The Weekend Boyfriend

For the weekend of unSCruz, I had a boyfriend.

The Swede went with me and basically admirably filled the position.

  • He helped me load and unload my truck.

Twice!

  • He helped me get Tejas back to camp Friday night (after we lost him for 4 hours).
  • He helped cook and clean.
  • He wore costumes.
  • He held my hand and told me I was beautiful.
  • He kept me warm on the cold nights in Watsonville.
  • And he gave me a thorough tongue lashing.

Yes, that means EXACTLY what you think it does.

The Swede was sweet.

For all my worries that he would have trouble fitting in, The Swede did JUST FINE.

Better than fine.

He was AWESOME.

He even let me take post-coital photos of the two of us.

unSCruz was a blast and I can’t wait to blog about all the things that happened.

But by and large, the BEST PART OF THE WEEKEND?

The Swede.

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Tires and Boyfriends

tireI do not have a boyfriend.

And the only reason this really matters is that there’s no one there to tell me to rotate my tires, or remind me that my tires need to be replaced.

These are the things I simply don’t think about.

It’s not that I’m an oblivious female – I can change a tire as well as change my own motor oil.

There are just some things I DON’T think about unless they’re staring me in the face.

Tires being one of them.

One of the reasons boyfriends EXIST is to tell their girlfriends these things.

I’ll never forget when my boyfriend Luke asked me when was the last time I packed the ball bearings on my trailer.

The answer wasn’t NEVER, it was “the last time I got the trailer serviced a few years ago.”

He proceeded to scold me and then he packed and greased my ball bearings.

No, that’s not a euphemism for sex.

It means he worked on my trailer for me.

I’ve decided that I need a boyfriend for all these GUY THINGS I don’t think about – packing ball bearings, putting air in my tires, replacing my tires BEFORE they go thread bare, etc.

So I’m interviewing.

Any applicants?

Must know cars (trucks preferred).

 

P.S.  I must give a shout out to my cousin Travis who took a look at my tires a few weeks ago and told me they needed to be replaced.  Badly.

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New man = new bedding

I have a thing about bedding.

Every time I get a new boyfriend, I get new bedding.

It’s an UNCONTROLLABLE urge.

It just seems wrong to sleep with a different man in sheets christened by his predecessor.

Am I right?

No jokes about how much bedding I should have, btw.

It all started 8 years ago.

I had beautiful red floral IKEA bedding which I slept in with my then-boyfriend Jay.

I have pictures I took of him smiling at me from among those red sheets and the images are burned into my brain.

I don’t even need to close my eyes and I can see his face and those sheets.

So it was necessary when we split to gift that bedding to my sister’s spare bedroom.

And thus a habit was born.

New man = new bedding.

Needless to say, I’ve been sleeping in the same bedding for years now and I finally allowed myself the luxury of buying new bedding NOT BECAUSE OF A NEW MAN but because I simply wanted new bedding.

Oh sure, I’m sure a new man will someday snuggle with me under that comforter, but until then this girl is happy sleeping solo in my new bedding!

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New bedding christened in the Motor Beast at Burning Man 2016. Can you tell I like bright colors?

Bad at Romance

michelle1First of all, I have to put up a disclaimer that says my friend Michelle would strongly disagree with what I’m about to write.

But she always sees me in a positive light.

Still, take everything I say with a grain of salt.

What I want to say is that I am bad at romance.

Yes folks, I suck at it.

I’m like a pimple faced 13 year old boy when it comes to romance.

I’ve actually said to boyfriends, “wanna knock out a piece?” and “ready to clean the pipes?”

I can’t help myself.

I just happen to be coarse when it comes to lovemaking.

I’m not sure how to ask for it so I take a humorous approach.

And that’s not all I’m bad at.

I can’t seem to wrap my head around the mushy stuff – the romantic walks, holding hands, and intimate dinners.

My idea of romance is cooking my boyfriend a steak then “knocking out a piece” on the living room floor.  If I’m feeling really decadent, we’ll make it to the bedroom.

Yes, romance for me almost always involves sex.

Perhaps that’s why when you remove it from the equation (like with the abstinent guys I have dated) I am destined to fail.

I’ve lost my ability to communicate affection.

AND it’s frustrating.

But truthfully, do men really want to be romanced?

Isn’t a steak and a blow job enough to keep them happy?

Why improve on perfection, no?

I ASPIRE to be a better lover but I’m bad at COMMUNICATING it.

Maybe, and this is a BIG MAYBE, maybe it’s just been too long since I’ve been in love.

Perhaps I’ll fall in love and the rest will take care of itself.

That would be grand.

Come for the boobs, stay for the brains

Behave.

It’s what I tell myself every single time I go on a date.

Don’t try so hard to be sexy.

Just be yourself.

But somehow I always find myself making playfully suggestive comments to my dates while smiling innocently at them.

Or giving him a lap dance at the beach (true story).

Or wearing something very low cut and suggestive.

I’ve come to the conclusion that being bad is just way more fun.

And it’s much easier than talking about meaningful things in my life.

Who wants to hear about my son dying from cancer? Or about my job struggles?

None of that is entertaining.

If I didn’t flirt on dates, what would I do with myself?

How do you figure out if there’s chemistry? What makes a man want to get to know a woman?

This is a mystery to me.

I figure when I partner up with a boyfriend, it’ll be because he just happened to stick around past all the great stuff (i.e. my cleavage and bedroom antics) to discover all the extraordinary stuff underneath that.

Come for the boobs, stay for the brains.

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Always a boy friend never a boyfriend

Did I say no more unavailable men?

Oops. My bad!

I no sooner declare my newfound resolve in dating and then I go and get involved with one.

That’s right.

It just goes to show, I have a thing for unavailable men.

In high school, I remember my friend Sherwin and I would flirt with each other but I always turned him down UNTIL he had a girlfriend.

As soon as he got a girlfriend, I was interested.

But he wasn’t.

We used to joke that we never liked each other at the same time and that’s why we never hooked up.

Between Sherwin, Albert, and Andrew, I always had a boy friend but never had a boyfriend.

Fast forward 25 years and nothing has changed.

I’m still jonesing for the unavailable man.

Like Nathan. . .

. . .who is married.

THE EPITOME OF UNAVAILBLE and I’ve gone and got myself involved.

It’s not a romance thing.

It’s not even a dating thing.

It’s mostly a get naked and fool around thing.

I’m not proud of it.

And I felt if I didn’t admit it on this blog that I was casting myself in an unnecessarily good light when in reality I’m not exactly being the most upstanding human being right now.

Not. Upstanding. At. All.

Yes, I’m single. No I’m not going to manhandle your boyfriend

Something weird is going on lately when I’m around relationship girls. They’re awkward, there’s lots of side-eye. I feel horrible even trying to make conversation with their men. I can’t be the only one who notices this. Am I?

Lately, relationship girls protect the territory of their boyfriends from me and my single girlfriends as if we are poised to attack. When did single women become birds of prey? Are we not just people like everyone else?

Here’s why those of you who are partnered up shouldn’t fear us single women. Personally, I’d love to be friends with relationship girls. I like to be friends with other women. I think you can measure the satisfaction in a woman’s life by the closeness of her female friendships. I want to be seen as a potential friend, rather than a boyfriend poacher.

Here are a few things to remember:

  1. He likes you. He maybe even loves you. He’s with you because he wants to be with you. And if you feel insecure about that, that is a problem with your relationship, not a problem with me.
  2. I like you. I always presume that when I meet a new woman we will be friends. It’s because I approach life from a place of positivity. Because I like you, I’m not going to do anything bad to you, like steal your boyfriend. I’m not going to flirt, grab, or otherwise manhandle your boyfriend. It’s un-sisterly and brings bad karma.
  3. Talking and flirting are NOT the same thing. Being single doesn’t mean I can’t carry on a conversation with a heterosexual male. And having a conversation with one doesn’t mean I’m interested. Please understand this.
  4. I’m a person too. Sometimes I feel like I’m seen as an incomplete person. As if being single and not having a man in my life means that I’m not whole yet. I have all my parts, thank you. Nothing is missing. I’m really just a person, not a wild animal that’s will pursue any man she sees. We’re not coyotes.
  5. I do have one ulterior motive. I want to meet your boyfriend’s single friends. How sneaky is that? I must be the devil.

So there you have it. 5 reasons to not worry about me talking to your boyfriend and actually enjoying my friendship and trusting in my commitment to being an ethical, trustworthy individual.