Archive for the 'guys' Category

Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?

Me.

So I mentioned in my last post that Mifflin invited me to meet the family. I was shocked/excited he invited me…but at the same time he had a couple of Margaritas so I told him to really think about it and suggested he talk to me about it later.

It turns out he really did (alcohol free) want me to meet the fam. The plan was he was going to call me after the game and I would meet him and his family at a BBQ.

Saturday (after my last home football game as a student EVER :() I tailgated while waiting for his call. Now, for Mifflin to actually follow through with plans would be an amazing feat. And guess what?

He amazed me.

Well, I got a call saying that we weren’t going to the BBQ. Instead we were going OUT to dinner.

Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.

Out to dinner? Just me. With his family? I thought there would be buffers–other people, lots of activity.

But you know what? I could work better with this scenario. I could get to know them and they could get to know me. Mono y Mono…kind of. So dinner it is.

I was still in my football watching gear and not feeling so great about that but Sally’s little brother GW told me I looked gorgeous….guess he could tell I was nervous. Love that kid.

They picked me up in the Indiana Van outside the IM Building. Mifflin was there waiting for me.

While we hugged he added these kind words:

“Don’t talk to my mother,” he said. “Just get in the van and avoid her, she’s going to ask you questions.”

“Well, if I’m not going to talk to your mom for the whole time you better be talking to me alllllllll through dinner,” I said.

I hopped in the van and introduced myself to the family.

Even to his mom. ***Dun Dun Dun, LB doesn’t follow the rules.***

“I’m Mifflin’s mom,” she said.

So that is what I will call her…since that’s what she told me to call her. I honestly don’t know what I would call her but Mifflin’s mom…even in real life (as opposed to blogging life…i.e. Mifflin isn’t really Mifflin’s name, I hope you would know that…but who knows)

Mifflin’s mom asked me all the normal questions. What year are you? What’s your major? What are your future plans? She acted impressed by my answers which made me feel good.

Dinner was awesome. And hilarious! And on top of the funny family dynamics there was a magician that went table to table. Corny but an awesome ice breaker.

Know what was an even better ice breaker? Embarrassing childhood stories told by Mifflin’s mom.

Apparently Mifflin loved rollerblading.

OK, I wish you knew what he looked like because if you did you wouldn’t even begin to imagine this huge guy (6′ 1″, 264) skating down the street. I’m laughing just imagining. Then on top of the inline skates he would wear a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle’s costume (Donatelo OF COURSE, only the best!) and parade around Indiana. How cute is that?

You should have seen his face. Priceless. At least I got to add that Donatelo was my favorite TMNT as well. I would have never imagined Mifflin 1. on rollerblades 2. fitting into a TMNT costume.

I also would have never imagined him inviting me to meet his family.

But it happened.

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A Big Ol’ Ehhhh Moment

If you read my blog you know I have a lot of Ehhhh moments.

I Ehhhh here, I ehhhh there. Hey, they happen and they can’t be ignored!

This morning I had my Real Estate class—probably the longest class EVER. Don’t you hate when that happens? 15 minutes seems like an hour…anyways…

I walk out with a friend chatting about marathons and triathlons (he was talking about triathlons—not me, don’t get scared!) and tells me I am “hardcore” so I am feeling pretty good. Actually, I am feeling pretty hardcore.

My hardcore self and I head to the library. I put my bag and Collegian down and head out to get some coffee–extremely necessary after the Real Estate class.

Side note: Yes, I trust my fellow students. I leave my backpack unattended in the Media Library. I probably shouldn’t, but I do.

Anyways (once again)….

I head out the doors to the Cafe. As I am exiting a kid in a yellow shirt is entering. Exact same time. Exact same door.

Do I know the kid in the yellow shirt?

Oh, I know the kid in the yellow shirt. Let’s call him YS.

I had a brief–very brief– relationship with YS. It consisted of meeting each other through a student group. At that point we were acquaintances. Then we ended up meeting up later on down the road and kind of dated. On the second date (approximately) we watched the “The Departed.” I brought ice cream, I am awesome. After the movie he walked me to my car and I drove him back to his apartment. On the extremely short car ride he manged to squeeze in this question:

“Have you ever dated anyone outside of your race?”

My brain’s reaction: “WHAT THE F-BOMB?!“WHERE DID THIS COME FROM?!”

I reacted quickly because I was so incredibly shocked. There are no words to describe how I felt.

“Yes. But I didn’t think that would come up,” I said.

My brief history: 2002 was the last time I had dated a white guy. Since then I have dated Puerto Rican, Jamaican, and black guys. That’s just how it’s been. I don’t discriminate. YS is white. See, I don’t discriminate.

YS then goes on to ask me weird questions about me dating “them.” And says something along the lines of “OK, well I just don’t want to be compared to them.”

TO THEM?! COMPARED?! RACE WISE?! SAY WHAT?!

We talked for a while. I was still in shock. He got out of the car. I drove home. During the entire drive I was thinking–

Do people really ask this question? Is this normal in starting relationships these days?

Like any girl who needs advice I decided to ask my roommates. Not one of my roommates have ever been asked this question.

Why me?!

I let it go. I thought I was overreacting. We hung out one more time and I realized I couldn’t do it any more. I talked to my parents about it–they agreed it was weird.

I guess I pulled one of those “we aren’t talking anymore” tricks to end the lack of relationship. He called once. He didn’t leave a message. No Message = I don’t call back. I WOULD have called back he had left a message. That’s how I play.

A week later I received an angry text (oh, how I love real conversations via text–not cool) asking me why I haven’t called him. I let him know that I did not receive his voice mail asking me to call him. He then turned all nice and invited me over to hang out at his apartment. Funny change in mood, huh?!

I declined.

And that was the end of our story.

Until today when we passed through the exact same door at the exact same time.

Ehhhhhhhh.

(Don’t worry I am a nice girl. I said “Hi, how are you?” He asked the same in passing. Apparently he is “good.” I am “great, thanks!”)

Maybe Yes. Maybe No.

I am a repeater.

Yes, I learn from my mistakes… but sometimes I repeat them.

Especially when it comes to guys.

This is not easy to admit either, for your information!

It is amazing how many texts I receive about a week before classes start on campus. (Mom and Dad: if you are reading this I checked and most are “IN”– Verizon customers. Can you hear me now? Good.) And yes my parents still pay my cell phone bill, some of you are probably calling me PATHETIC but it’s my last few months then the bill is on me FOR LIFE. Look, I am milking this whole parent thing for what its worth. Don’t be a hater!

Anyways…most of these texts come from guys at school wondering when I will get here, what I am up to etc., etc. BlahBlahBlah.

One of them in particular I have been friends with since the first week of Freshman year. I was drunk (shocking, at Penn State right?!) and yelled to two huge boys from across the street.

“So you aren’t going to say ‘Hi?'” yelled the oh, so classy freshman me.

Well, they did come over and said “What’s up” and then we found that they were football players (ooooooooo! at this point in my college career I thought this was celebrity status…ehhh not so much any more) and they lived 4th floor Mifflin. I lived on 5th floor Mifflin.

Anyways we became friends and have been for the past 3 years. Let’s call him Mifflin from now on, that’s easy right? Well, MIfflin ended up liking me. Yea, I know I am so irresistible haha! And he tried to start a relationship with me.

“Larisa, come to my room to say goodbye before you leave for Christmas break,” said Mifflin, sincerely.

“OK, maybe I will,” said the oh, so classy freshman me.

Later that night…

Sally and I had come back from a party and she ran down to the boys room to see what was up. I went to put stuff in my room and was debating walking alllllll the wayyyyy down to the boys room just to say a dumb goodbye. Before I even put my stuff down Sally comes sprinting down the hallway.

“DON’T GO IN THERE!”exclaimed Sally.

“Why?” asked the oh, so classy freshman me. (if you haven’t noticed I had a very large vocabulary during my freshman year)

The story was she went down there to say “Have a nice Christmas break” when she saw many a girl and one of which happened to be making out with Mifflin. Apparently, there was someone else much more classy than me at PSU!

I just didn’t get it…he wanted to confess his feelings for me. He wanted me to say goodbye. He wanted to see me. Did he also want me to see him making out with another girl? Did he think this was going to make me believe he was serious about liking me?

Needless to say that didn’t work for me. Yes, I have to confess; when a guy wants to be with me and I hear he is hooking up withother girls, I am not really turned on by that at all. Weird, I know.

So after that issue, we met up later in life. And this time he had a girlfriend, which I didn’t find out about until later. Lovely huh?

So like every semester he would text me and like always we would chat. This semester I told him he could by me a drink.

He said “whenever u want.”

And now he is back once again. Not in my life like before but possibly worse.

Mifflin is in my class.

No lie. I can’t make this stuff up kids! What are the odds. 43,000 students…?!

Let me also make this clear: There was more to our friendship than the mess he was our Freshman year or the dumbass he was our Junior year. I mean we were friends. Good friends… ehhhhh.

I convinced myself that he is a good person…just not a good person to me. So do I make him buy me a Mojito…I really, really want one…and chat about life and what we have been up to? Or do I sit in the same class as him three days a week ignoring the history we have. I don’t know.

And it’s not a big deal.

Just life.

And I am thirsty.

“What’s your story?”

That’s my line. I use it when awkward guys approach my girlfriends and I at bars.

They always come over to us and say “Why do you girls look so bored?”

(As if insulting us is going to get them anywhere.)

We used to argue..now we just say bluntly “We aren’t.” (And for the record, we really aren’t. We were laughing and having a good time with our beer in our little corner, I PROMISE!!!!)

Then…there is dead silence. Now what? They expected us to argue with them that was their game plan and we knew it. So now the awkward guys just walk away, right? Nope. They stare for a little while and then one of us asks them,

“Do you come here often?” or something along those lines to get some kind of conversation started, not that we want to but they don’t leave (remember the staring). They continue to stand. They stare.

So, they start answering our questions (never once asking us a question, it’s at this point that’s we know they are keepers). Once I realize they are never going to elaborate on where they are from or on the drink they are drinking I ask them, “What’s your story?”

“Uhhhh. What’s my story?” dumbass #1 answers my question with a question. And a stare.

“Yes, what’s your story?” I repeat.

I ask them this because its an open question. I know this guy is a moron already and most importantly I know I never want to have anything to do with him but I give him the opportunity to change my mind. And I know he could totally take advantage of this question.

If he has a shitty job, he doesn’t have to tell me.

If he hates his family, he doesn’t have to tell me.

If his life is really boring, he doesn’t have to tell me.

If he is drunk, he should not tell me.

This question gives him the chance, if he is smart, to tell me the most amazing things about him. The craziest story, the funniest thing that happened to him. ANYTHING that would make him seem absolutely wonderful. I would totally take advantage of it.

But these guys they just keep on staring. And then they tell me they measure fish for a living and they have to work on the weekends (which they then elaborate on how much that sucks) and how they went to UCONN-Groton (it’s not a bad school, but it’s NOT UCONN-Groton, it’s Avery Point….did he really go? hmmmm.)

They he follows his “story” with “My life really kinda sucks.”

“No! You get paid, a salary, to measure fish! You can get a tan, you aren’t stuck in an office and you are out right now!! I think you need to put more of a positive spin on it,” I cheerfully say. Oh I am just so cheerful 🙂

Then he asks what our stories are (great question fella!). We answer in the ways one should, which probably is not a good idea in our case… because we want them to go away, ehhhh. ( I am making a mental note of this…)

Now our poor fish boy is realizing he has nothing on us girls we have our shit together (or so it seems! ha!)…so he realizes he has embarrassed himself again and leaves us alone, right?

NOPE.

We have to leave.

He and his friends made me get up, walk out of the bar and lose my buzz due to their lack of conversation or ability to walk away from or table.