Once Upon A Time I Grew Up

I think I'm done writing silly sex entries.

Or at least, I'm going to take a break; slow down on the quips about boobs and foreplay and whatnot.  I had planned on writing an article about how I got whistled at the other day while passing a construction site, and how it was awesome and I didn't understand this whole rebellion against cat calls because every girl loves being acknowledged, whether they want to admit it or not.  Maybe I'll write it eventually but as I started to type, I got this overwhelming sense of, 'I'm too old for this'.

I mean, I'm almost 30.  It's not like I write about the scientific aspect of sex, I write about my frustrations over guys adamantly leaving their socks on in bed.  What I would like to write more about are relationships and this weird stage that I'm in where I'm officially an adult, but I still don't 100% know how to act like one.  But then I'm afraid that I'll get too personal and I'll either have to censor what I write, or people will read my entries and all they'll see is blah blah blah, me me me.

So I'm going to try my hand at a happy medium here.

For a long time I was drowning, and I finally feel like I'm starting to break the surface.  I have a nice apartment that I've turned into a home, I have a job that I love and am good at, and I'm no longer afraid to wear an outfit with a little color in it- instead of cloaking myself in black and gray and hoping I'll just blend into the background.

But up until about a month ago, I was sinking down, down, down.  It was like my pockets kept filling with rocks that dragged me under every time I tried to come up for air.  I ended that relationship that you all know about, and I came out of the other side alive.  A little battered and broken, but alive.  But then a couple of months later, he threw in a couple of rocks out of nowhere and down I went.

Then one day I started noticing some spots along my hairline that seemed a little thin.  No big deal, I thought, the weather is changing so I'm shedding a little more than usual.  But then the hair started coming out in clumps.  Big, unexplainable, tear-inducing clumps.  I had to start wrapping my hair elastic around my hair 5 times instead of the 3 that I had always done.  I found the little bald spots that maybe weren't noticeable to someone just casually walking by, but to me they were big, glaring spotlights.  My eyebrows and eyelashes soon followed.  They're not completely gone, but they're not completely there either.

More rocks in my pockets.

Little things kept happening that made it so hard for me to see the bright side.  One of my dogs was taken from me in a really cruel way.  My hair was being taken from me.   My ex's parents were taken from me and I missed them to a degree that I was not prepared for.  One morning I randomly slipped on ice and fell down a wooden staircase- taking away my mobility but throwing a pretty nifty back brace my way.  Everything hurt- physically and otherwise.

The worst moment was when I looked around at all my friends and family- every single one of them in a relationship, lots of them married with babies- and I realized that I was no one's first priority.  I had no one who, when asked who in the world they would most want to be in the same room with at that moment, would say, Alexis.

That was probably the deepest I sank.

Then one day things started to get better.  Something just switched in my brain and while I allowed myself to acknowledge that I did have valid things to be sad about if I wanted to be, I also allowed my myself to acknowledge that I deserved a break.  I was exhausted.  I was so worn down I couldn't see straight.  So I gave myself permission to feel the good and the bad.

I'll never see my beautiful, sweet, love-of-my-life dog Emmett again.  And I'm allowed to grieve over that.

I've fallen into this really great groove at work.  And I'm allowed to celebrate that.  One less rock.

I have one eyebrow that is only half the size of the other one because the rest has fallen out.  And if I cry because of this, it's ok.

I have started a new relationship, and this sweet, sweet boy makes me laugh and kisses my head and puts his arm around me in public- all of the little things I had been missing from my last relationship.  And I don't feel selfish by saying that I fucking deserve every bit of it.
Another rock gone.

Match.NoThankYou.Com

Aaaand back to the dating world I go.

The downside?  Totally bummed.
The upside?  More blogs will be coming your way as I step away from a long term, stable relationship and re-enter the world of awkward first dates and having to shave above the knee.

A few months ago, I made the decision to end my relationship.  No one did anything wrong, there was no fighting or ugliness, there was just a non-negotiable life decision that we couldn't agree on.  Did it suck?  Yeah, it super fucking sucked.  Did it have to happen?  Unfortunately, yes.

So after 6 years, we found ourselves packing our things, splitting up the dogs, and walking away.  I think I've been handling things pretty well, although I'm not going to lie and say it didn't take me awhile not to fall apart every time I left work and had to turn left out of the parking lot to my new apartment instead of right, towards my old home full of love and puppies and comfy nights watching 'The Office' while eating a frozen pizza.  I miss a lot of things, but that's the whole point of a break-up.  You're sad and you miss things.  And then you move on because you have to.

Now I'm Single Alexis again, which I have totally forgotten how to be.  I know I used to have some degree of game (do the kids still call it 'game' nowadays?), but that was back when I was young and could stay up past 10:30 without getting tired, and eat carbs all day like a freakin' hooligan without gaining a pound.

Now I'm in bed practically before the sun sets, and a piece of bread has me on the ground in the fetal position for roughly 2-3 hours.

Everyone asks me if I would consider online dating.  Like, EVERYONE asks me.  Some people have asked me multiple times.  My answer is always the same.

No.

I have nothing against the idea of online dating; in fact, I know quite a few people who have done it.  Some have even married the person they met.  It's just not for me, and this is why:

I'm not going to spend $30 a month so I can have potentially creepy strangers message me online, when I can be out in the real world for free, meeting potentially creepy strangers face to face.  Furthermore, I feel like if you make your first impression of someone based on the things they have told you via email- or even over the phone- it's not an accurate first impression.  The reason I think this is because I know I would DEFINITELY make myself sound waaaayyyy cooler than I actually am, if the person I was talking to had nothing to base their opinion on besides a profile picture and some general information about my age, ethnicity, and whether I was a dog or cat person.  I could very easily be on the phone with some guy, making myself out to be the god damn Duchess of Awesome, when in reality I'm sprawled out on the couch in yesterday's underwear, eating mini tacos.

Another reason I shy away from online dating is because I figure that if I meet a guy at the store or the dog park or wherever, aesthetically speaking he is seeing the real me.  Hair in a bun, barely any makeup except for my attempt at covering up my adult zits (which are like teenager zits, but they're more aggressive because they know what they want in life), and a head to toe Target outfit that cost a total of $12.  By seeing how a person looks in their everyday life right off the bat, this decreases the pressure of having to get super gussied up once you go on your first date.  Plus, when I try to put on a full face of makeup and do my hair, I end up looking something like this:

Don't get me wrong- I've been out, I've met some people, I have high hopes.  Well, maybe medium hopes...best to start low and work ones way up.  Is it the absolute worst to suddenly be single when every other person you know is getting married and having babies?  Like, EVERY. SINGLE. PERSON?  Yes.  I truly love you all, but on this end of things, it's soul-crushingly rough.  

Still, I see my current situation as a good thing.  I get to start over, which gets a little easier to accept every day.  For the first time in a long time, I can do whatever I want, go wherever I want, and see whoever I want.  And once I figure out what exactly it is that I want, I'll go ahead and do it.  But in the meantime, I'm ok with my couch and mini tacos.

Git Out Mah Face, Facebook

Ok, so as most of you know by now, Facebook has recently set out to remind us in one minute flat just how pathetic or awesome the last 10 years of our lives have been.  Normally I would be all over this because if there's one thing I love, it's a picture slideshow set to sappy music.  And make it a picture slide show about ME?...sign my narcissistic ass up!

Unfortunately, within the first 3 seconds of my video, I was already re-evalutating my life and wondering where I went wrong.

You see, apparently they use your oldest profile picture as the very first slide.  Now, although this may seem hard to believe, I don't go back and revisit my album of profile pictures, so you can imagine my surprise when a picture of me and a very significant ex of mine popped up on my screen.  A picture I hadn't seen in years.  A picture of me kissing his freakin nose because at the time I was just so relieved to have a boyfriend- and a very, very serious boyfriend at that-  that I apparently needed the entire world to know.

This led me to think about all of the people I have dated between him and my current relationship, and it made me kind of sad to think about everything- and everyone?- I've been through since then.  It also made me mad because I don't think people should be judged if they date a lot of people, and I certainly was.  I was never blind to the fact that there were quite a few people in college who told people I was a slut, or just assumed that I was sleeping with every guy I hung out with.  The fact of the matter is, I wasn't being trampy, I was being a college student (Because lord knows in high school I wasn't doing anything.  While other kids were off drinking and rubbing their American Eagle jeans together, I was playing pool or riding around in Claudia's truck.  No drinking, no drugs, no sex, no anything but the very rare kiss from a guy.).  In addition, I've never had a one night stand, I've never gotten knocked up, and I've never had to refer back to the STD slideshow they showed us in 12th grade health class.  Although...if I'm being honest, it is strange sometimes to compare my former carefree life to my current one where I'm living with my long term boyfriend and where we refer to ourselves as Mommy and Daddy when talking to our pets.

Anyway, the remainder of the pictures on the Facebook video were of people I haven't talked to in years, and every single Russian Christmas family photo of the last 3 years.  No pictures of the girl's I've been friends with for over a decade, no pictures of Dave and I, no pictures of the animals- and god knows I've posted enough pictures of them on Facebook that at least one should have popped up.

Lastly, all of my "significant posts" from the past 10 years have been about getting a job, all of which - with the exception of my current one- obviously haven't worked out.  Especially my "dream job", which ended up being the portal to Hell, with the devil herself blowing fairy dust in my face and telling me I might actually look a little pretty if I put on makeup once in awhile.

Now let's all take a moment to acknowledge that I just wasted an entire blog post explaining why a company full of hipster strangers in California who know absolutely nothing about me have given me a complex about my life.  Well played Zuckerberg, well played.