faythhaberFiled under: Uncategorized
All moves well on the new relationship front. I am approaching two months of a steady relationship and can safely say I am with the nicest guy I have ever been with. After returning home from a sleepover at this boys place I am disturbed by my selfishness. I am bothered by the fact that I seem to conduct a subconscience test in my sleep. After a night of a shared bed I wake up to a very tired boyfriend. I allow him no sleep. While I dream I continually horde the covers and continue to steal all of the pillows, I don’t need them to sleep, nor do I even use them, but even still, I seem to want them all.
This morning I rolled over in my freshly awake state to smile at my bed buddy, he smiles back, asks how I slept and as I yawn I tell him I slept well, and return the question, always the same his smile fades slightly and he shrugs, never blaming me for his lack of shut eye, but clearly tired.
What am I doing? How can he like me when I kick him in my sleep, steal all the bedding, and even, as I did last night scratch him with my toenails, which must ot only have been painful, but also kind of disgusting. I have also, and I admit this shamefully, drooled on him. Yet, he never complains, he didn’t even bring up the drooling, which I had no intention of apologizing for because of embarrassment, but it does make me think, and wonder how he can put up with me. Am I worth the lack of sleep, of course I think so, but it must be frustrating.
we get along great, and cuddle like we were made to lay together, why then, can we not sleep well? I wonder if it is me, but no other partner has ever complained of my selfishness in bed. Am I just testing him? It is very curious that we are so incompatible at sharing a bed, and I wonder how important of an issue this is.
he has never gotten mad at me, one day maybe I expect him to snap (possibly from a lack of sleep), as for now I guess I will just be left to wonder why I can’t share with someone I care about, and how as a couple who has great sex, we can be so uncomfortable in bed.
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I usually do not write about people while I am seeing them, and due to the past two people I have been seeing lasting rather long, little has been posted, for that I apologize, but please welcome the end of an era, and with great pleasure, I will now fill you in.
I met this boy this summer.
It was my second day in bartending class when I first noticed Will. He was paired at a station next to mine with a girl whom he was mercilessly hitting on. Will was cute, in a clean-cut sort of funny personality way, the girl was a sassy cute chick (not as cute as me, but still) and I could tell it would go nowhere. Judging by his style of flirting however I was interested. Will flirted with banter and wit, and when the other girl did not show up in class the next day I focused my skills at talking on him. For the remainder of the week we flirted and teased each other, Will was quick, and an even match, when it came time to complete out final speed test we made a bet, whoever finished making their drinks first was owed a drink by the other. Will beat me, but only by a garnish. (more…)
Neil still holds the record for the largest penis, if that’s a measure of anything.
It was a weekend trip to Ireland that became one of the best vacations I’ve ever had. Me and a friend went to Dublin before the weekend of st.patrick’s day. We were not the drink and do nothing else duo but our first night there involved a dance club, there for 5 mins a man approached us, sans irish accent i was uninterested, though my friend seemed to fancy him, this came to a head a few minutes later, when after a trip to the bathroom my friend informed me they had just made out. Having made a pact that it would be unsafe for us to go home with anyone who wasn’t roommates I was pleased when he introduced us to some of his, the night took an odd turn however when me and her new friend excused ourselves for a cigarette.
With his roommates nor my friend anywhere in sight, he quickly pinned me against the wall and began kissing me, pretty intoxicated I kissed back. Knowing I was swimming in incestuous waters I felt guilty, this didn’t stop this man however from playing us both all night. Having banished his roommates he clearly thought he was having a threesome, nothing was clearer to me than the fact that i was not going home with him. As the night progressed we finally lost this man, slightly upset to have lost her new boo my friend wanted to find him, and although heavily intoxicated she still caught on with lightening speed that I had made out with him when I expressed no interest to find him. After graciously forgiving me we exited, hoped in a cab and found some pizza, after all we had a tour of trinity college in the morning, and this was just the beginning.
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After a short, okay rather long, hiatus I rediscovered my blog, feelings were rekindled and I wanted once more to embrace it. School has started and here is the thing, I have been dating someone for three months, I probably won’t blog about him, at least not until we break up, but here is the other thing, it is a totally non-exclusive relationship. I don’t know who the hell I think I am getting into these clearly absurd relationships, but alas, I fell okay. He had been seeing someone else, and despite my knowledge that he likes me best (I think) I felt jealous. I decided to talk to him, by which I mean find a new boy to supplement him. Well it’s been a long hard journey, but as I write this, it is 4:30pm and I am still in bed, it is the morning after, new boy found and conquered, life is good.
I’m not cruel, I’m fair.
Perhaps in an effort to regain what I had had the previous summer, I was once again on the lookout for a possible suitor the following year at summer camp. I can’t remember what the exact circumstances were surrounding my meeting Jake, but that summer we were inseparable. A better summer romance than Evan had ever been I thoroughly enjoyed spending all of my free time with the chubby blond haired Jake.
Jake was a year younger, and although I usually aimed for older guys, in my perception that the older the boy, the cooler you were, he was great. It was this summer that we finally gained freedom, we were permitted to eat in the older dinning room, and were no longer required to sit as a large group at cafeteria tables with our entire bunk, no, now we had smaller tables, with free standing benches, we were moving up.
Though Jake still had to sit in the other dinning room, many lunch conversations turned to our happy relationship and how cute we were together. Everyone agreed, age was only a number, and at 14 Jake was surely mature for his age; I had made a good choice.
(more…)
(4.25.09)
It’s not everyday that a friends family crosses the Atlantic Ocean to pay a visit, so when this happened it was absolutely necessary that a large dinner of Indian food take place on Brick Lane, taking out the younger sibling of said friend, we gathered a group and headed out. We especially like this place we were going because of its BYOB policy towards wine and beer, therefore it was no problem when we had to wait a half an hour for our table. Standing outside in the bustling street we drank away the time, this resulted in us being a fairly drunk party by the time we were seated, this of course was no problem, until it was time to leave. Our original plan was to continue our night by going out to a pub or a club, unfortunately there were some of our group to drunk to carry on, separating from them, small group of us continued our journey up to the area of Camden.
It was the first stop on the tube that me and my friend, sitting separately from the rest of the group, were joined by two guys discussing their future plans for a Circle Line pub-crawl. The Circle line is an extremely long tube line that runs in a circle around London, their plan apparently consisted of getting a drink at every stop on this line. Unable to hold her silence my friend commented that this would be very expensive, I agreed, we began talking to these two guys, we were all going to Camden, what a coincidence. At the next stop they got off to transfer lines. Our group had been planning to transfer at a later stop, but realizing these guys were right, asked our other friends if we should get off too. Our friends nodded and me and my friend stepped off the train, once off we realized our other friends had no intention of getting off at this stop, they laughed as the doors closed behind us and gave us the middle finger as the train parted, leaving us on the platform. Annoyed we proceeded to transfer anyway; we would meet them there.
(more…)
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(5.7.09)
I am not even going to pretend that I remember what we claimed was the event we were celebrating when me and my friends made plans, wanting to keep it low we decided to just go up the street to our local pub, it was a few hours in however that we realized this simply would not be enough, we needed to dance. Brainstorming ideas of where we could go, we finally settled on a place not too far that we knew was open late.
“It’s not really a dance place,” one friends clarified, “but there is music.” Deciding this was enough we started off. Arriving, we entered a kind of grungy pub, I had been there before, people stood at the bar, others sat in booths, we got a drink and looked around. We found a place we thought suitable to create our dance floor, we began marking our territory, within minutes we were all surrounded by men, dancing with anyone, we laughed as one of our friends began dancing with a man about a foot shorter than her, very soon someone was dancing behind me, turning around I face a man with dark hair, having become accustomed to the dance floor makeout, we were immediately kissing. After a few minutes he pulled back, running his hand through his hair he looked at me, he looked distraught. (more…)
It was around middle school age when my mother finally decided she needed some privacy, by which I mean she thought it would be a good idea for me to go to summer camp. This was a perfect setting for me to encounter a boy. All stuck together in the middle of nowhere upstate New York I was sure I would find the love of my life. I met Evan at an event called human bingo. It was a mandatory camp wide event, probably aimed at getting everyone to be the best of friends by asking random questions and learning random facts about one another in an effort to win, and ultimately prove your popularity.
I had had my eye on Evan for a little while, or someone who looked like Evan anyway, but when I saw him across the Hockey rink where the event was held I realized he must be the one, turning to the counselor beside me whom I had befriended over the course of this summer I explained in detail my adolescent love for the blond boy eagerly completing his human bingo form across the rink. Pleased at the prospect of enabling star-crossed lovers – as we obviously were – the counselor smiled, what luck, Evan was in his bunk, he would do his best to unite us.
What followed was a meaningful process of introduction and acquainting. Evan had blond hair, always a mess, sprawling over his pale face; he also had what I vividly remember as atrocious teeth in his pre-braces stage as a young boy. All of these traits, which I now consider unattractive, were only made that much more charming by the prospect of finding true love during my summer in exile. (more…)
A friend I have here, one much more advanced at blogging than I suggested I make posts as they occur, no need to go in order, so if the progression from never having been kissed below to this story seems shocking, keep reading in the weeks to come and eventually it will make it back to the stories of the past, for all other purposes just assume, I grew up.
(5.14.09)
you don’t know it yet, but apparently Thursdays are the nights I like to keep open for random strangers. The last weeks of my study abroad in London, everyday is one of my friends last and we must celebrate being together one last time, at least until we get back to NY. In celebration of finally having finished my last paper, I declared a need to go out, yes, I had been out the night before, and the night before that, but on this night I had finished my final paper and was overwhelmed with excitement to be done.
Not wanting to venture too far we chose our favorite pub just up the street, upon arrival I decided it was most important to get a drink before anything else, being quite crowded around the bar, I separated from my friends to find an opening in the crowd to get a drink. Standing at the bar, waiting patiently to be served, a man to my right struck up a conversation, “waiting for a drink?” he asked, I thought this was quite obvious, but smiled politely, “yes,” I responded, “I have been waiting for awhile, this bartender must hate me.” At this moment the bartender approached me, “he’ll probably serve her first” said this man to his friend beside him, “after all, she is much more attractive than us.” I smiled at the compliment, and looked over to see this man’s friend. Contrary to the guy speaking to me who was fairly middle aged and short and stubby, his friend was tall and young looking, quite cute. Regardless of what they had anticipated the bartender chose to serve them before me. “Well, that’s not right,” said stubby, “I think we owe her a drink.” Not one to argue, I let them purchase me my first round.
“So, where are you from?” Stubby asked, noticing my accent. “New York” I responded. “Very cool” they chimed. “we didn’t think you sounded British,” they told me. Thinking about it I didn’t think they sounded British either, almost Irish, having learned however how much it upsets the English to be told they sounded Irish, I tried a safe guess, saying Northern England. They scoffed, apparently the only thing more offensive then thinking a Brit is Irish, is thinking an Irishman British. They laughed at my ignorance, and to change the topic I asked what they were doing at this particular bar. Beginning their life stories, they introduced themselves, these two were James and Damien (stubby). They were Irish, now living in London, they were all out tonight together, apparently there were more of them.
Within a few moments the rest of the group joined them, within minutes a guy with a dark hair and a trimmed beard was talking to me, upset that James, the cutest one seems uninterested by me I allowed this man to monopolize my attention. We talked about NY, he had been there before, and lots of other things, he continued to buy me drinks, within the next hour me and this man, who may or may not have been named Niles, were making out against the bar, passing the first part of my test by being a good kisser, I decided we should move away from the bar, as I had been reprimanded before for taking up room at the bar by kissing.
“Let’s move over there” I suggested pointing to a more secluded area of the bar where it appeared to be empty. Separating from the pack he followed me, nearing the place I suggested I realized it was not empty at all, in fact an entire couch was being occupied by almost the entirety of my Ethics class, unable to explain this to the man who had just followed me there, I sat down across from my peers and next to Niles who saw no reason to suspend the kissing. it was only a matter of minutes before my ethics class felt awkward and all stood to leave, then we had the space to ourselves, standing up I led us towards the couch they had just vacated, now, sitting closer than before his hands began to wonder. I will make out in a bar, even a crowded one, however I draw the line at having sex in one, even if you are pretty much alone. I moved his hand, “if you want to do that, we’ll have to go somewhere else,” I told him, he assured me we could get a cab from there to his place no problem. (more…)
In middle school I considered myself ready. A barbeque in my backyard brought my friends and me to talking about boys, as a conversation between multiple thirteen year olds will inevitably do. We threw around our perceptions of whom we considered cute, ruled out a few due to their already established “long-term” relationships, then I mentioned a named that sparked excitement.
At the mention of BOY, an overweight, baby-faced boy in our grade, conversation took off.
“Oh, I know him,” exclaimed one of my friends, always eager to help in the most awkward of ways. “He is in my youth group,” she continued, “I could talk to him for you,” she added helpfully.
I shrugged, shy suddenly.
“He’s cute,” they all harmonized, assuring me I had not been wrong to mention him.
As my first real stab at coupling I had no idea about what was appropriate as far as looks or attraction. I was also I very unfortunate looking thirteen year old and didn’t want to experience rejection quite so early in my dating career by attempting to date too far out of my league.
What unfolded over the next few days was an amazing feat of strategy and planning. Phase one had gone without a hitch, my friend had established a line of communication, at this point we were mature, and just so beyond being embarrassed by talking to boys, assuming of course we weren’t doing it on our own behalf.
“He likes you,” she assured me, “he wants to hang out.”
Overly excited about the prospect of being asked out on the equivalent of a romantic candlelit dinner, it was after this first success that phase two began: speaking. For the first time.
So far our truly complicated relationship had been solely physical, it was time to show our true selves, expose our personalities, and deepen our understanding of one another. It was after a few short talks that we began casually dating; this resulted in me being the first Jew to attend the local Presbyterian youth group. We sat next to each other; he got me juice and cookies. We hadn’t yet discussed our exclusivity, but I was content with the direction in which our relationship was going; that is of course until he took things too far.
It was two days into our formal relationship (approximately four months in middle school time) that BOY made the tragic mistake that would lead to his own downfall. Upon entering fourth period Earth Science I sat down in my regular seat, two rows from the front, on the right. I smiled at BOY as he entered the room – I was such a good girlfriend – he smiled back, more widely than necessary. I was already growing weary of his constant need for reassurance. Walking up the aisle he sat next to me. Big mistake. Having displaced my friend to sit beside me, he seemed completely unaware of the great error he had just made. For the sake of our relationship I did not confront him, but immediately I felt smothered. Turning to me he smiled again.
“I have been thinking about changing my classes,” he chirped brightly.
“Oh?” I replied becoming suddenly very interested with the margins of my notebook, why must he constantly fill the silence?
“Yeah,” he insisted on continuing, “so we can have more classes together.”
I wanted to vomit. Why was he doing this to me? I nodded, at the end of the day, when I was far away from BOY and all his eagerness I tried to understand, I reasoned that he simply wanted to spend time together. What was so wrong with that? Obviously I had overreacted, I would just have to adjust, make compromises, try and understand his freakish obsession with being together that has most obnoxiously started at the exact same moment we decided to date.
It was around this time – literally within the next hour – that the phone calls began. I have never been very fond of speaking on the phone, but when I picked up and heard BOY’s excited voice on the other side, all negative feelings came rushing back. We spoke for an hour, or rather; he spoke, this continued for a few days, each conversation ending with some lame excuse on my part to get off the phone. It was basically like we were married.
When it was finally the end of the week, the time came for weekend plans. Seeing how our relationship was going so well, my friends were quite pleased. They began to think it was time to move further, suddenly I was faced with the dilemma of never knowing when I might be kissed, this deeply unsettled me. How could I do anything without fear again? I was afraid to do anything because a kiss might unexpectedly occur. BOY asked what we were doing this weekend, frustrated at his assumption that I didn’t already have plans. I said the first thing that came to mind.
“How about we bake a cake?” I suggested. I am not sure if I said this because I didn’t want to be in public with him – and what if the kiss were to ambush me in public? – or because it was the most innocent activity I could think of.
The next day BOY’s father dropped him off at my house; I must mention that his dad was the chief of police, from which I can only deduce that police officers have strange children. We proceeded to actually bake a cake, today I may use the term, “bake a cake” to describe other activities in innuendo, in this case however we literally baked a cake, when finished we cleaned up and sat at least three feet away from each other on the couch.
When it was finally time for him to go I was relieved, no kiss. I was also decided, this relationship was tying me down, it had gone on long enough – one full week – I needed my freedom. I would have to break it off. Monday came, ad as BOY once again sat next to me in Earth Science, as he so stubbornly continued to do, I turned to him, very solemn, after all this was no light matter, and told him we needed to talk, most cruelly I asked him to meet me after school, about 3 hours from then – four days in middle school time – he sulked an expression that had apparently not left his face once as he still wore it when we met again.
“I think we should break up,” I said sternly. He wanted to know why, honestly, I didn’t know, but I felt I didn’t need to justify myself. “I just do,” I retorted. He looked upset but nodded and I turned to leave. Feeling free I was thrilled, proud I had made it through such a serious relationship, and everyone said breaking up was so sad, I had never felt better.
Going home I enjoyed the silence as no phone rang. My friends were upset, but eventually focused on some new matchmaking scheme. I was certain BOY and I would now be friends, after all we had been together for significant time. It was the following week however that I discovered that BOY had already moved on. By setting him free I had opened new doors, mainly for a beautiful relationship between him and my stepsister whom he had met at the inevitable meeting of my parents, which had occurred during the second, more serious stage of our relationship, around day three. Their relationship was infinitely table than ours had ever been, despite the shattering long distance of thirty minutes.
They continued their coupled bliss for approximately three months; I still maintain that their distance helped them, as she could not be suffocated as I had been. Regardless, this was yet another time when I realized that being alone was the correct route, getting out a fast as I could, yearning without realizing it to be alone once again. Eventually their time together ended, and despite what I thought, BOY and me could not be friends; we had been through too much. As if his clinging nature had not been enough, he had gone from me to my stepsister, and that was just unforgivable.
