Ok....
So, let's say that you're a nice, smart, decent-looking, together and (slightly) neurotic boy - and all you've ever wanted was to fall in love...
So you look, and you look, and you look, and because of some sort of over-achieving ocd streak you can't go through any simple motion of life (working, driving, taking a crap) without musing on love, and all of the places you've looked for it, and where you're going to find it...
Let's say... that you've sabotaged nearly every relationship of your life because you've tried to force it into some gay Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan instant love fantasy that wraps up in two hours with the CLEAR promise of a joint checking account and property ventures...
And for the record, the last time you've had sex or even had a sexual thought beyond a mental note that if you don't masturbate soon you'll be cranky was 14 months ago.
UNTIL (DUN DUN DUN!!!)!!!
You meet someone new... and not only do all of your old neurotic tendencies come back, but because of 14 months of build-up they're spiraling more out of control than ever! You alternate between wedding and suicide pact fantasies. You plan what you'll say to him on your 1st anniversiary. You experience the gutteral reaction when you're imagination and a little too much stress at work allow you to dream about the first time he cheats on you. This is all by week one.
(Note: the sex is pretty rad)
If you must know... I'm on week three... and I think I'm getting dumped... tonight.
So, last Monday, I decide that the new guy is ready to meet the little sis. Amanda's always been a good introduction to the family - she helps people to prep for my mother's neurosis, without being as conservative and/or straight-up bizarre. She comes with friends, Sangria is ordered - everything's peachy...
The back-up: The new guy (let's call him Josh... because... um... that's his name...) has NOWHERE to go for Thanksgiving. He's just moved to Texas with two less-than-domestic-God roommates, and has a relationship with his family that's straight out of a JT Leroy novel. So, I've been weighing the possibility of inviting him and his roommates to my family's Thanksgiving jew-food Buffy-fest (to be explained at a later date...). I have NOT consulted my mother on this. I am NOT sure if I even want to ask him, as I've already asked him to be my date for my best friend's wedding (Nov 20th), AND (he doesn't know this yet) I REALLY want him to be my date at the office X-mas party (DEC 3). Essentially, I don't want to overwhelm the kid with my willingness to over-expose. I saw what happened to Jen and Ben - that doesn't need to be me.
Back to the story... Two glasses of sangria in, everything's going alright, and I've got a nice blush worked up between the alcohol and my sister and Josh's rampant desire to roast me over dinner. Now, I'm a pretty mellow dude, and I'm used to being made fun of, but with a little alcohol and from someone I want to impress, it's awkward... I won't lie... But then, something interesting happens (for this next dialogue, make sure to reference "back-up" above)
George: "C'mon Amanda, you can't go giving away all of my secrets at once now..."
Amanda: "But George, if he's COMING TO THANKSGIVING, he might as well figure out some of this now!"
Josh: "Thanksgiving?"
Hilarity and awkward pauses in the conversation insue. Josh immediately brings up the wedding and begins backing out - I start to watch my premature fantasies crumble before my eyes (inner monologue: "I will die alone... ugly, and alone..."). Somehow, we all make it through the night - I go to drop Josh of at his house, and after some brief make-outage (par for the course) I am most certainly NOT invited up. He has to work. (Note: this is a SERIOUS break from the norm) I go home, trying to convince myself that everything's ok.
Two days later: 3 unanswered e-mails, no phone calls, and one mass e-mail from him about something work-related (more on this later, when I get up the balls to ACTUALLY be forthcoming on my goddamn diary...)
I'm wigging.
TOTALLY WIGGING.
Some of the questions I'm asking include:
1. What if he doesn't like me?
2. What if he doesn't like me, but finds me really physically hideous and when he kisses me he can't help but grimace and close his eyes in hopes that he can convince himself that I'm Heath Ledger (mmmm... Heath Ledger...)
3. What if he sorta liked me, but is freaked out by all of the special occaisions I've got him signed up for and my CLEAR innability to slow down my emotional processes?
4. What if he likes me, but the people at his (CULT) job don't, and have suggested to him that I may be bad for productivity and need to be "eliminated."
5. What if I'm making all of this up?
6. If number 5 applies, can I keep doing this without becoming exhaused and suicidal?
7. If number 5 applies, and the answer to number 6 is, "for a little while," at what point will I be able to process this situation like a normal (read: sane and contained) person.
8. What's with that damn "Goodies" song on EVERY LA radio station? Do people ACTUALLY like this? Does anyone really think it's sexy? I mean, "Keep looking for the goodies, keep on looking cause they stay in the jar," has got to be the least sexy thing said since JLO rasped, "gobble-gobble" while spreading her legs to a soon to be drenched in pussy-juices Ben Affleck...
Ok - I gotta go, but it feels good to write in this thing again... I'll try to keep it up...
XOXOX
G
