It’s Tuesday, y’all. Here’s episode 12.
Boy meets boy. Boy falls in love. And then boy records a song about it.
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Here’s Episode 8 of What Some Would Call Lies.
Listen!
Some of life’s toughest dilemmas can be solved by a person who manipulates an inanimate object in real time to create the illusion of life.
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And don’t forget to write an iTunes review before January 30th for your chace to win the kickass t-shirt.
I’m back bitches!
I’ve started podcasting again. This time I’m going solo. I started an audio version of What Some Would Call Lies.
Every Tuesday you can catch the latest story. The first episode is live. You can listen to all the podcasts here.
You can also subscribe in iTunes by clicking here.
Here is the first episode:
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I’m an Internet oversharer. I know that. (I’ve had 1 bowel movement today.)
Sometimes I find myself thinking of how I’m going to blog or tweet about an enjoyable situation instead of actually enjoying said situation. It’s a bit pathetic. But that’s what makes me who I am, I guess.
Because of a few situations that have happened recently, I’ve been thinking about dating and the scary Facebook relationship status problem.
When I went through a breakup in April 2010 I wrote this post about how breaking up is even harder to do in the days of Facebook.
Really, Facebook hurts a playa’s game in 2 ways (take it from me).
The first problem is that freaking BROADCAST TO THE WORLD THAT YOU ARE NO LONGER SINGLE thing. You immediately get “likes” and people congratulating you. But this Broadcast from one half of a relationship puts an immediate spotlight on the other.
My last boyfriend changed his relationship status a bit sooner that I wanted to.
Gulp.
So now there’s this awkward moment – a moment where my inaction speaks louder than any action would. A moment where all eyes are on me and you have to quickly run through the scenarios. I could change. I could not change. I could lose all of this, or get sucked deeper into all of this because of some stupid tic box.
I know that this “problem” could have be solved by having my relationship status turned to “private,” which it is now (I’ll explain why in a minute). But at the time I was living my why-do-it-if-it-can’t-be-exploited-on-my-social-networks philosophy.
The second problem that arises has to do with your former lovers. Of course when you are dating someone you become their Facebook friend, right? Of course. Of course.
But what happens when you split? To un-friend or not to un-friend?
I mean really, I don’t want to see photos of his new haircut or to hear the stories of how he corrected the grammar of a woman working at Wal-Mart and somehow now feels superior. Those stories and pictures didn’t interest me when we were sleeping together, why would they now? So I might as well get rid of them, right?
Wait, wait. Wait just a minute. Wait. This is another instance where both your actions and in-actions speak. If you quickly de-friend, you’re the hurt ex that wants nothing further to do with him. If you let him sit in your friend list, you’re the mature ex that is moving on but isn’t bitter.
Am I over-thinking this?
For the record, I never de-friend. Ex-boyfriends, former political buddies from Orange County that only use Facebook to beg me to give money, drag queens I met at a bar once…they’re all on my friend list and they will continue to be (unless I’m removed on their end). I prefer just to hide their updates from my feed and then they are out of sight.
In a slightly related note, I changed my relationship status yesterday to this:
You get the joke, right? Mike went from being “single” to “in a relationship” and then my 1st comment is “with Big Brother Season 13.”
Well I started getting messages from people who want to know “who the lucky guy is” or “I didn’t know you were dating someone.” And I’m not sure if all the people who “like” this status actually read the first comment that I wrote explaining it.
Ugh.
So now I put my relationship status on lock-down because in September when this relationship ends (he’s totally going to just drop off the face of the earth….watch) I will have to change this status and I don’t need it broadcast everywhere. And I certainly don’t need condolences.
This post is part of the Second Annual D-Blog Week. To take part, check out the details on Karen’s blog! And thanks, as always, to Karen for organizing such a great advocacy effort.
Today’s Prompt: Whether you or your loved one are newly diagnosed or have been dealing with diabetes for a while, you probably realize that things can (and will) go wrong. But sometimes the things that go wrong aren’t stressful – instead sometimes they are downright funny! Go ahead and share your Diabetes Blooper – your “I can’t believe I did that” moment – your big “D-oh” – and let’s all have a good laugh together!!
Last week I went on a blind date. He wasn’t blind…although have you seen Love, Valor, Compassion? I’d totally date a blind guy. Not to be insensitive to blind people, but I worry a lot about wearing the same outfit twice while dating. Additionally, I believe that some of my best assets are not things that people can see, but rather things that they can hear. I’ve got a stellar vocabulary and usually use words like “capricious” and “pellucid” to make people listening feel inferior. I do however see a few drawbacks…I’d always have to drive, he wouldn’t notice if I got my haircut. Tangent. Sorry.
Back to the blind date with the guy that can see.
A friend set us up…and after a very brief Facebook conversation, we decided to meet up at one of my favorite local restaurants for dinner. This was Mother’s Day.
So I spent the morning and afternoon with my family. I injected insulin for what I thought to be a normal Lawson Family Lunch: tons of food, and a little dessert. Well my parents have been carb-counting…they’re doing what I’d call Atkins-Lite. They still have carbohydrates from time to time, but they’ve cut out a lot of the starchy foods that were in their normal diets. So for lunch we ate grilled vegetables and steak. Dessert was fresh fruit (sprinkled with Splenda).
I drove home and showered to get ready for the blind date with the guy that isn’t blind. During the shower I felt like my glucose level had dropped a bit. So I tested and I was at 76mg/dl. Blerg.
I was on my way out the door. Did I really have to stop to get something sweet? Ducking Fiabetes…right?!
I decided instead to just rush to the restaurant. I live about five minutes away. When I got there I realized that I had given the blind date that isn’t really blind incorrect cross streets for the restaurant. So I tried texting him…but my hands were shaking so much because of the low blood sugar.
I thought to myself, “I need to correct this low or else he’s going to think that I’m some sort of nervous chihuahua or something.”
I sat down and put two packets of sugar in my mouth. And I tested again. 53mg/dl! Damn. Damn. Damn.
At this point I started to panic a little. Not only is my glucose level really low, but I’m about to start a blind date with a guy that can see.
When I’m really low I get a little loopy…like a drunk person. I say strange things and I act a little weird. But in my head everything makes sense. When the un-blind guy showed up we had what I only hoped was good conversation. I don’t usually tell people, “I have type 1 diabetes” within the first ten minutes of meeting them, but in this instance I kinda felt like I had to explain just in case I had to reach out and suck down another packet of sugar, or if I face planted into my hummus.
I guess the low didn’t drastically effect my mojo. He wants to see me again. When we go out next Tuesday I’m going to do my best to have a better number walking into it.
Despite the graphic topic of this post, I’m going to attempt to write it in the most PG-13 way possible.
I was 18 when I had my first serious relationship with a man…well, boy. We were both boys. Additionally, we were both young and incredibly naïve.
I’m friends with First Boyfriend (who will now be called 1stbf) on Facebook. And last week 1stbf wrote on his Facebook wall that he thought that he felt a cold coming on. And I suddenly had a flashback of the two of us on a boat in a harbor in Long Beach making out (that’s a long story). Things were headed in one direction…get me? And he suddenly stopped me. “I can’t finish,” he told me (maybe using another word for “finish” but remember I’m trying to be PG-13). “I think I’m about to get a cold…and if I finish, it will weaken my immune system.”
That’s when I crossed my arms and gave him my best Daria look (see image to the left). “Are you being serious right now?”
He told me that when he feels illness coming on he never finishes. Even when he’s alone.
WTF, right?
I was 18…so I had this strange definition of “sex” that required both parties to finish. If only one person finished, it wasn’t “sex” but rather some kinky thing that only happened at swingers parties.
This “I don’t finish when I feel illness coming on” thing made for a particularly difficult flu season. And I promptly broke up with him before the fall cold season started.
Last week when I read his “starting to feel sick” Facebook status, I messaged him. Here’s what I had to say:
What’s up 1stbf?! Your status reminded me of this random memory: when we were dating (over 10 years ago!!!!!) you refused to finish if you felt like you were getting sick. Hahahahhaha….do you remember that? You said it would bring the sickness on quicker. Do you still feel that way?
He responded shortly after:
HAHAHA WHAT??? That’s hilarious! I don’t even remember that nor do I remember ever feeling that way! Gosh, we were so young. I can’t believe it’s been about 12 years now!!! Speaking of random memories, do you remember when we used to make out on that boat in Long Beach?
I’m glad that he acknowledged his naiveté and he has gotten over this ridiculous belief; I’m sure his current boyfriend is glad too.
Maybe later I’ll tell you the story about the boat. Haha.
I’m sure you think this same thought all the time: I really wish Oscar Wilde was still alive.
Right?
I recently had a Facebook conversation that was totally worthy of an Oscar Wilde play. But since it was on Facebook, I guess it couldn’t have actually been Wilde…you know, since he’s been dead for over 100 years.
Here you go, the dramatic re-enactment (some names have been changed to protect the innocent):
JEFF: Someone is trying to set me up with someone you know. Richard. I need details.
MIKE: I dated him. He’s super cute and wonderful. I can’t say anything bad about him. But I think maybe he’s dating his ex again….Richard. If he’s not dating him, they are close…and that’s the only issue I’d look out for.
[AUTHOR'S NOTE: When I said he is dating his ex "Richard" I meant to say "Daniel." This is an inciting incident that causes mass confusion later on.]
JEFF: His name’s Mike. That’s the guy setting us up.
MIKE: Hahaha. Oh wait. So RICHARD is trying to set you up with someone? (TELL HIM ALL THE NICE THINGS I SAID ABOUT HIM, BTW). What is Mike’s last name??
JEFF: No… Mike is the ex. He’s setting me up with Richard. Mike P***.
MIKE: I really think Richard is dating Daniel F. Oh god this is confusing. If not, Richard is a good guy and worth a date. What an incestuous gay world.
[AUTHOR'S NOTE: When I first met Jeff we were both young and he taught me many things. Things like how to order a pizza online, how to convince online men to move from Ohio to live with you, and we may have hooked up.]
JEFF: Ok, so let me get this straight. Richard dated Richard, Mike, Mike, and now Daniel . Years ago Jeff hooked up with Mike, and now be has a crush on Mike. Richard is still hung up on Richard, according to Mike. Mike thinks Daniel is no good for Richard, and is setting him up with Jeff. Sound right?
MIKE: Fucking gays. Richard dated Daniel YEARS ago (like before I met you I met Richard and Daniel as a couple).
Richard is besties with Mike Lawson’s friend from Boys & Girls Club and reconnected. And dated Richard briefly. Good guy, but I was itching to move to Phoenix.
Jeff hooked up with Mike P***. Jeff is crushing on Mike P***.
Wait, there are two Richards?
JEFF: No, Jeff hooked up with Mike L, and is crushing on Mike P***, who is crushing on Mario. And I thought you said there were two Richards? I know there are two Mikes.
[AUTHOR'S NOTE: I like how Jeff had to remind me that we hooked up. In my defense, it was about 10 years ago]
MIKE: Mario?
[AUTHOR'S NOTE: If this were really a comedy farce, the role of Mario would be played by some bit actor that would also play the butler. At one point, it would be required for both actors to be on stage, and hilarity would ensue.]
MIKE: Okay….let me map what I think is happening. Richard dated Daniel YEARS ago (like before I met you I met Richard and Daniel as a couple).
Richard is besties with Mike Lawson’s friend from Boys & Girls Club and reconnected. And dated Richard briefly. Good guy, but I was itching to move to Phoenix.
Jeff hooked up with Mike L. Jeff is crushing on Mike P***.
Mike P***. is crushing on Mario.
So Mike P***. wants to set up Jeff with Richard. But Mike L. is pretty certain that Richard is back with Daniel. But if Daniel isn’t in the picture, he suggests that Jeff do it with Richard because he’s awesome. Mike L. only cautions Jeff that MAYBE Richard is still kicking it with Daniel and that could become an issue but Mike L. doesn’t know for certain.
JEFF: So Richard is definitely dating someone right now, but Mike P***. doesn’t like the guy (and it sounds like Richard isn’t that happy either) so Jeff is being set-up as a “friend” with hopes that Richard will dump BF with Undetermined Name. Everyone but BFwUN is aware of this but we’re supposed to pretend we don’t know.
[AUTHOR'S NOTE: 10 minute intermission]
JEFF: Confirmation, BFwUN is Daniel.
[AUTHOR'S NOTE: We're still working on the third act]
Seriously, does this kind of conversation happen to straight people?
This is the one about the ‘Importance of Being Slutty.’
If you’ve ever been 20, I think you can understand this one.
When I was younger (19ish), I dated a guy named Steve. And Steve was pretty dope (that’s a good thing). And I was a jerk to him (in only the way 19ish year olds can be). And I sometimes think back (I don’t have a parenthetical aside for this sentence, but every other sentence in the paragraph has one so I’m searching my brain to think of one…oh well) and I wonder how things would have been if I had been more mature, or if he had been more mature, or if anything was different.
Have you done this?
This obsessive chose-your-own-adventure-reminiscing is only fueled by Facebook. I cyber-stalk a handful of my past lovers (that’s how I got the picture of him above). And I can tell you that Steve appears to be happy and well-fed. So that’s good.
And maybe he would be happier or more well-fed if he still knew me and got to hear all the funny anecdotal stories I have about overheard conversations in grocery stores or the pithy tale I tell of an asparagus and ham casserole dinner gone wrong. Or maybe he’d be less happy if he still knew me.
I wonder at times if any of my past is checking in on me the way that I’m checking in on them. Not interested enough to say, “hey” but concerned enough to click the mouse five or six times and look at the latest Facebook photos and read the most recent blog entries.
Please tell me you check-in on your past lovers too.
Last week I blogged here about a Craigslist Missed Connection that was written about me. It was just a few posts ago, so I’m not going to re-tell the story. Just go read it.
Anyway, I decided to write him. Here’s what I said:
Hi.
I’m pretty certain that your missed connection is me. I don’t know who you are though. I can kind of narrow it down to half a dozen people. Give me some more clues.
And the response that I’ve received: nothing.
What the heck?
Brian said that maybe my email appeared like “fishing.” Well it totally was fishing, I guess. Whatever. I guess this connection is still missed.
This might come as a shock, but there’s been a little part of my life that I’ve been censoring from this blog for the past few months…my dating life.
Since I left Drew, I’ve kind of been playing the field but not blogging about too many of the details. I think that in the past I’ve been known for the opposite – maybe over sharing here and on Facebook or Twitter.
This silence has come for a few reasons. The primary reason is that my blog’s address is in on my Facebook page, and I didn’t want any of the millions of guys I was casually dating to read about one another. I was afraid of some Three’s-Company-like major mix-up that involves two guys I’m dating communicating and totally fucking me over, and ends with me looking at the camera and saying, “Oh, Shucks!” in a Chrissy way…with pig tails.
The second reason I’ve kept my dating life to myself is I feel awkward about exes coming here reading about my current adventures. I can think of one ex that still reads (hi daniel) and the rest of them either don’t care about what I have to say…or me. So this is kind of a non-issue.
The last reason I haven’t blogged about any of these experiences is because I don’t want to seem like a cheap whore that is going out with all of Phoenix.
I’m honestly not involved with many men. Last week Brian and I were joking around and we made a list of the guys that I’ve dated, but used nicknames for each of them. The list of guys that I’ve been even slightly serious with or about in the last year include:
* Julius
* Half Asian
* Jean Gregoire Sagbo
* Home Depot
* Kent Brockman
* Meth-Head Ashton Kutcher
That’s not too many, right?
Whatever. The reason I wanted to write this post is because I totally messed things up with Meth-Head Ashton this weekend. His nickname is derived from one of his past hobbies and a celebrity he resembles. I’m not joking…seriously hot, but with quite a few skeletons in his closet.
Anyway his skeletons were intense. He possesses a few of my relationship deal breakers…but he is ridiculously hot.
Have you ever dated someone longer than you probably should of because you were blinded by their hotness?
Well on Saturday I was sitting in my bedroom – drinking alone – after the Meth-Head Ashton situation really just hit the fan, and I thought, “I kind of wish I could have blogged about this.”
And I came to the realization that there isn’t really any reason to censor myself on this blog. Really, if someone can’t handle me sharing the story, they shouldn’t be my friend. Additionally, if I don’t feel like I want to share something (like my million boyfriends) then maybe I shouldn’t be doing it.
So come back soon, and expect full disclosure.
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