Left behind

Wednesday, October 31, 2007
If you weren't aware, the B.F. and I live together and work together. Yes, that's right, we do both and haven't managed to murder one another. On Monday, we were ready to head out the door at about the same time. This, I might add, is very odd. We are never ready at the same time. He is always 15 minutes, if not more, ahead of me at any given time. If I say, "I'll be there in five," what I really mean is I will be done flat ironing my hair in five minutes. That doesn't count on throwing on jewelry or my shoes. So by the time I pick those out, I'm out headed to my destination, driving at 80 mph because I'm always racing to be somewhere that I should've been 15 minutes earlier.

So, at this rare moment, we are beside ourselves because I'm ready. The B.F. says, "Do you want to ride into the office together?" Hmmmmm, why not, right?


The B.F. comes around my office at about 4:30 and I'm on a conference call, so he rudely tries to talk to me as I'm listening to this vendor chat about some search capability. I mouthe, "I'll be ready at 5:30 p.m." He nods and walks out.

At this point, it's about 5:15 p.m., so I send a few final e-mails and make my way over to his office to check if he's ready. Yep, you guessed it, the bastard split on me. Laptop. Gone. Lights. Off.

I'm laughing thinking he must be in the office or outside playing cornhole. I call him from my work phone because I left my cell at home.

The B.F. -- "Hey, when are you going to be home?"
Me: "Ummmm, did you forget something?"
The B.F.: Laughter. "Oh my god, I fucking left you."
We are both laughing.
Me: "Seriously, B.F., how did you leave without me. You came by my office and I said I'd be ready at 5:30."
The B.F. "I don't know."
Laughing still.

To make up for his absentmindedness, he made dinner, which he was planning on doing anyway but it looked that much better for him. I guess it's a good thing we don't have or a dog or my cat anymore. He'd probably leave it outside and forget about it.

After dinner, I checked my voicemail and he called me twice and left a voicemail right before I called him asking me when I'd be home. (He sounded very sincere. Like he had no idea that we drove in together.)

Boys. Get a memory.

girls' night out

Monday, October 29, 2007
As girls, we need more of these. Even if we aren't in a relationship or shacking up, it's something that girls need to do at least once a month. I'm always with my B.F. I see him at work, after work, when I go to bed and when I wake up. It's easy to do the same things every weekend, so we, as couples, need to shake things up, go out with the girls, turn off the phone and if you cheat, make sure not to take pictures and use protection.

We were celebrating two friend's 25th birthdays (Katie and Katie), complete with crowns, flowers and balloons and drinks at local area bars. (That was Erin's idea-- not mine, but they made me do it on mine so we returned the favor to them.)

Here are my top 6 reasons to not ruin your friendships with your girls when you get in a relationship:
1)You never know when you will need good drinking buddies.
2)Even though you still don't live with them, you can still secretly steal clothes, shoes and even Halloween costumes that they'll eventually forget about.
3)Driving drunk is irresponsible -- hello Britney, Paris and Lindsey! If they had friends or half a brain, they wouldn't do those things either.
4) They answer the most important question, "Are these jeans too tight?"
5) They answer other important questions like, "Do I look like a hooker?, Is there something in my teeth? and Is that guy fuckable?" (Jeff feel free to counter my points now.)
6) Who will listen to you talk about the latest Grey's Anatomy drama?

Now you try. It doesn't have to be 5 reasons, it can one, two or 23.

managing expectations

Tuesday, October 23, 2007
I recently was invited into a guy's mind (what a scary place that is). He explained to me how men think and what their actions mean, and I'll be the first to admit that I think guys are just as messed up as girls.

I've never considered myself to be much of a clingy girlfriend. (Other people could think differently.) But I don't stalk, pry into what you are doing or who you are with in a psycho-girlfriend-kind-of-way.....unless you give me reason to. But this week in particular, I felt like we weren't really paying that much attention to each other. He did his things in and out work and so did I. I just felt disconnected. So I started poking around for answers, "did I do something to offend you? Are you OK?" (Really knowing that he was the fucked up one and I was just trying to get answers out of him.)

Here's what he tells me in a Dr. Phil sort-of-way:
"Allison, sometimes I want to hang out with you a lot, then some time I don't. Don't take it personally, but guys go through spurts where they want a lot of something or want a little of something."
Me -- I'm nodding and laughing.
"Don't be offended by it, it's really nothing. I don't love you any less because I don't hang out every second, it is what it is."

There are other parts of that conversation that I forgot, but I think you get the gist of it.

There you have it. The gospel according to one male's mind.

Libra Tampons - The Comparison

Friday, October 19, 2007

Yes, some boys do purchase tampons.

tampons and tools

There comes a time in every guy's adult life when he needs to grab his manhood by the balls and walk into a Target and purchase his girlfriend/baby mama/wife/daughter a box of tampons. (You can handle it.) I've never quite understood the fear in being around tampons, buying them or even saying the word, without whispering it. What happens if there is no period? Then, only then, is where the real fear starts.

Let's compare a guy act that girls often do. Girls buy condoms all the time. It's a condom for god's sake. It's benefiting both parties involved in the act. Tampons are another useful tool for both parties involved. If couples use condoms correctly, then they can both breathe a sigh of relief when the girl asks her to guy to buy tampons at her local drugstore.

Now, boys, when you live with a girl you will occasionally come across one of these useful tools. Don't be afraid. It's just cotton and a part of life -- didn't you take 7th grade health class?

Girls encounter all types of disgusting boy habits. Shaving? Come on. Thank god we have two bathrooms because the last thing I want to see is little shavings sprinkled all over my sink. Don't even make me refer to the oldest of boy habits -- the toliet seat. If I can put down your toliet seat and buy condoms, you can walk into a drugstore and purchase a simple box of tampons.

new things every day

Sunday, October 14, 2007
The B.F. just got a new iPod for his big 28th birthday. He makes it a point to constantly rub it into my face that his iPod classic is better than my 30GB video/picture slim version iPod. He's new in general to technology and gets mad when I know more than him. During college, I worked at Best Buy for about two years and learned so much about computers, phones (which I sold), TVs and all other electrical equipment. Guys like him would come in all the time and try to talk their technical jargon, then I would have to politely insult their intelligence and sell them more gadgets than they needed...just because I could.

From this iPod purchase, I've learned of his eclectic music tastes. He has been downloading album artwork for all 2,000 of his songs and has been playing me a preview of all of them (I haven't asked for a single one). He tells me that one of his favorite songs of all times is "Lady in Red." The first thing that comes to mind is American Psycho with hot Christian Bale.

This morning as I was getting ready to run off to Brio, he says out loud "Ooohhh Bridget Jones' Diary."
Me -- "Oooooh Bridget Jones' Diary???"
B.F. -- "Allison, I know it's hard to believe but there were other girls that came before you, and they made me watch sappy movies like this one."

Guess you learn something new every day about your significant other.

Breaking and entering

Thursday, October 11, 2007
I officially freaked myself out last night. I have always viewed myself as a tough girl. I can handle any situation with the slightest of ease....or so I think. Well, last night was a whole different story.

I passed out at about 11:30 p.m. and awoke to the B.F.'s text messages of purses. He had the new account girl modeling purses -- she looked cute but I could hardly make out the bag. After I hung up on him twice because I was losing interest and falling asleep, I told him which one I liked better and told him not to buy it. I turn over to get comfortable and a light in the living room is shining eerily bright into my room. I think my heart stopped. I didn't leave that light on. I never leave lights on when I sleep. I know I leave them all on when I'm up but not when I'm sleeping. I made sure to turn all the lights off. I jump up and tip toe to see if I can see someone's shadow in the living room. I have convinced myself that there is an intruder in my apartment. I put on shoes, pants and shirt and the grasp my keys in between my fingers like I was taught at a self defense class. Meanwhile, the B.F. is calling me and I just ignore his calls because I think I'm going to scream I'm so nervous. I flip on every light, check the doors and locks for forced entry and can find no examples that someone else has been there.

I grab a kitchen knife. (Note to readers: I think I have watched one too many Law & Order: SVU episodes.) I hop in my bed, watch Pageant Place on MTV to calm myself down but I only get more furious because I don't give a shit about Tara Conner and her rehab -- congratulations, honey! You joined the ranks of all the rest.

Needless to say, I fell asleep and woke up alive this morning to come into the office for another day of work. I'm kind of glad that B.F. is returning tonight. I just don't know how the hell that lamp got turned on.

sleeping alone is really better for you

Wednesday, October 10, 2007
I have friends who love, absolutely love, sleeping next to their boyfriend/fuck buddy/flavor of the month. I also have a few honest friends who admit that sleeping next to someone every night doesn't guarantee you a great night of sleep.

Since I can remember, I've always had a full bed, which has allowed me to stretch, wrap the blankets all around me and throw a pillow or two in the middle of the night. So when I have a permanent sleeping partner, he makes sure to remind me of my thrashing ways in the morning.

"Allison, you punched me last night." (I think he made that one up.)
"Allison, you wrap the blankets around you like a cocoon." (Duh.)
"Allison, you have restless leg syndrome and kick me throughout the night." (Whatever.)

Our sleeping arrangements often come up in conversation. Here's how it typically goes:
Any random person -- "So you live together?"
Me--- "Yes we do."
Person -- "Is it a one-bedroom, two-bedroom?"
Me--"We have two bedrooms. There's no way my shopping habit can share a closet with him."
Person -- "Who has what room?"
Me -- "I get the master bedroom because, like I said, I need to have the closet of Elle magazine, and he has the other room."
Person -- "But, you like, sleep together every night, right?"

And, at this point, I get annoyed and slightly defensive. The tone is always the same when any random person reaches the Q&A portion of my sleeping arrangement. Why does it matter to you where I sleep? This is where I bring in the experts. I am a part of the 23% percent of couples who sleep apart, at least some portion of the week. Here, take the quiz.

Stolen from the Today Show, "There are a lot more couples sleeping separately than you might guess, says Mark Mahowald, director of the Minnesota Regional Sleep Disorders Center in Minneapolis. An estimated 23 percent of American couples sleep apart, according to a survey by the National Sleep Foundation." For all of the people who responded to the survey, 47% of men sleep best when they sleep next to their partner, and only 35% of women sleep best next to their partner. Why you ask? Snoring (38%)!

Women mostly get screwed because men are such loud snorers. My friend Katie said the first time she slept at her B.F.'s house...she thought he died! Could you imagine? She was watching his chest to make sure he was still alive because he stopped breathing at some points in the night. And, when he's done doing the scary-I-almost-died-sleeping thing, he moves into this loud, I-can't-sleep-through snore for the rest of the night. See what we must put up with!

So, in my crazy conclusion, it's not about who you sleep with, it's about the quality of sleep you get when you are sleeping with that person.

Vacation -- for both of us

Monday, October 8, 2007
A great thing about my job and the B.F's is that we get to travel sporadically throughout the year. This week, the B.F. is off in L.A. for job training with a client. I'm incredibly jealous because L.A. is a place I should go. I would appreciate the shopping, culture, celebrities, beach and scene, but he won't. He hates, absolutely hates, W.6th in Cleveland, but I guarantee he'd go out to LAX or Les Deux just to spite me. That... makes me jealous. And, oh how I could continue to rack up my credit cards on S. Robertson Blvd. if only I were there.

However, now that I'm alone until Friday, I'm able to do those secret behavior things that I hide when he's around. I can watch all my guilty pleasure shows without hearing some smart ass response from him like, "Allison, you are way out of MTV's demographic to be watching that."

Plus, I can watch all my shows live instead of replaying when he's not around. Although I do make him watch Grey's Anatomy because he doesn't complain too much when that's on. If I have to watch something on the discovery channel about fire ants, you better believe I'm making you watch doctor drama in the E.R.

I can even paint the living room/dining room whatever color I want because he's not around. I'm heavily considering painting just 2 walls in our apartment without him. He thinks I'll ruin the furniture or get it "all over the ceiling" like I did in my old place. OK-- that was an accident and I'll be much more careful this time around. I'm just wondering if I'm asking for a big fucking fight if I whip out my paint brush and pull a DaVinci on the living space. It's just a standard warm, beige color. Good or bad idea? You be the judge.

The B.F.'s Birthday

Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Today the B.F. turns 28. I am excited for him. He is not that excited. I don't think he's really the birthday-celebrating-look-at-me-all-week-type. Sorry about his luck, but I am exactly that girl and extend a day into a week long celebration. Last year, my friends Amber and Erin threw me a surprise birthday party on Friday, my actual real birthday, the night before I went out with people from work for a party and then on Saturday I think we did something that surrounded my day of birth -- I can't remember what it is right this moment.

In preparation of his birthday, I would make mental notes of things I could give him for the big 2-8. I was thinking a Coach wallet, a great pair of designer jeans, a watch or an iPod. But, then he says, "Please don't spend a lot of money of me." OK, well that throws a wrench in my fabulous ideas. That's fine, I'll switch to plan B. Plan B is always clothes -- you can't go wrong with clothes. Besides, he is kind of metro with his and hair and all, so I go to a very metro store -- Express.

Let me vent about Express for a minute. I feel like they try and have a boutique atmosphere with crazy prices for unoriginal clothes. I can go to H&M or Forever 21 and find similar clothes at a much better price. At other boutiques, you actually can find clothes that not many people will have. I have this great Project E shirt from Lush Boutique that I haven't seen on anyone else. Granted, I know I'm not the only person who has it, but the fact that I don't see it on tweens makes me smile. And, considering most of Express clothing is so trendy, I'd rather spend $19.50 on a sparkly tank top rather than $39.50 and not wear it next year because the disco ball look is out. (Was it ever actually in though?)

Back to the B.F. --- I swing into Express at Crocker Park and pick up two button down shirts that double for both work and play. One is a light purple and the other is white with a brown ace design on it. I check out the ties but I got a great deal on the shirts, so I decide not to throw down $49.50 on a stupid tie. I run over to Filene's Basement by me and pick up a gold tie. OK, I'll admit, it looked cool at the time but I'm not too keen on it right now.

The boy doesn't really like any of it! None of it! Now, if I were a girl who had feelings, I would be offended and probably not talk to him for several days or even a week. But, lucky for him, I'm not that girl. I know he's picky and that he will probably not like anything I get him, but hey, at least I continue to try.

After I handed him all of this gifts (I don't wrap), I whipped out the receipts so he didn't have to come up with a nice way of saying, "Uh, ah, eh, thanks for trying to buy me something."