Christmas Eve eve

Christmas Eve eve (that would be last Saturday for anyone counting), I drove up to school to see my bestest roommate and runner-up for the love of my life: Satchel. Satchel proved third time's a charm for living with men. Of course it helped that we split the rent and had our own bedrooms. And never had sex. Satchel is my platonic life partner and he was back in town and throwing a party.

I called Conor to let him know about the shindig and he was really excited about having me come up. He quickly offered me his spare bedroom and invited me beforehand for dinner.

"Caroline's cooking," he said.

What he didn't tell me was that they were having Caroline's family over to celebrate Christmas. I found myself at my ex boyfriend's Christmas celebration with his girlfriend's family. I don't know if they felt awkward or not, but I felt it was a new personal low for me. The worst part is that I kept thinking, he dumped me for this? Her family is so white trash: they wore camouflage to Christmas dinner and joked about who was in jail most recently. Caroline's mother won.

During Conor's tour of his new house, he pointed out the spare bedroom he made up for me and said, "Looks like my old apartment, doesn't it?" So I would be spending the night in a replica of Conor's old apartment. Yup, I am pathetic.

I told Conor we should take two cars to Satchel's party. The evening was such an emotional low that I didn't know I would come back and sleep in the bedroom next to Conor's and his live-in girlfriend. Additionally, if I didn't know that many people at Satchel's I would only stay a couple of hours before trucking it back to the city. But they insisted it would be alright and I got to pick up Caroline's brother on the way.

I walked in the door and screamed, "Love of my life!" while jumping into Satchel's arms. And immediately locked eyes with Brad, a boy who never called again after I threw up on him five years ago. Shit. It turned out I knew a lot of Satchel's friends and was immediately placed at the drinking game table with some very cute boys.

Satchel came over and put his hand on my shoulder. I looked at him and whispered, "Your friend David is cute. Very cute." I made eyes at David and Satchel and I laughed.

"Well he's single and graduated from school and is a very nice guy."

"Shit. Those are higher standards then I've had in the last three months." We laughed again.

I had been playing a drinking game for the past 45 minutes, so I didn't know how discreet I was, or if Satchel told David about my revelation, but when the cameras began flashing, I was in more than a few of his. As the night continued, there was ass grabbing and light spanking as we passed each other into the kitchen for more beer. Then he was two seats away from me at the drinking game table. Then he was next to me. Then his hand was on my knee.

I froze. I didn't know what to do next. It seemed like I've been on nothing but blind dates for the past several months and during that time, I've forgotten how to flirt. My instinct was to put my hand on top of his, but it seemed like a lame maneuver. I rested it there for a minute, squeezed, then pulled away. His hand remained on my knee. Good.

Conor called me into the kitchen. Caroline wants to go home. Tough. There's a cute boy putting his hand on my knee in the other room, I'm not leaving. This is exactly why I wanted to take two cars. Conor was afraid to tell Caroline that I wasn't ready to leave because he feared she would get angry with him. I brought up the last time I was in town with Nick, who he hadn't seen in two or three years. Caroline informed him that no more people were coming over to his house and then she locked him out of his room. Again Conor hadn't seen Satchel in two years and Caroline wanted them to go home.

Per Conor's request, I broke the news to Caroline that I wasn't ready to leave. "What about your brother? Can he pick you up?"

"No, he's drunk already," she snapped. I was taken aback at the tone of her voice.

"Well what about his friends? Can anyone come and get you?"

"No."

"Well, sorry, but I'm not leaving yet."

I turned back to the Boy Whose Hand is on My Knee. Behind me, I heard another girl ask Caroline what's wrong.

"My driver is off playing drinking games." Jesus Christ.

Five minutes had passed and Conor called me into the kitchen again. He wants to take my truck home. My truck. His girlfriend. Satchel jumped in saying David could drive me back to Conor's. He hollered down the hall to David, "Hey D, can you take Sarah back to her car later?"

"Sure."

I turned to Conor. "Conor, it's my truck."

"I know, I'm sorry. But she's mad at me now."

"She is being utterly ridiculous. When I've become stranded at parties, I've always called someone or walked. Or slept it off on the couch. Or a bedroom. Or in the back seat of your car." Conor laughed. I had done the latter the past Cinco de Mayo while he was drinking in a hotel with Caroline. "Conor," I reached up and brushed his hair back, "Are you happy? I mean with Caroline?"

"We just moved in together." He avoided answering my question. Conor cannot be alone. He is the neediest boy I've ever met. He used to call at 4 AM and I'd come over and find him passed out on his living room floor next to a shot glass and an empty bottle of whisky. At the time I had mistaken it for liking me and needing me, but with time I realized he just couldn't be alone. Conor will stick a relationship out, even if it's bad, unless he can lily hop into another relationship. Well, that or he really does like her and doesn't want to tell me.

He ran his hand under my chin and cupped it, " I love you."

"I love you too, Conor." I leaned in to embrace him and we kissed lightly.

"I should have told you that years ago." I hate that all my movie moments are with Conor. I wish that they were with someone who actually wants me, not someone who's making sure he's still desirable.

I shoved my car keys in his hand. "Yes, you should have," and I walked out of the kitchen and headed back to my drinking game, where I would now be losing intentionally.

Forget You,

you "Aussies." With your "summertime." And your "short pants." Your merry "beach Christmases."

Think y'all are so "special," do you? Well, I'm off to my beach house too. Sure I'll be wearing my "new winter coat," but the tide will look the same. I just "won't be able to go in without getting sick."

Be back on the 30th. Be jealous.

A Christmas Tradition

It all started when some of Santa's elves got sick. The trainee elves did not produce toys as fast as the regular ones and Santa began to feel the pre-Christmas pressure.

Then Mrs. Claus announced that her mother was coming to visit, which stressed Santa even more.

Next day when he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two others had jumped the fence and were out, Heaven knows where.

Then when he began to load the sleigh, one of the floorboards cracked, the toy bag fell to the ground and scattered all the toys.

So, frustrated, Santa went into the house for a cup of apple cider and a shot of rum.

When he went to the cupboard, he discovered the elves had almost finished the cider and hidden the liquor. In his frustration, he accidentally dropped the cider jug, and it broke into hundreds of little glass pieces all over the kitchen floor.

He went to get the broom and found the mice had eaten all the straw off the end of the broom.

Just then the doorbell rang, and an irritated Santa marched to the door,
yanked it open, and there stood a little angel with a great big Christmas tree.

The angel said very cheerfully, "Merry Christmas, Santa. Isn't this a lovely day? I have a beautiful tree for you. Where would you like me to stick it?"

And so began the tradition of the little angel on top of the Christmas tree.

Merry Christmas to all my bloggers!

Crunch This

I called the gym to renew my membership. I was speaking to what I could only assume was a perky, caffeinated, 30-something with abs that made the skin on her stomach look wrinkly.

"Okay, Hon, well let me just look you up in our system."

"Okay," I put another chocolate cookie in my mouth and chewed. I figure because it's a soft cookie, she can't hear me cheat.

"So did you get married in the past year?"

I choked on my cookie. Is that what is supposed to happen after you join the swanky gym in the swanky part of town for a year? You get married? Was this a guaranteed result that I had somehow missed?

Does this mean I get some sort of refund?

Meeting

It was a holiday for the underpaid
Everybody got a haircut and lemonade
-- Angie Aparo, "Spaceship"

"Will you come into my office, please?"

Oh fuck.

"Shut the door behind you."

Double fuck. Fuckity fuck.

"Fuck."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

She picks up an envelope off her desk and tries to hand it to me. "Open this, please."

I just eye it suspiciously, refusing to touch it. "Is it pink?"

She laughs, "No. We're offering you a raise." She extends her reach again.

This time I grab the envelope.

Let's get physical

After having an off-blog conversation with another blogger about the fear that I want too much and have unrealistic expectations regarding men, he gave me an exercise to help ground me and define what I want. I don't know if he ever expected me to follow through on it, but I continued to work on it whenever I felt overwhelmed.

He told me to list 15 qualities I want in a man, no matter how shallow they may be. So I did:

1. Professional
2. Creative
3. Intelligent
4. Witty
5. Like dogs
6. Gently teases
7. Confident
8. Respectful
9. Larger than me
10. Reads
11. Affectionate
12. Protective
13. Financially stable
14. Kind
15. Physically fit

Then he told me to break it down into three groups of five with the first group being the most important and the third being the most expendable. So I did:

• Like dogs
• Intelligent
  
• Professional
• Respectful
• Affectionate

• Protective
• Witty
• Reads
• Larger than me
• Kind

• Gently teases
• Confident
• Physically fit
• Financially stable
• Creative

I was sort of hoping that Intelligent blankets Reads and Professional blankets Financially stable. He said the point of the exercise is to find someone who has all of the top five and as many as the second grouping as possible. The rest are just benefits. The exercise has helped me define in more concrete terms what I want. It's made me feel a bit better about things.

For me it's important to find someone that like animals. It shows that they are willing to love something more than themselves. A good vocabulary turns me on; knowing his homophones is like talking dirty to me. One time a guy said "convoluted" to me and my mind flashed to bad things I wanted to do to him, all because he could use that word in a sentence. He has to have a career because if I can do it, anyone can.

Oh god, I'm such a cliche. I want an intelligent and affectionate man. Who doesn't?

Decoding Sarah

If I were being truly gut-wrenchingly honest with myself:

"I don't want to get married" really means "No one wants to marry me. Why won't anyone love me? Why?"

Alternately, it also means "This asshole is creepy."

"I don't want to have children" really means "I don't have a husband that would support me so I could be a stay at home mom and do this parenting thing properly."

Alternately, it also means "I'm afraid of becoming my mother."

"Grey's Anatomy is my favorite show" really means "I like watching Derek turn down Meredith in all these painful and humiliating ways because that happens to me all. The. Time."

Alternately, it also means "I loved Patrick Dempsey since Can't Buy Me Love. Never has nerddom been so hot. So hot."

"I'm lonely" really means "I want a figment of my imagination. I will inevitably be disappointed by the living breathing version and spooning on my couch will never be comfortable because it's just too small."

Alternately, it also means... well, that's just what it means.