location: No cities smaller than 50k. This applies to suburban cities around much larger metros. City will be a blend of ethnicities [I hate the term "diverse"]. City will have multiple cultures as well as it's own [relatively] unique culture. City will be liberal-leaning [though try finding one that meets the other criteria that isn't]. Country is negotiable.
• Health: Won't let me become diabetic. [This can mean and includes many things, from not getting a lot of fast food with me, to helping me find a way to grade papers and work out at the same time. I don't know exactly what yet. He just won't let it happen. And yeah, okay, we're tapping into one of my greatest fears here, but that's another post] Won't let himself become diabetic either.
• Time: Largely wants to function as a unit outside of work (ie, go do stuff together with either block's groups), but wants to plan the unit's time. Plans can be simple (Netflix and delivery) or elaborate (concert and new dining place), but if plans are made for that night those plans are not broken. If no plans are made, block can make non-unit plans without warning and other block cannot get upset. Thinks creating a Google Calendar for blocks' schedules is actually a good idea.
• Marriage: Wants to eventually. Mainly for tax purposes. Only after already living together. Not in a church.
• Religion: Either isn't religious, or doesn't try and convert me. Doesn't expect me to attend services, but always invites me. Doesn't expect me to strictly observe any religious holidays, but does expect me to be respectful and helpful for his. Isn't opposed to attending celebrations for other religion's holidays (ie, attending a Passover if the partner isn't Jewish).
• Bonus Points Given For Physical Appearance: Taller than 5'10", dirty blonde hair, exceptionally well groomed facial hair (if any, no full beards), no 6-pack or beer gut (firm to squishy, but no rock hard or jiggle, savvy?), does not wear obvious athletic shoes unless exercising. None of those are requirements. No one will be eliminated based on them. It's just an ideal that I want to make note of. Just like I hope some guy is making note that they want a curvy, small waisted, brown haired, blue eyed, 5'6" girl who hardly ever wears make-up. Or, you know, maybe just a few of those.

It is different than I wanted before, but I think the biggest changes were the additions. I more closely examined what I want out of a relationship. It isn't just a list of likes and dislikes; now it's a more comprehensive "let's compare outlooks on life and see if we're compatible." Which is as it should be. I know what I need to be happy in a relationship and this list includes that.

I'm actually really nervous about publishing this list, but I've had it sitting here largely unchanged for the past 6 months so I think that speaks to its accuracy. Plus I've been thinking a lot about relationships lately (I tend to do that around finals) so what the heck, perfect timing, right? Oof. Here goes.

Unfashionable Teach

Soooooooo....

I created a teacher fashion blog. Come check it out here!

Diabetic

My mom is diabetic. She's struggled with it. A lot. The first Halloween after she found out was really difficult for her because basically her first doctor was like "No more sugar. Ever," so she saw all these treats tempting her but she couldn't have them. We used to have ice cream for dessert every night and suddenly that was gone from the house because Mom couldn't handle it. She was given an assortment of pills and when we moved to Indiana that assortment increased and kept increasing until she stopped taking them. What little weight she had lost came back on at least twofold. My dad staged an intervention and used me as a crying emotional weapon to scare her back into taking her meds.

It worked for about a month. Then she went right back to not caring. I think in many ways, my mom was depressed and didn't want to seek help. But more than that, I think she was fed up of letting a schedule of pills run her life. Eventually something snapped and she started making an effort to change.

She started running. She did a 5k, then a couple of 10ks, then decided she wanted to run a marathon in Disneyworld when she turned 50. So she worked her way up, ran a half marathon before that, and ran the full marathon. It's been two years and she mostly sticks to half marathons now, but through exercise and a little bit of dieting, she is now 10 pant-sizes smaller than what she was when she was diagnosed.

My mom doesn't take as many pills now and she doesn't test her blood as often. Both her parents are diabetic too. My grandma tests her blood everyday and eats only low-fat, sugar-free foods, regardless of the chemicals in them. She takes a concoction of pills and doesn't work out exactly, but she stays active. She's doing okay for a woman over 80, though she looks frail. My grandpa doesn't test his blood and doesn't workout and doesn't take pills and snacks worse than the grandkids. He's not doing okay. His eyesight is impaired to the point he couldn't get a driver's license. He has had heart surgery. Twice. He is very arthritic.

Statistics show that I will be diabetic too. It's genetic at this point and not really related to weight, but still this belly I've grown over the past year has me terrified. My mom's been trying for the past two years to get my blood tested. I don't want to know. I don't want to be a 20something who must adhere to a doctor's diet made for overweight housewives in their 40s with disposable incomes. I don't want to be ruled by pills. Just give me my 20 more years of freedom. Of blissful ignorance.

When the fear of becoming diabetic sets in, I go into a fervor. I'll try and control my weight by either diet or exercise. Never both at the same time. I've become vegetarian and counted calories and gone to the gym everyday to do the same workout over and over. Currently it's exercise in the form of pilates and yoga and zumba. Workout without realizing you're working out. Trick your mind into thinking you're having fun. Because that's the only thing that seems to stick with me.

I've never had an issue with how I look, which seems to be the most common reason for dieting and working out. I never look at myself and think, "Oh, this is unhealthy, I should lose weight." I always think, "You're going to become diabetic sooner with that belly." It's always belly. Never cottage cheese legs, never flabby arms. Always belly. And this word that haunts me. Diabetic. I'm going to be diabetic.

It means high blood sugar and high cholesterol and clogged arteries and arthritis and amputated fingers and feet. It means I either have to become a health nut, a pill junkie or a health risk. Death has always been my greatest fear, but lately diabetes has been threatening to take over that spot. I am scared of an incurable yet incredibly treatable disease. If someone walked up to me and told me I was diabetic, I'd be paralyzed. I'd freeze and become numb, not knowing how to react.

Now, logically, I'm sure I'd have the good sense to get myself to a doctor, get a testing kit and start monitoring my blood sugar and changing my diet and maintaining an exercise routine and hope and pray that I don't have to take too many pills, but I don't want that for myself. I don't want to do those things for a disease. I want to do them for me. Because it'll make me a better person. I'm just not seeing that yet. I'm sure you guys are saying, "But if you have proper diet and exercise now you'll stave off diabetes later and that makes you a better person." My brain doesn't make the connection that way. It's the same as telling an otherwise perfectly healthy person, "Hey, exercise now and live longer." We all know it, but it's just not motivating.

Fear is motivating, to a point. Fear motivates me until I forget what I was fearful of in the first place or become so overwhelmed by it that I give up. I either see/feel results and stop making that change, or I don't see results quick enough that I stop making that change. I want to break this cycle, I just don't know how.

Roommates

It's interesting living 18 years without having to share hardly a thing, then suddenly being expected to get along swimmingly with whoever the random person you're paired with is.

It's a beautiful thing when it works out amazingly. It's never happened for me though. That's not to say that I don't love my roommates. I do, always have, always will. But every year I feel like I've fought some big conflict with a person I'm living with at the time.

But I've seen it work. When K lived with random people, he and his military bound roommate got along like none other. They watched all the same TV shows and introduced each other to the music each of them liked and within 3 months were singing along with the other's music and even having mini dance parties. I was the witness to this dynamic. There was S, the military IT major. D, the token Asian who everyone picked on. Then there was P, the pharm school guy. K and P hit it off originally - their mutual geekiness brought them together, but it was S and K that forged the strongest bond.

It's nice being able to see that those types of bonds are possible between roommates.

I had a really weird flashback to that today. My boyfriend, B, and his co-worker B (let's call him BMD) hit it off as soon as they started working together. B and BMD bonded initially over TV. Now they've realized they both share the same shitty taste in music. When that song came on, they both just started dancing. They've serenaded me, drinking in the backseat of my car. They're thinking about moving in together and I can just see them being exactly like K and S. It makes me happy to think that I can visit them next year and, oh, I dunno, I'll accidentally walk in on them playing a Taylor Swift song on Rock Band. And then they'll actually fairly justify it!

I haven't had much luck with roommates. It's never been absolutely horrible, but it's never been that perfect experience. But that's okay. I'll manage by living vicariously through other's perfect pairings.

Sizing You Up

I don't shop at Hollister. Not because I am against the brand or I don't like their styles - I do like some, and frequently shop at one of the company's affiliates, American Eagle (but stray away from their other, Abercrombie and Fitch). I don't shop there simply because I can't fit into their clothes. You might think I'm joking, but I assure you, I'm not. It's rather silly because, as I mentioned, I love to shop at American Eagle and, obviously, I wouldn't shop there unless I fit into their clothes. And, at their store, I can, quite easily. I practically live in their jeans (oh, I'm such a fool for that marketing campaign). But Hollister? I must not be their demographic.

Let's throw a few facts out here first, shall we? I am 5 feet, 6 inches and hover between 135 and 145. We'll stay with 145 to favor the companies. My waist is around 26 and my hips are 38. I'm a 32D and I've got curves in back too. Look up hourglass figure in the dictionary and I'm fairly certain you'll see my picture. Positive self-image? Most definitely. Now then, I wear a medium sized shirt and 6-8 jeans. This includes the 7 in juniors styles and the 27-29 range of designer brand style sizing. And at American Eagle, I fit this perfectly. I have only medium shirts and dresses from there and both 6 and 8 pants - depending on the style.

But at Hollister? I can't fit my rear into their size 9 jeans. My boobs pop out of their medium shirts - and the large shirts for that matter. Their large so so soft comfy sweatpants don't cover my crack (oh Hollister, if only your sweatpants covered my rump, you'd have all my money forever) (Omg, they have a pair that do now and they're so wonderful and soft and were half off! Yay!). And it goes beyond that. While sometimes (NOT all the time, darn you and your utilitarian guarding of your sweatpants styles, darn you!) extended sizes are offered online, in store size 9 and L are the largest sizes you'll find. But XS and even XXS are plentiful.

So look, I know I'm not overweight. I'm comfortable with my weight and my proportions (except that one time when I was 16 and my grandmother told me I had "child-bearing hips"). I'm not here to critique Hollister's practices. They're running a business and their business model is working for them. But that doesn't mean I won't question it.

Did you know, a size 0 today would have worn a 14 in the late 30s and an 8 in the late 60s? Vanity sizing is becoming a huge issue in our society (take a peek at the infographic on that link). So...that's kind of why I refuse to get mad at Hollister for not carrying my size. Because who's to say what is my size? In America, we don't have a standard for measuring clothing sizes. And while it's not as big of an issue for men (or so my experience has been when shopping with male relatives/friends/SOs), it's a huge issue for women.

And then throw the whole issue that the average American woman is a size 14 (or has it changed since I last heard? I'm afraid I couldn't find an authority on this) and we're just confusing everyone. Is that a size 14 now or a size 14 in the 80s? Wouldn't that be about a 20 by now? Would they have even made clothes for what today we call plus sized women back in the 40s? Does the plus size designation encourage size vanity (different from vanity sizing)?

I happened to purchase a skirt and a cardigan at a secondhand store a couple months back. The two items I purchased were from Hollister. They're both larges, but were in with the rest of the mediums. The skirt has an elastic waist and, well, fits just about perfect. The cardigan....let's just say, it's a good thing I plan on only wearing it open. I was kind of bothered by seeing that they were size L. I'll own up to it. Despite all my image positivity, I wasn't comfortable buying large sizes. I'm a medium. Medium on top, medium on bottom. Not a large. But in the 80s, would I have been a large? Could I have been a large? Or would the general size designations have shifted as well? A 14 would be the start of the larges and a 10 the mediums and a 4 the smalls?

It's a slippery slope that we're on, and I really think it needs to stop. Most other countries have standard sizes which surprisingly aren't too different from ours. If we could just have the clothing industry conform to one standard, it would make life so much easier.

And I could wear medium sweatpants from Hollister until the end of time.

Coming Clean

My darling friend, J, has been putting up brief snippets of her diary recently. I decided I'd do something in the same vein. I've really been meaning to tell this story, if for no other reason than to get it out there, but that rather ignores all the true reasons I'm telling this story. It's not a happy story, or a funny story, and it's not necessarily a sad story either. But it's the truth. As unbiased as it can get when recounting the end of one relationship and the start of another.

The true end. You all already know the false end, when K and I broke up over the summer. Perhaps I shouldn't say false, as that tends to imply that I intended to deceive. Maybe the first end is better.

Either way, come K's fall break he wanted to come visit me. I couldn't think of a reason to say no. The two guys I was crushing on at the time either weren't available or not interested, and by the end of that weekend, K and I were basically back together. I say basically because, well, we never said we were just dating each other. Only people at my university knew, and even then, I didn't go around telling anyone; they usually found out by accident. Whether it was seeing him visit me or asking where I was on a particular weekend, people started to find out. Most were surprisingly supportive - they felt K deserved a second chance, something I flipped back and forth on while deciding if I should get back with him in the first place. My parents eventually began to suspect something around Thanksgiving, when I said I was going out to watch a movie with K and some other friends. They didn't approve of my hanging out with him. I pretty much told them to shove it.

I can't say that things were the same, because they weren't. Things weren't better, or worse, but they weren't the same. It was just nice being with someone familiar, even if neither of us would consider it a real relationship. That became just another one of our issues. I didn't trust him to be loyal to just me. He didn't trust me not to hurt him. So neither would let our eyes wander and neither would let the other close enough to hurt or be hurt. Neither of us were terribly happy in the relationship, but that didn't stop us from trying to make adjustments for each other. I'd visit more, he'd compliment me more, things like that. There was always a solution, there was always something we could do to make it better, maybe not immediately, but that would eventually happen and we'd be happy. And we'd hold onto that like none other.

Until there were no solutions anymore.

Throughout that semester, K had been interviewing for various programming positions. He ended up with a few offers around the country. The one he was most interested in was in Phoenix. The one from a company he had previously worked for was in KC. I felt many of our issues could be resolved if he were to take the job offer in KC. He liked the company, already knew all the people he'd be working with and he'd be close to me. Once I graduated, he could move on to where ever he pleased and I'd follow. The week he was doing final interviews with the company in Phoenix, we got into a huge argument about him not really preparing for the interviews. He had settled on an Indy based company (KC company hadn't gotten back to him yet, I was still holding out) and he didn't really care anymore. I was upset because I felt this was foolish and immature. During his Phoenix visit, he wouldn't talk to me. Until one night.

It was Sunday, right before finals week. B had been flirting with me all week and weekend and we'd hung out...5 nights of 6? Something like that. That night, I was over at his friend's house with him and two other couples, one male member being his closest cousin. They got drunk. We played Presidents and Assholes and it just so happened that I would be the one who could tell B what to do. This mostly was just "take a drink" but the hostess decided to get creative about it. She had been drinking a lot when she leaned across the table and asked, "So is this the girl you're trying to hook up with?" I cracked up while B remained silent (I swear he shrunk in his seat a little). Then, "I don't have to answer that if she says it, right?" "No, but you do if I tell you to. So answer the question." A pause. "Can I just drink?" "Sure, take a drink, but answer the question." "I don't hook up." If it hadn't been apparent where we were headed by then, it certainly was clear now. It wasn't just flirting, there were intentions behind it. On both ends, so don't think I'm trying to shirk my role in all this. Not half an hour later though, K texted me after almost a week of no communication. He wanted to talk to me. He missed me. I waited until I could leave without arousing suspicion, then booked it back to my apartment.

It should have been really simple. It should have been I come clean about flirting b/c I was feeling ignored , K gets understandably upset, we promise to work on it. Instead it ended up with K telling me to pursue a relationship with B and him logging off on me. Two hours later K starts texting me, saying he was wrong. I tell him I knew he was and it's okay. I tell him after finals, I'll see him in Indiana. Not three days later he's telling me I shouldn't make plans to see him over break and I'm trying to see B before I leave and it never happens and I return home frustrated, thinking this will just be a repeat of last semester.

The first few days suck. I spend my time texting L who is home in STL and avoiding my family. I spoil the dogs with attention and walks. I keep to myself. Until K texts and asks me out for coffee with another high school friend, H. I say yes. I don't know if they planned it, but H spends the whole time telling us how good it is that we've worked things out and we immediately fall into the role of the happy couple around the holidays. But, at least for me, that's all it was. An act. That blanket you throw on even though it's worn too thin to keep you warm. I knew that when Christmas came we wouldn't have gifts for each other and we wouldn't see each other's families and come New Year's I would be going to the annual party alone. I did go alone, but I ducked out early and headed over to my second mom's party, M, where the rest of my family was. At midnight both K and B text me. I don't remember what I said, only that I made a conscious decision to string both of them on and see which worked out. I'm not proud of that, don't mistake me. I'll tell you why I did it though: I didn't trust K to have his mind made up one way or another, and I couldn't trust B to actually be into me since he'd basically led me on at least once before.

The next day my brother and I headed out for a ski trip to Colorado. We stopped over at my university to save on hotel money. I decided we should go directly to B's house as he had invited me over to watch movies. We ended up cuddling on the couch until around 4am. My brother later tells me he felt like he was cockblocking just by being there. For the rest of the drive to Colorado, B and I start this game to keep me awake. We ask each other questions back and forth. I don't think of K until the fourth day of the trip when he texts me to see how it's going. We briefly update each other, but the sheer number of texts B has amounted against him speaks volumes. I brush it aside, knowing that K and I work better in person, still not wanting to fully believe that B liked me.

When I get back to IN, my parents are on vacation so I spend a few days at K's college before heading to mine. It's there we have a conversation about where he'll be working. He chose Phoenix, sent in his acceptance in the first few days of the year. I swallow my concerns, knowing stating them again would be viewed as not having faith in the relationship. Besides, it makes no difference now. Instead, I choose my words carefully and explain that I'm worried about doing the long distance thing again. I don't know that I can. I make it about me, a "me issue" instead of an "us issue." K holds me and tells me we'll make it work. But I don't believe him. When I leave I tell him that I don't think the relationship will work out in the long run and it would probably be best if we backed off. I thought this was us breaking up. He thought this was me continuing to voice my concerns.

When I get back to my university, it isn't long before B asks me out on a date. I accept. K and I have hardly been in contact, but there's enough doubt in my mind that I need to clarify he and I are over. It's the first day of class. I figure I should call him. I say I can't do this anymore and he just says okay. There's a silence for a bit, then he says he'll be right back and I think he's either gone to yell about me to his roommates or to get tissues. He comes back shortly. I say I'm sorry and he says I know and we hang up without another word. Later that week I go on the date with B. After the extremely...eventful date where he locks his keys in his car, I get a rose, we get stuck in snow trying to get out of my apartment complex, and fall asleep watching movies at his house, he asks me to be his girlfriend. Again, I accept.

Simply put, that's where the story ends. But it's never that simple with me, is it? The first few months of dating was a huge adjustment to me. I'd find myself saying phrases I used to say all the time with K just out of habit (example: like 2 or 3 weeks into it, I was being a playful-annoyance and to make sure B knew I was just joking around I flipping said, "Love me?" like I flipping always did with K. I about had a heart attack and thank god B pretended not to hear me b/c I was mortified the rest of the night) and I fell into the routine I had with K. I don't know if he realizes, but B broke me of my old habits. I stopped being so controlling in the relationship, I started voicing my complaints instead of letting them fester or internalizing them. Being in a relationship was so much easier and happier and more fun than I had remembered. B's fantastic communication skills started rubbing off on me and have helped our relationship so much, I'm not sure we'd have made it this far without them.

But then there is still K. First, he defriended and blocked me in every way possible, and I understood because he was upset with me. Then he unblocked me started texting me all the time and wanted to visit before he moved to Phoenix. Then he stopped talking to me because he didn't want to hear about my relationship (even though he wanted to tell me about his). Then he wanted to be friends with me, but I was going through a really rough time and couldn't put any decent effort in. Now he's in a "doesn't want to be friends" phase, only this time it's because he doesn't like me. But you know what? I'm okay with it. Sure, it hurts that someone I had a relationship with doesn't think I'm a person worth being friends with, but if he can't see that I'm a good person, that's not my fault. I still hope that K and I can be friends again someday, but I think it's very unlikely to happen.

So if you didn't make it through all that, basically about a year ago I cheated (definitely emotionally, not physically (at least in my book)) on two guys to get into a relationship that is going amazingly well that I might have just jeopardized by posting the story on the blog. Yeah, I think that about covers it.

Grocery Greeters

Lately, I've realized I don't like going grocery shopping alone. Even though it usually means taking two or three times as long to get what I need (for some reason, I'm really efficient at grocery shopping and many of my friends are not), it's okay. Because someone is there. To save me from them.

Now, when I say them, I don't literally mean the greeters at your grocery store of choice. I really mean the people who take it upon themselves to talk to the young woman shopping by herself. In the past few months, I've had someone give me advice on how to choose a mate, someone else tell me a joke about sex, someone else discuss the nitty gritty details of her custody battle and yet another fully stop me and explain the merits of particular brands of hard cider (though I had very fruity girly alcohol in my own hands). Along with the few regulars (as I call them), "Where'd you find X?", "Which X is better?" "How do you choose X-produce?". But those bother me far less. Let me be so so very clear. I do not seek advice, I do not speak to people who don't work at the place I am shopping (nor do I work at these locations), I am not a therapist and I do not like hard cider.

It's not as amusing as you'd think. In fact, it kind of scares me. I don't mean to seem like I'm terrified of strangers, not at least in this case. We're all grocery shopping, we're just going about our routines. It's okay to feel some sense of camaraderie. But seriously? I don't know you. I don't know your name, I didn't ask you a darn thing. The lady who told me about her custody battle? She started the whole thing by asking me about Diet Coke cans. Apparently, they've changed their design and it's all just too much change for her to handle.

...

Lady, hold it together. I've been through tough times too, including talking about murder and roommates in my first class of the day right after my roommate was murdered. It's okay. You're stressed and possibly on the verge of tears, but you're managing the best you can and that's good. But don't you dare think it's acceptable to walk up to some random person and rant to them.

When these situations happen, I find myself making noncommittal grunts and nods, sometimes even a half-smile. But I don't encourage them. I don't know what it is about me. I've got my list, I've got my cart, I'm moving through the store with purpose. Why do they feel like they can come up to me? Do any of you have stories about grocery greeters?