Friday, January 29, 2010

Happy Birthday, Me.

I think people should get their birthday off from school and work. Veteran's Day and President's Day... they're cool and everything, but my birthday is a special day. Special just for me. I don't want my fellow students or my coworkers to say, "Happy Birthday, Calvin." I don't. You wanna know why? Because I don't ever want to see my fellow students or coworkers on my birthday. I don't want to see them. Because I should be home or at a movie... or maybe on a date with a girl who knows it's my birthday and is planning on "putting out" as my gift.

I also wish I was the type of guy who was comfortable wearing a "Kiss Me! It's My Birthday!" t-shirt. I'd be scared that complete strangers might actually do it. Don't get me wrong. I think it would be awesome if random hotties just walked up and laid one on me. But I think that sort of invitation would be too broad. It says "Kiss Me". That means that gay dudes might feel like I've given them permission to kiss me. Or even worse... what if a super ugly chick saw me walking in the mall and squealed to her friends, "THERE IT IS! I PRAYED THIS MORNING FOR THIS EXACT MOMENT!" followed by her hobbled sprint toward me (cause we all know an ugly girl with a limp is so much uglier). And with my luck, I'd be walking down the street at The Gateway and there'd be a few short buses parked outside of Discovery Gateway. I'd get swarmed by all the occupants who could read. Because, really... how many attractive women actually read a shirt like that and do something about it? None. Zero.

The bottom line is that I'm too shy to ever wear a shirt like that. I'd rather just blend into the background of most social situations. A shirt like that just draws unnecessary attention to myself. I'm a different person in my classes. If I ever know someone in class with me, then I can be myself and I turn out to be pretty funny and popular, which I'm not used to. But usually I don't know anyone so I sit at the back of the class and take notes.

I've been admiring a girl in my Intro to Psychology class... from afar, of course. She's so cute. I don't want to say "hot" cause that makes her seem less classy than I think she is. I have no idea if she's classy or not, but it's easier to go from "cute" to "hot" than the other direction, so I'm gonna start with "cute". She has a really hard name to remember, and believe me, I've tried to remember it. I'm pretty sure it starts with an "m"... like, Mikaela or something. I've been trying to sit close to her for the last three weeks, but I always get to class about two minutes late so I'm forced to sit near the front. That means I have no choice but to crank my whole entire body around every five minutes just to look at her.

Well, Wednesday it happened. I got to class late and quickly scanned the class for Mikaela. I didn't see her right away so I hurried and closed my eyes to see if I could smell her shampoo in the room. I couldn't... so I opened my eyes and looked for an empty seat. There were two empty seats near the back of the class so I wandered further into the room and decided to sit in the second row to the back, leaving one empty desk directly behind me.

I plopped down and took out my notebook. About fifteen minutes later I saw Mikaela walk into class through the door behind the professor. She glanced around the room and then started heading my direction. It appeared as though she would be sitting behind me. I got a pit in my stomach for absolutely no reason. Actually, I probably tensed up because I realized the odds were slightly better that day that we may engage in some sort of verbal exchange.

She sat behind me and I heard her fumbling around in her bag. Since her desk was up against my chair, her activity was shaking my own desk around quite a bit. I glanced over my right shoulder (kinda like I do when someone is irritating me in a movie theatre) just to let her know, through my mesmerizing eye contact and body language, that I wanted to hold her hand some point in the future. I think she knew exactly what I was trying to communicate cause she whispered, "Sorry I'm being so loud." I replied, "You are being loud. I'm trying to sleep up here." It sounded funny in my head, but I don't think she heard me cause she just kept on opening up every single zippered pocket in a 100 ft radius.

She leaned forward again and said, "Sorry again... but did I miss anything?" I can't express to you my excitement at being able to finally talk to this girl. I said, "Not much. Wanna see my notes?" She replied, "That would be awesome." I glanced down at my notes and realized I had doodled in the margins of my Psychology notebook. I had drawn two tanks, Bert holding a gun or something, and several transparent cubes. At the top of the page I had drawn 5 or 6 of those barn sketches where you have to draw it without lifting the pen off the paper. I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath. I handed her my notebook and waited for her to look it over. I watched her eyes bounce around the page to each of my doodles. Finally, I said, "The tanks and the cubes aren't part of the notes. Those are just my super fun doodles. But Bert and the barns up here (pointing with my pen)... you need to make sure you write those down. They're gonna be on the test." She heard me say that, luckily, and she started laughing. Unfortunately, it was a deeper laugh than I was expecting. She whispered, "Did you say that's Bert? Like from Sesame Street?" "Yeah." I replied. "I know it doesn't look like him, but that's cause you can't see his eyes through his sunglasses and that cigarette hanging out of his mouth is distracting." We talked for a while about my Bad-A Bert doodle, while she was copying my notes. It was great.

Anyway, maybe I can make some slow and steady progress with this girl whose name starts with an "M". I'll get to class early next week and see if she goes out of her way to sit by me.


Wednesday, January 27, 2010

The Mormon Bachelor Pad is Not Located in Provo You Freaking Idiots

Started my new job Monday... It starts at 6 am. 6 am is the worst time for anything. I do get off at 3pm, but the Disney afternoon has been replaced by suckiness so I am at a loss for something to do when I get home.

Calvin, Aaron and I are going to try and buy this house. We were sitting around a few weeks ago realizing the amount of money that we toss away in rent every month. If we owned the house, not only could we actually build equity, but we could also rent this place and get a portion of our mortgage paid for. Luckily the guy we found to help us get a loan seems to be without scruples and claims getting us a loan will be no problem.

When I mentioned that I had been laid-off and fired since my mission (and, at the time didn't have a job) he said, "Don't even worry about it. If you can fog a mirror I can get you a mortgage." Man I love America. All those people who think I am a "no account loser" because of the whole getting kicked out of college and losing another job can stuff it! I'm gonna be a homo wner - or wait, home owner.

Our landlord is a little too excited to sell it to us. I think he is in foreclosure or something because he says he has to get approval from his mortgage company to sell it to us. Which I'm pretty sure is not how it works under ideal circumstances. We made him an offer though and he seems pretty excited to unload it on us. He even said he'd try and get the bank to go lower, which is great, but that would mean he makes less money... what do I know, I got kicked out of college.

Sanders and I haven't seen much of each other lately. She started spring semester and I got a job. Our phone calls and texts have dropped in frequency, as well. I think that I am done with her. Not quite the light switch experience like Calvin describes, but I don't think about her as often as I used to. I don't get that sorta sick feeling like I ate too many dill pickles too fast when I don't hear from her and think she might be out with someone else.

I still care about her a lot. I like talking to her. I want her to be happy... but the flame I felt before, now feels more like spilling warm ketchup on myself.

Selfishly, I think of how amazing my life would be with her. Living on a tropical beach, running a business together, raising a family, having sex... I don't care what anyone says about roles, that would be awesome. (okay, the family and sex thing aren't exclusive to her, but I really like thinking about them... a lot)

Unselfishly though, I am not in love with her. Pursuing a relationship based off of the good life we would have together isn't fair to either one of us. (Now that I think about it, both of those scenarios are selfish... just because something is selfish though doesn't necessarily mean that it is bad, or that it is wrong.)

I don't know what love is. I just know that what she and I have is not love. At least not for me.

It's a decision that I have come to after lots of prayer, fasting, and conversation with unqualified third parties. I'm not in love. I know I'll miss her though. I don't want to just cut it off. What if we hang out for a couple months more and I change my mind again. I'm obviously a fickle dude. So, I don't know... I don't know. I just know that now, it's over... and I'm not rushing off to tell her or change it or anything I'm just rolling. I guess you could say it's how I roll.

I do think that Sanders deserves some sort of explanation... however, I am going to wait on that and see how things shake out. I'm thinking that she is feeling the same way as I am. What, with her lack of contact and all. She is making less effort than me, in fact. I have been initiating what little communication we've been having over the past few days. Neither one of us are saying or acting like anything's wrong. We're both just using the whole, "I'm busy" thing.

If I can manage it, I am comfortable with both of us just mutually fading out slowly. If she doesn't push then I won't either, and I think it/us will just... go away. I've decided though, if I ever feel like she is more invested than me that I will tell her straight up. It'll be interesting to see what happens.

I'm not ruling out one or two more good make-out sessions mind you. (I know, I know, I'm such a douche nozzle or whatever incorrectly used insult you think applies to me.) Whether you believe me or not, I will not be "using" Sanders. If the opportunity arises, and I don't feel like our feelings for each other are mutual, or our feelings towards a "snoggin sesh" are mutual, then I wont make-out with her. Scouts Honor. She's one of my best friends, and I do care about how she feels.

BUT... she is an amazing kisser, perhaps the best so far, and we have had a few conversations about how much we love kissing each other and how well we kiss together. On one occasion Sanders even said that if we ever broke up we should still roll around together afterward from time to time. Pending we're both single and around each other. What a cool chick (sigh) Costa Rica, Big Boobs, great kisser... why can't I be in love with this one?

To add to my douche-ness, I bought tickets to the Slightly Stoopid concert this Friday up in Park City. I somehow failed to notice when I bought those tickets two months ago that that is Calvin's Birthday. I'm going to go to the concert anyway. He and I can celebrate his birth, together... the next day... in a more intimate setting. More intimate than the party Lance has busted butt to throw for him. So, Friday, send Calvin your love (it'd be nice if he got more love than me on this blog for a change).


Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Rodney and Molly Sittin' In a Tree...

My older brother, Rod, has been married for about two years. He got married while I was on my mission so the only memory I have of his wedding are the photos my family mailed to me while I was in Ireland. His wife's name is Molly and she is pretty freaking awesome.

When my family mailed me the photos I remember thinking, "Wow. She's really not attractive." I passed around the photos to other missionaries to make sure it wasn't just me. It wasn't. She's actually bordering on being ugly. Which is odd because my older brother is a pretty good looking guy. He's hilarious, as well. His sense of humor is more crude than mine is, but he's always making everyone around him laugh. I don't feel threatened by him, either. I think it's because (since his humor is so often off-color) people get sick of him rather quickly. Usually, people laugh hysterically at first. After 10 or 20 jokes, the laughter starts to die down and it turns into "courtesy", awkward type of laughter. But when he keeps on telling the gross, bodily function, personal hygiene types of jokes, people usually get irritated and leave the room. That's when I used to step in and steal all the attention.

When I was in Ireland, around my 18 month mark, my family put together a video of everyone in my family. It was amazing. I got to see how everyone had changed since I'd been gone. But it was also pretty awesome to see my brother and his new wife. Rod was video taping her, asking her questions and it was obvious they were in love. There were lots of inside jokes and Molly's laugh was adorable. I could tell from the video why he had chosen to marry her. She was perfect for him. He even made a "period' joke on the tape and Molly cocked her head to the side and said, "Roooooodney!". But she was smiling and it was obvious she was doing it out of obligation and that she really thought the joke was funny. She was perfect. Except she was ugly.

I got home from my mission and met her for the first time. It was weird meeting a new member of my family that everyone else had known for an entire year. I noticed she had a big butt. Not just "round" or "hippy". She had a big, unproportionate rear end. I watched Rod cuddling her on the couch and tickling her. She was kicking and giggling. It was cool to see them interacting... in person.

Rodney is my go-to man for dating and marriage advice. I'm not sure if he should be cause he's only been married for about two years, but it's two years longer than me so I know he has something to teach me.

I went to my parents house for dinner on Sunday and Rod was there with Molly. I pulled him aside and asked him what I should be looking for. I asked what I should expect. He knew what I was asking even though I couldn't didn't know exactly how to ask it.

He said when I was ready, I would just know. He stressed that it's different for everyone, but assured me that if I was sensitive to the Spirit, I would know her when I met her.

I asked Rod how important it was to hold out for the hottest girl possible. He glanced around quickly, like he was preparing to tell a racist joke and wanted to make sure there were no Asians in the room. Then he said, "Listen, Calvin. Molly isn't the hottest girl in the world. In fact, she's only about a 6... but she's amazing. It shouldn't matter how hot your wife is, as long as you know you can be happy with her."

Even though Rod's advice is sound, I haven't been able to get over the fact that he told me his wife was just barely above average (depending on his own personal scale of attractiveness). Then again, if his wife was super hot, his advice wouldn't have been quite as meaningful to me. I'd have just thought, "So you're telling me I should be comfortable marrying an ugly? That's easy for YOU to say." But since his wife isn't hot and he admitted to me that she's not hot... I dunno... it just makes his advice mean a lot more to me.

For the record, when I get married I will never ever... ever tell anyone that I think she is less than a 10. Can you imagine what could happen if Molly ever found out that Rod only thought she was a 6?

I think I'm going to start wearing a button on my shirt that says something like, "Who is Keyser Soze?" or maybe "There can be only one!". If a girl approaches me to tell me how awesome my button is, then I'll just propose to her right there... where ever we are. Wait. First, I'll ask if she's Mormon and if she'll scratch my back during Sacrament Meeting.


Sunday, January 24, 2010

Q & A Interview: Part 2

A couple of months ago, we received an email from an MBP reader and she asked some really good questions. We waited a little while to answer them so it didn't seem like we were so full of ourselves that we assumed everyone wanted to know everything about us. We're really not that interesting in real life. We're just able make ourselves sound that way on this blog.

1. You say Jake and Calvin aren't your real names? How did you pick the names then? Do they start with the same letter as your real names or was there some other special reason?
Calvin: We decided that the best way to keep people guessing would be to choose a name that started with the first letter of our real name... then pick a name that rhymed with the name we chose and then switch names.
Jake: Yeah, then we put them into an excel spreadsheet with the first names of every male character from a FOX sitcom, alphabetized them, and assigned them to a song from my itunes playlist. Then on iTunes we hit the shuffle key. We put numbers into a hat and drew them out. Calvin drew 34 and I drew 122. After shuffling iTunes, song number 34 was "Paint It Black" by Rolling Stones which on our excel spreadsheet coincided with the name "Calvin". Number 122 was "Breathing" by Yellowcard which coincided with "Jake". Thus history was written.
Calvin: (hearty chuckle) If you're gonna make stuff up like that, at least use a song that I like.
Jake: Sorry, dude. I don't have very many Bangles or Spice Girls on my iPod.
Calvin: Touche.

2. Since you are sort of like a couple I want to ask how you guys met - I know, on your mission - but whats the story? Is there a story?
Calvin: Oh, there's definitely a story. We met in Ireland. Jake went on his mission a little late so I was an "older" missionary. I had heard rumors of the infamous Elder Halifax, but I didn't really know much about him until I replaced him in one of our areas.
Jake: Yeah, I had heard about Elder Marler. That he was the funniest elder in the mission. I was nervous for the day we actually met. Then it happened, for a Zone Conference my companion and I had to travel and stay the night in Calvin and his companions flat.
Calvin: I don't think I was the funniest elder. Actually, wait... I take that back. Elder Harrop was funnier than me, but he went home right before you came out... so I guess I was the funniest elder. Anyway, Jake and I hit it off pretty well right away.
Jake: We talked late into the night in the kitchen, it was kind of like heterosexual love at first sight.
Calvin: We both realized that we had a lot of the same types of previous employers and a lot of the same interests. We were both shocked that it had taken so long for us to finally meet.
Jake: The funniest thing was the next day at Zone Conference we were sitting on the back pew of the chapel talking and our mission president walked by. He greeted us, and then did a double take. He stopped and said, "Uh, Elder Halifax,? Elder Marler? You guys know each other?" He seemed a little concerned as we explained our meeting. It was like he didn't want us to ever meet.
Calvin: Dude, I forgot about that. That's true. It was like he had been purposely trying to keep us apart for some reason and seemed simultaneously baffled and concerned that our paths had crossed. Maybe he knew that we both had the potential to be awesome missionaries, as long as we never served within 20 miles of each other.

3. Do you frequently get girls asking you to meet or to reveal your true identities?
Jake: Yes
Calvin: Yes

4. Do you guys talk about your posts or do you just write them and say, "Did you see my new post?"
Jake: Most of the time we will tell each other what we are planning on writing about. Then we write it and it always seems to change a little while we are writing. However we almost always read each others posts before we post them. Calvin definitely reads mine to correct my shotty grammar and spelling.
Calvin: You mean "shoddy"?
Jake: Yeah. Thanks.

5. Calvin, are there some things Jake does that bug the hell out of you?
Yes. There are. The worst one, though, is Jake thinks that he's awesome at multi-tasking, but he really sucks. He's always trying to do other things while he's talking to me on the phone. I'll ask a yes or no question and then I'll sit there silently and wait for Jake to answer me. When he finally answers, I'll say, "What are you doing?" and he'll usually lie and say, "Just sitting here in the dark." (We've had the same discussion often enough that he knows that's the only answer that will satisfy me. He's essentially saying "There are absolutely zero possible distractions in my environment at this exact second.") And I'll ask, "Is the TV on or something cause you seem really distracted?" He'll lie again and say, "No. I'm just sitting here in the dark, dude. Relax." Then I'll start walking up the driveway and I'll see the TV on through the front window. I'll go inside and he'll be sitting there watching the Simpsons on mute or something. Basically, I need Jake's full, undivided attention when I'm with him and I seldom get it. It bugs.

6. Jake, are there some things Calvin does that bug the hell out of you?
Jake: Nope. Calvin is perfect. The only thing that bothers me is that he is not a woman.
Calvin: I knew you were gonna do that. Now I feel all guilty.

7. Have you guys ever fought over the same girl?
Calvin: No. We haven't. We were just talking about this the other day, funny enough. The only thing we have in common when it comes to girls is that we both prefer brunettes and she needs to laugh hysterically at everything we say.
Jake: Dude you always say I prefer brunettes and that isn't true... I have no hair color preference I just seem to end up with brunettes more often.

8. Since starting your blog have you run into fans/followers that you didn't know beforehand in real life?
Jake: Not yet. I'll definitely blog about it when it happens.
Calvin: I don't think so. I do think it's funny when I go to the store or something and I see a hot girl. I'll usually try to smile all awkward like, and she'll give me a courtesy grin and walk swiftly the other direction. I think to myself, "It would be so awesome if she reads my blog. What a hooker. I hope when I write a post about this that she feels like a pile of dog doo when she realizes it was me she scuzzed off."

9. What "big" callings in the Church have your Mom's and Dad's had? Currently and when you were growing up?
Jake: When we lived in Seattle my Dad was in the Bishopric and my Mom was Relief Society President. Right now my Dad is the Scoutmaster and my Mom does Stake activities or something.
Calvin: My dad was in the Young Men's presidency when I was in the Young Men's program. It really kinda sucked cause he made me go on the camp outs and stuff.

10. How nervous are you, or how important do you think it is that your blog remain anonymous?
Calvin: Our anonymity is kinda like Santa. He'll bring you presents if you believe in him... and he may still bring you presents if you ever stop believing him, but the presents are always a little bit cooler when you think Santa came in your house while you were sleeping.
Jake: Calvin is far more nervous than I am about us getting "caught". It is pretty much the only thing that we seriously argue about lately. I think that bloggers think that everyone reads blogs, but everyone does not read blogs. In fact, way more people don't read blogs than do. I really doubt our measly 400 or so followers comprise a large enough pool for us to be concerned about getting caught. That said, I think that our anonymity is paramount. Without it I don't think the blog could exist.
Calvin: I'm definitely the more cautious of the two of us. Jake is pretty fearless when it comes to our blog. It's like that story about the cliff's edge and the guys talking about how close they can get without falling off. That's Jake. I'm the guy who says, "I stay as far away from edge as possible."
Jake: No. You're the guy who refuses to apply for the job because you heard a rumor that there was a section of road that might be dangerous.
Calvin: (laughing) Whatever, dude.

11. Are you the kind of "best friends" that have everything in common?
Jake: Ha ha, we have so few things in common it's amazing that we can talk for hours and hours and hours.
Calvin: When we were on our mission, I was shocked with how similar we were, but since we've been home it's become much more apparent that we are nothing alike.

12. Do your roommates know about this blog?
Calvin: No.
Jake: They don't even know that it exists. It's not even that they have heard of the Mormon Bachelor Pad and don't know that we write it. They don't even know that MBP exists.

a) If so, how can you trust them to keep it quiet? You can be pretty hard on them, what do they think about that?

Jake: So do I need to answer this one?

Calvin: No, dude. You only answer it if the answer to the previous question is "yes".

Jake: Yeah, I can see that. But why even put it on this post if we are not supposed to answer it?

Calvin: Don't you think it would be confusing if we just skipped to "b)".

Jake: We could just change "b)" to "a)" so people didn't wonder where "a)" went.

Calvin: But if there's no "c)" and we're skipping "a)" can't we just leave out the whole lettering system?

Jake: Yeah. Let's do that.

b) If not, how do you keep it from them? Are you worried they'll figure it out?
Jake: We don't have to do anything, like most men, they don't care about blogs. No, I am not worried.
Calvin: Our roommates are morons. It's really not that hard. I guess the biggest worry is that a girl will get suspicious and plant a seed in their head or something. But, again, the soil isn't all that fertile so the seed would probably shrivel up and die within about 20 minutes.

13. Do you prefer blondes or brunettes? If you made a list which have you dated more of?
Jake: As stated above I do not have a preference. However, every girl I have had a significant crush or relationship with was a brunette. Except Sanders, her hair is light brown or dark blonde.
Calvin: I think that means you prefer brunettes, dude. Whether you're scared to acknowledge it or not.
Jake: Ok, Calvin. I'm scared to admit I prefer brunettes. You're right. Geez.

14. So far you have dated mostly younger, fresh out of High School girls (which is fine, I was dating RMs as old as 25 right out of High School) do you shy away from or avoid older women? What would you say your age cap is?
Jake: I picked this girl up I was set up with right after my mission. She was 18. Her mom was 36... my date was okay, but her mom was smokin! I really want to go out with her mom, she is single... but I worry she wouldn't ever take me seriously. Too bad.
Calvin: I don't think I look old enough to date anyone older than 25, even though I secretly wish I could date an older woman. My age cap, though, is 16. Definitely no younger than 16.
Jake: I think she was asking about the upper cap, Calvin.
Calvin: Really? Oh. Um... I don't have one of those.


Jake and Calvin

BBL Interview
Q & A Part 1

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

No Sunlight in the Basement

Today, I was contemplating taking a shower because I itched. Where I itched isn't important, but since I'm not in school and have another week until my new job starts, I've decided to optimize my time by letting some of the more menial activities in my life fall by the wayside. These include, but are not limited to, sleep, shower, shave, change clothes, eat (anything that takes longer than 1 minute to prepare), clean, put dishes anywhere but where I can throw them... etc.

I'm not exactly sure of the time either since the one tiny window in the basement leads underneath the porch, so 4am is the same as 12 noon. It's awesome. I have a pretty sweet set up on the sofa downstairs where I have a blanket and pillow, the remotes, xbox and wii controllers, and a stool that I can use to put my soda or Ramen broth on. I haven't left this spot for about 50 hours. Except to go to the bathroom, which, if I lean back during #1, or forward during #2, with the door open I can still see the TV and thanks to the marvels of the modern wireless controllers while gaming I can play most video games while on the john, too. So nothing, whether it be a movie, TV series, or game is missed. Vegging out for extended periods of time is rad. Seriously, if you ever have the opportunity, I suggest you grab a hold of it. It is so choice.

So, due to the itch, I started upstairs and got distracted by the computer. I knew Calvin had put up a post, but hadn't read it or it's comments. Ha ha ha ha, my best friend is seriously so funny. You, our readers are so funny too (sigh) it feels good to ride on Cal's coattails. However I feel obligated to point out that, as in so many things, I am completely opposite of Calvin on the whole arm hair thing. It actually bugs me when girls shave their arms. I don't care what color it is (perhaps that's why I find Eastern Indian women so attractive) so bring on Armageddon folks... I'm already good at not bathing, and look forward to that arm hair growing in.

While on the computer I remembered that Calvin had suggested that perhaps while I was home all day I could sort out our T-shirts. So I did. Here you go folks. The MBP t-shirts, first edition are available for purchase... you luckies.


PS I am still seeing Sanders, but she does live in Cedar City, and now, for her, school is back in full force. So we haven't seen each other since my last post. We have spoken on the phone a few times, but she is currently a teeny bit mad at me because the last three times she called I was playing a video game, and even though I was talking to her with my handsfree headset, I don't stop playing (even though I could pause it, it always seems to be at a profoundly pivotal part of the game) because I can still have a coherent conversation with her. She just gets bugged that there is a little more delay in my responses. Well, sorry that 88% of my attention isn't good enough for you! (coincidentally Calvin has the same problem, but not because he and Sanders are of the same gender.) Also... it could be because the gaming/movie/lazy/unshowered set up I have is so sweet, but I don't miss Lisa like I used to...

PPS I still haven't showered since I stumbled up here three hours ago. I am going to... but the guys want to play Modern Warfare, and I need to be the forth, so it'll have to wait.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

My Baby Gazelle

I'm pretty sure I'm done with Marie. Surprisingly, my run-in with her dad last weekend wasn't a deal breaker. I actually found myself a little more into her after that. It was probably the whole "challenge" thing again. In the beginning of our relationship I was like a cheetah and I was chasing Marie, who is like a little baby gazelle. We ran around in circles for a while. She was pretty fast, but she was young and inexperienced in the art of evasion. I got closer and closer to going in for "the kill", but before I made my move, I swatted her butt around a few times trying to knock her off balance. Marie, the baby gazelle, knew she was caught, but didn't give up. Even though she was getting swatted around, she still tried her best to get away. But then I got bored and finally just put my left paw across her body and pinned her to the ground.

Trying to catch my breath after the long chase, I would periodically look down and admire my earned morsel, panting. While catching my breath and reveling in my sense of accomplishment, my attention was continually drawn to larger, faster, and more tasty prey. Sure, I had my meal under my paw... but I couldn't help but look at the smorgasbord of choices right in front of me.

That's where I was last weekend when I went to Marie's house to pick her up for our date. I was just about ready to be done with her. Then her dad came out and confronted me. Suddenly, the baby gazelle had wriggled free from my grasp while I was distracted and the chase was on again. That's the only way I can explain my continued interest.

Last night, though, I decided I was really, truly done. It was the light switch again. Marie dropped by for our FHE gathering and I hated it. I was having fun until she showed up, but when she walked in the door, I got this pit in my stomach. I wasn't expecting her... so before she arrived I had been flirting it up as best I could while at my Home Base. Then, in she walked, straight to me. She hugged me and tried to kiss me, but there were too many other girls around I didn't want to put off. I could tell it offended her. She gave me this look when I turned my head away from her kiss. I'm sure she saw me looking around at all the girls, checking to make sure none of them were watching.

It was like that time I turned 17 and drove straight to Blockbuster video and rented Wild Things. I sneaked it into my house and my friend and I started watching it in my basement. It was awesomer than I ever could have dreamed. Then my mom wandered downstairs to see if her quilt was on the couch. The feeling in the pit of my stomach while my mom looked around was horrible. I knew she wasn't paying too much attention to what I was watching... cause she trusted me. If I paused the movie or stopped it would seem too suspicious, so I just let it go and prayed they wouldn't say the "f" word or talk about private parts while she was in earshot. That's the same feeling I had when Marie walked in.

After FHE ended, Marie and I started making out, as usual. Her lips are too soft, I decided. I have no idea why I haven't noticed it before. Way too soft. It was like kissing a spoonful of butter, or maybe pancake batter. No... butter. Like kissing butter except without the greasiness that doesn't rinse off.

Then as I was getting ready to walk her out to her car I noticed she has peach-fuzzy sideburns and dark arm hair. There was a time in the not so distant past when I was repulsed at the thought of girls shaving their arms. But after seeing Marie's arm hair, I've decided that 'shaved girl arms' is better. When I say "better", I think that means I'm okay with it. As long as I know about it. The last thing I want is to marry an arm-hairless girl under false pretenses. Because when Armageddon happens and we delve into our year-supply, the last thing I want is to, all of a sudden, see thick, brown whiskers sprouting up all over my wife's arms. I mean, I already have to deal with grinding my wheat, boiling my water, shooting looters, and rationing my saltines and Bullseye BBQ sauce. It would be a real kick in the cluster to have an arm-hair bombshell dropped on me at that point.


ps If I marry you without knowing you shave your arms, make sure you fill your 72-hour-kit with Gillette Venus razors, mmkay?

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Good Example

I'm still kind of dating Marie. I wouldn't go so far as to say she's a "booty call", but it seems like most of our interactions result in horizontal-ness. We usually start our outings innocently enough. We go to dinner or to Fat Cat's or something. Sometimes we go bowling. But we both know that the last 4 to 6 hours of every date will be spent making out.

When I went to her house to pick her up last night, I pulled into her driveway and started to get out of my truck to go to the door. (I had still never met her parents or been inside her house. She'll usually choose to meet me somewhere or I'll pick her up at her rich friends house. I've thought it was odd that she appeared to be trying to keep me away from her family. I thought maybe she lived in a polygamous family or something and she didn't want me to find out. I don't know.) So as I'm getting out of my truck, I see her front door open and Marie comes outside. She appears to be walking rather swiftly. I stood near my open door half expecting her to throw her arms (and hopefully legs) around me as usual, but she didn't. She smiled sweetly and walked around to the passenger side of my truck. She climbed in quickly and then said, "Let's go" before I had time to climb back in and close my door.

As I started to pull the door of my truck closed, I heard the front door open again. I saw the look on Marie's face before I even turned around. It was a look of anger, frustration, and embarrassment. I turned around and saw an older gentleman who I could only assume was Marie's father. He approached my side of the truck and said, "Calvin?" He knew my name. "Hello, sir." I replied. (I'm not making this up or exaggerating in the least... Scout's Honor). I extended my hand and he did not hesitate to reach out and shake it. "You've been seeing my daughter quite a bit lately and I haven't had a chance to meet you." I smiled and laughed nervously. I thought briefly about trying to come up with some reason why... but then I figured that was between him and Marie. If she didn't want him to meet me, well then, I guess that's their problem, isn't it?

I looked back toward Marie. She was staring straight out the front windshield and slightly upward. It almost looked like she was trying to figure out who had mounted the basketball hoop over their garage. She was completely ignoring this awkward confrontation. I then realized that the reason she was in such a hurry to leave her house was because she knew her dad was on the warpath. Her dad continued, "What do you have planned for tonight, Calvin?"

The first thought that entered my head was, "I don't like Marie enough to participate in this hellish question and answer session with her dad." If I could have traded that awkwardness for never seeing Marie again, I'd have traded for sure. Screw Marie. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option. All of my horizontal make-outs, including but not limited to appendage caressing, spooning, collarbone tickling, heavy breathing, and lip and tongue sucking, had led me to this moment.

I started to answer with the dinner-and-movie textbook reply, but he cut me off, forcing me to draw the conclusion that he either didn't care about my answer or he didn't believe my answer. "I'd like her home by 12:30, Calvin." I was surprised I even heard what he said cause he was talking over me. "No problem, sir." In fact, how about if I have her home 45 seconds ago, HEY MARIE, GET OUT OF MY TRUCK!

He stood there as I got in my truck and started to back out of her driveway. When I got to the end of the driveway, I noticed a string of four cars coming preventing me from getting the hell out of there. As I sat there and waited for an opening, Marie started to apologize, but I wasn't listening to her because her dad was still standing in the exact same spot watching me. I was uncomfortable and anxious, but deep down I was hoping that I could be that kind of father when I have my own kids. I want to be able to make douchebags like me feel like a pile of dog doo from a very simple, two minute conversation.

Marie and I made out until about two in the morning. I dropped her off around the corner from her house, per her request.


Thursday, January 14, 2010

The History of Jake: part 1 of 6

I don't have a good long-term memory. Pretty much, under the age of ten I have almost no memories other than a few image flashes. What experiences I do remember that young I can count on one hand.

I've wondered if this had something to do with perhaps an early experience so traumatic, so horrible, that like Dexter, I have blocked it all out. I doubt it though, I'm sure most of my memory has been destroyed because I have hit my head, hard, many times doing stupid things like jumping off the garage and falling out of a sled dragged behind a pickup.

So at around age ten or eleven my memories start to fade into view. The age of twelve is when things get clear and I can still remember details. I'll have to see if that benchmark changes to age thirteen next year... hmmm. Anyway, on to my history.

I am not a very good person by nature. In fact I am certain, (and trust me, I know how terrible this sounds) if I did not have a testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, I would be in prison, dead, or doing something, "I-just-threw-up-a-little-in-my-mouth-just-now" worthy like what Jennifer Connelly's character in "Requiem for a Dream" stoops to. Seriously, and I am not ragging on myself here, nor am I seeking pity or a fix. Hopefully when I share this, you can treat it like a good flashback from an episode of LOST.

"What? Sayid tortured people? Oh I like Sayid, he's got depth. Charlie a crack addict? Good thing, he's a stronger person for it. Kate murdered like 4 people, and don't even get me started on Mr. Ecko? Oh how far they have all come (phew) yay ...and now I see how those experiences helped them to traverse this mysterious time traveling, dead raising, polar bear harboring island."

Growing up I was a bully. Not "sort of a bully", either. I was a very mean, very cruel, die a thousand deaths and rot forever in hell bully. When I was in middle school I was one of the shortest kids in my class, but I easily had the biggest mouth. At a young age I was able to easily manipulate others into doing my bidding and I walked around school with bigger, dumber kids carrying out my every whim which translated into all manner of treachery.

I will not share all of the horrible things I had done, or all the peoples lives I destroyed as a bully, because they are numerous, and maybe, just maybe, if I don't bring them up, God will forget some of them and not send me to that special spot in Outer Darkness for savages like me. Nor will I elaborate on reasons I should be forgiven or how many tears I have shed and times I have prayed for forgiveness. The stories are awful, and the atonement will have to be at full strength to deal with my actions. I worry that I cannot be forgiven, but try to have faith in spite of that. I only share these with people I am very close to, but my anonymity offers me a unique opportunity, so, I will share a couple tidbits from my 7th and 8th grade years.

Jeremiah Smith:
I can't remember exactly what I didn't like about him. He had thick far-sighted glasses, so his eyes always looked huge, and he was the only kid as good at dodgeball as I was, too. We were in gym class together. My bullying of him started with me flushing the toilets while he was in the shower and then running out yelling "Fire in the Hole!" To which he would get burnt and scream running out to the rest of the class pointing and laughing.

One day me and two bigger kids cornered him in the soccer field before school. I don't remember what I was saying, but it was mean. I ordered my thugs to take off his pants. They did so, and we threw them over the fence. A barbed wire fence that, to get to the other side of, required walking a good 300 yards behind about a dozen classroom windows. His underpants were tighty-whiteys, but not the plain white regular Fruit of the Loom type I was used to sporting. Nope, his had little cartoon rockets on them. Perhaps the worst pair of underpants this kid could have worn the day some bullies decided to take off his pants. I pointed out the rockets and made fun of him. I started calling him Rockets.

He sat there on the ground crying and staring at me with his swollen eyes like he wanted to kill me. I hadn't even touched him but we both knew that I was the problem. I wish I could remember how I felt at that moment. From that day forward nobody called Jeremiah "Jeremiah" anymore. They called him "Rockets". I found out later that he had carried that nickname all the way through high school. I'm sure one day I will run into him and he will beat me up for it. That's okay though, I deserve it.

Megan Quinonez:
Megan was an odd girl. She was white but had a funny, not-white last name, which made it easier to mock her as a kid. She wore funny clothes too, like feather scarves and glittery sweaters. She was already pretty outcast in our class, but of course the coward I was, I made it worse. Whenever she would walk by I would get everyone to start chanting "thunder" we would start quietly, and then with each each occurrence of the word "thunder" get a little louder, until as she walked by we would yell "thighs." After instigating this for a while, I would be way down the hall and hear off in the distance, "thunder, thunder, thuNDER, THUNDER, THIIIIGHS!"

What's really bad about this is that Megan wasn't even fat... at all. I'm sure that at the Judgment Seat however I'll have to beg Jesus to forgive me for causing her years of self esteem problems. I made it worse by convincing my friends that Megan was so ugly, that we should call all ugly girls "Megan." She wasn't ugly, but she was an easy target. From then on her name embodied all that was ugly. "Dude, do you like Cathy Miller?" "No." "Good, because she is soo, Megan." "Oooohggg (said with a shiver) she is Megan, you're right dude." We would enunciate it in the worst possible way too, (Me-GaN) to try and emphasize how disgusted we were.

Doug Bird:
Doug was skinny, tall, lanky, and awkward in every way. At 13 he had a deep yet nasally voice that just screamed, 'make fun of me.' So I did. Incessantly. Doug wouldn't just run, though. He periodically would attempt to stand up to me, or make fun of me back. He was like George Costanza with his insults, though, and I was a witty little bastard. I also always had two or three of my grades biggest guys with me so there wasn't much he could do when we splashed chocolate milk on him or pushed him into the lockers when we walked by.

One day, the halls were pretty empty for some reason. I had watched Doug very carefully put a miniature building he had made out of toothpicks and glue in his back pack. I told the big guys to get it. They tried taking his backpack off of him, there was a tussle and he got away, and ran. A chase ensued. I was the fastest kid of the four, and caught up to Doug as he reached the hallway doors to go outside. He took a step back to pull the door open and I collided into him. I could feel the tooth picks crumble under my weight. I grabbed the top of his backpack and yelled, "Give me the backpack, Birdo!" He screamed no, and kept running. The zipper on his backpack tore and tooth picks and papers went everywhere.

My enforcers were too far behind us to help and in the moment that I realized he was going to get away something happened. I got angry. Really angry. I clenched my fists, yelled, "Dammit Doug!" and punched him right in the middle of his back as hard as I possibly could. It was the first time I had ever punched anyone. Before that I was always able to get someone else to do my dirty work. Doug fell forward out of the door, and then fell down the four cement stairs outside. He ran off.

Doug, broke his pinky finger in that fall. Which of course he had to bring to the attention of his parents. Who brought it to the attention of my principle. I was expelled from school less than a week later. I'm so glad that happened. Because I didn't have big friends in my next school and the Lord, or Karma, or whatever you believe in, heaped a whole bunch of humble pie on me (that I will expound on in Part 5 of my history later) that lead me to change from the person I was.

I bring these up, because if I didn't relay these stories I don't think you would believe me when I say that I am a bad person by nature. Given any choice, it seems that I am always inclined to make the wrong one. My first instinct, even at a young age, is almost always the easy way out, or the self-serving-screw-everyone-else route. Sometime around the age of 18 I actually gained my testimony. Or at least I started. I've been lucky to have very good parents who have always been capable in handling me in the best way for what ever trouble I was in. My testimony grew as I practiced, and then while on my mission, I was blessed with several, but one very profound experience which changed my life forever.

Still, if I am being honest I am always first inclined towards evil. I constantly fight thoughts of, 'How I can lie, cheat, and steal to get ahead?' 'How will I best be served?' 'It feels good, I can do it, because I deserve it?' I do not propose that all guys are like me. That all Mormons are like me, or that all Mormon guys are like me. This is me. I can see very clearly the influence that my testimony of Jesus has in my life. More specifically how that has impacted my weaknesses of which I am very aware.

For example. Lisa came by last night... she's here till after the weekend, which is longer than her usual stay. I think she is hoping to patch the hole I left on our last encounter. She explained to me how devastated she was by my confession. We will see how this shakes out... anyway, we hung out last night, and ended up at Calvin's parents house watching a movie. Afterwards, Calvin and his date went upstairs to talk to his parents. Lisa and I started making out.

We moved from the couch to the floor, and I was on top of her... kissing her. I find that when I am on top she is less likely to initiate dry humping. During our make out, right there in Calvin's basement she reached her hand down the front of my pants.

[The thoughts described in this, and the following paragraph spanned less than a second of real time.] This is the first time that a member of the opposite sex has touched me there, skin to skin. It was shocking and exciting... and I wanted so badly to act on what I was feeling. However, I instantly thought about the Sermon on the Mount. No particular teaching from it, just it. I knew that what I wanted to do was wrong. I thought about justifying it. Lisa had been married. She had had sex. Surely it must have been difficult for her to restrain, more so than for me. I doubted in that instant that I would be excommunicated if I gave in, that one time.

Thirteen year old Jake-the-bully was screaming at me, egging me on. The world wouldn't end if I gave in, the Church would still be true, my mom would still love me... I probably wouldn't have even felt guilty, and told myself I could easily justify it even being wrong. There are millions of people who engage in pre-marital sex! Many of which repent and accept the Gospel and get temple recommends and stuff. Why should I be any different? Why should I miss out on sex? Sex that other people who will probably still make it to the Celestial Kingdom are having and repenting of? I liked my argument. However, my Savior has asked me not to. So despite my first horny inclination, I simply focused on how much I knew Jesus Christ loved me. I knew it enough so, that I couldn't in good conscience do that with Lisa no matter how badly I wanted to.

I tried to act unaffected by her touch, even though, in retrospect a shocked "How dare you!" might have been a more appropriate response. I didn't even stop kissing her. I just firmly grabbed her arm and pulled it out of my pants. She grinned and said, "Sorry." I smiled and kept kissing her. After a few minutes she whispered, "Thank you." I replied, "Don't get me wrong, I so totally want to have sex with you."

We kissed for a bit longer. Then she paused and said, "I hope you want more from me than to just have sex." She looked at me and the longer that I didn't say anything the more concerned her face got. "Of course." I finally said. The mood was killed... dead. We stopped kissing and joined Calvin and co upstairs.

If I didn't have faith in Christ I would have no scruples, I would have no morals, and I would only care about myself. I envy the day when I would do the right thing simply because it was the "right thing". I am not implying that one needs faith to be a good person. I know many people who don't even believe there is a God who are good and decent people, honest and upright in all that they do. I am simply admitting that that is not how it is for me, unfortunately. I know, if I hadn't been blessed with the Gospel of Jesus Christ in my life that I would be in a very bad place. I would have definitely had sex or something close to it with Sanders last night.

Thank you Heavenly Father. Thank you for giving me something tangible to counteract my unrighteous first impulse, my testimony.


PS I was able to track down Doug Bird just before the mish and apologize to him. I told him he could punch me in the face, but he opted to just kick me in the shin. He kicked me really hard. We are now Facebook friends... I have never been able to find the other two.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

History of Calvin: Part 2 of 70

We all have experiences that help to shape us. I think most of the time, we don't remember the more influential experiences. However, I've been blessed with a good memory and attention to detail. It's unfortunate that these things don't transfer very well into my school or employment. It kinda blows, actually.

We moved to Utah when I was five years old. I remember standing at the door to my kindergarten class with my mom as Mrs. Milner introduced me to the other five-year-olds. I distinctly remember being embarrassed and shy. I hung my head as I went to my desk. I also remember one of my five-year-old peers had a cast on her leg. It looked like most of the other students had already signed it. The fact that I hadn't been there to sign her cast two days earlier made me immediately feel like an outsider... and it was only my first day.

I don't remember specifically making friends, but one memory of my first week of school stands out to me. Mrs. Milner had all of the students sit in a circle, Indian Style (totally not politically correct nowadays) as she read a story to us. Before she started the story, I remember she pulled out a huge bag of regular M&M's. The whole class got pretty excited. As she opened the bag, she said, "I'm going to give each of you 10 M&M's and I don't want you to eat them, okay? Did everyone hear me? Do not eat these M&M's until I say it's ok." We all expressed our excited understanding. Mrs Milner gave each of her 25 students 10 M&M's. I remember there were students in front of me and behind me. Luckily, I had enough room to place my M&M's on the ground in front of me, careful to put enough space between my candy and the five-year-old butt sitting in front of me.

Mrs Milner started explaining what was about ready to take place, but I was still staring at my M&M's. I counted them about 50 times... just to make sure I really had 10 of them. Mrs. Milner started reading a story to us about a little boy and his pet cow or something. After she finished the first page she stopped reading. I looked up at her and then around at my fellow students trying to figure out what was going on. After three seconds, I realized that I had inadvertently looked away from my candy and I quickly looked back down at them to make sure they were all still there. Luckily, while she was reading, I had grouped them up into colors so it was easier to account for all 10.

Then Mrs. Milner spoke. She said, "Who can tell me what the little boys name was?" A boy with greasy hair raised his hand and said, "Joey." Mrs. Milner said, "That's right" and then handed him an eleventh M&M. Up until that point, I had no idea that we would be rewarded for correct answers. I was ecstatic. I hadn't been listening, but I figured it didn't really matter. Mrs. Milner said, "What color was Joey's cow?" I raised my hand. I had no idea what the answer was, but I'd seen plenty of photos of cows. She called on me. I was so excited. "Black and white." She replied, "Nope. Sorry. It was brown. Give me one of your M&M's."

I'm sure my first reaction was confusion. That didn't dissuade Mrs. Milner. She held out her hand, waiting for me to give her one of my M&M's. I had no idea that a wrong answer meant I had to give up one of my M&M's. I hadn't listened to the instructions for this stupid activity. I looked down at my M&M groupings and thought about which color I was willing to give up. Mrs Milner didn't like the fact that I was stalling. She asked me, again, to give her an M&M. I wanted to cry. Not figuratively. I literally felt my bottom lip starting to quiver as I picked up a brown M&M (I had more of those than the other colors) and handed it to her. She continued to read the book.

I listened to her retarded story as she continued to read. She asked easy questions and kids kept answering and getting more and more M&M's. But I didn't raise my hand again. I looked down at my nine M&M's and decided that even if I KNEW the answer, I wasn't going to risk losing another M&M. I was guaranteed nine M&M's. I knew those were mine. I knew it. So why would I take a chance and risk losing another M&M? No way.

Even though I remember all of those details, I don't remember eating my M&M's. I just remember my overwhelming sadness at losing one of them. I'm not sure what lesson I took away from that experience, but I'm positive it wasn't the intended lesson.

How does this experience translate into my attitude toward girls, relationships, my testimony, furthering my education, and magnifying my calling?

I have no idea, but when I figure it out, I'm totally gonna use this experience (and its related spiritual analogy) in my next sacrament meeting talk.


Sunday, January 10, 2010

I Know the Cheese is True

Ever since my half-assed New Years Eve confession of love to Lisa, it has been eating at me, making my 2010 way more dramatic than I am comfortable with. I had fasted last Sunday about Lisa and have asked God every day to guide me.

On Thursday, I got a picture text from Lisa with a ring on it. She followed it up with a little, "I love making you nervous. ;)" text disclaimer. I saw right through that though and figured I needed to talk to her and tell her how I was feeling.

So I drove down to Cedar City Friday afternoon. My car broke down this week, so I borrowed the "kids car" from my parents. This made for an interesting trip because my sister went down to Snow College a couple weeks ago and left her iPod at home. My Mom said I could take the car as long as I dropped off the iPod in Ephraim.

I have been getting a little bored of my music lately so I perused my sisters iPod hoping to find something interesting. After seeing a butt-load of hip-hop, Jonas Brothers, High School Musical, and Glee selections I was about to switch back to my stuff when I noticed a playlist called, "xoLUVxo".

The playlist had 803 songs in it. An eclectic collection of songs from all genre's and decades that I had to give my sister credit for painstakingly creating. I grinned a little as I clicked "shuffle" and just let it roll. Thinking that perhaps, while I mentally prepared for what would, no doubt, be a difficult conversation with Lisa about love, that this playlist would be just what the doctor ordered.

I was right, and even though I skipped probably 3 out of every 5 songs, it was a welcome departure from my usual music habits. I was enjoying it so much in fact, that instead of going to Ephraim first, as planned, I decided I would stop by my sisters on my way home.

I've attached a few selections (they are pretty stinking cheesy) so I highlighted them in blue so you can scroll past them a little easier if you want to.

"I never knew I loved her, 'till the day she laid her eyes on me. Now I'm jumpin' up and down, she's the only one around, and she means every little thing to me."

"Something happened for the very first time with you. My heart melts into the ground. Found something true and everyone’s looking round thinking I’m going crazy."

"Oh I'm beginning to think that man has never found, the words that could make you want me, that have the right amount of letters, just the right sound. That could make you hear, make you see, that you are drivin' me out of my mind."

"What kind of man would I be? Living a life without any meaning, and I know you could surely survive without me, but if I have to live without you..."

"Cause I was born to tell you I love you and I am torn to do what I have to, to make you mine. Stay with me tonight."

"Baby there's nothing in this world that could ever do, what the touch of your hand can do. It's like nothing that I ever knew."

"I don't know how you do what you do, I’m so in love with you. It just keeps getting better. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you by my side, for ever and ever."

"Cause you're my, you're my, my true love, my whole heart."

As I absorbed all the cheese that is the pop love song. I thought that if these songs exist, that people must feel this way in real life. I hear a lot that "love" is a fantasy. Or, that it's foolish to seek after "Hollywood love". That that's not what love is like in real life. That I am too young to understand real love and that I'm filled with starry-eyed fantasies. Perhaps I am too young and unacquainted with life's many lessons, to know better, but I just don't believe any of that.

I imagined the guys who wrote "The Flame" were exchanging high-fives when they found out Cheap Trick was going to sing their song. A song that was written about something real, something that was felt or experienced by them. A song, about love.

I pulled up to Lisa's apartment and sat in the parking lot for a while. On the drive down, I had recited several lyrics into my dictaphone-app on my iPhone. I sat there and read through them. I discovered, very sadly, that I could not apply the words to any of those songs to the way I felt about Lisa.

I felt that there were a few that I could apply to the way I had felt about Andrea.

I said a prayer. I asked Heavenly Father to help me to communicate to Lisa how I felt in a way that would be the best for both of us.

Normally, I would write a detailed recounting of our conversation, but I am just too tired... (just got back and need to get some sleep, hopefully Calvin will proofread it right BEFORE he wakes me up for church), so I will shorten things a bit.

LISA: Hey.
JAKE: Hey.
LISA: Blah blah blah.
JAKE: Blah blah blah.
LISA: Ha ha ha, love. Marriage. Ring. Ha ha.
JAKE: Um, yeah about that.
JAKE: Hasty. Unfamiliar. Confused.
LISA: (furrow, frown) More?
JAKE: I love you = rationalization. Was reckless. Sorry. Struggle. Prayer and fasting.
LISA: Thanks for honesty. Sad. Very sad. Not taking back I love you.
JAKE: Not done. Want to keep pursuing relationship. Adore you.
LISA: College till August. Lots of time. No rush. Sad. Feel foolish.
JAKE: Sorry. Big jerk.
LISA: Young. Silly boy. Silly cougar. Should have known.
JAKE: Movie?
LISA: (Smile)Yes.

We spent the weekend together. It was good. Lisa took the news very well, and we didn't talk once about marriage after that. It was different though. I know as mature as she was acting... that she was hurt. Our goodbye was a little awkward because she joked she may never see me again. I wondered when she said, "Just kidding. I love making you nervous." if she meant it.

We decided we are going to act as though New Years Eve never happened and continue our courtship. I'm pretty sure we both know that isn't possible, but it smoothed over the situation for now.


Thursday, January 7, 2010

Sloppy Seconds

I haven't seen much of Aaron the last few days and I recently discovered why. Last night, pretty late, we were all hanging out in our basement. Aaron came walking in and Lance started making fun of his black leather coat... since it is kinda gay. We were all laughing and joking with Aaron, like we usually do. Then I said, "So how was your make-out with Tori?" I said it jokingly, but you know that saying about things said in jest... and underlying truth... or something? I have been kind of curious what his train of thought was before, during and after his New Year's snog with the girl I had been dating. Then Aaron says, "Which time?" Everyone started laughing like they understood a joke that I was missing. I was, like, "Which time? You mean the snog at midnight or for the few hours following?" Then Aaron smiled and said, "No. I mean 'which time'... like New Years or Saturday or Sunday or Monday afternoon?" Apparently Aaron had been so scarce because he'd been rolling around with Tori for a few days.

I said, "Monday afternoon? Didn't she fly out on Monday night?" He was still smiling. I said, "Dude. You made out with her all weekend?" He nodded his head and we all were laughing together about what a slut she is. I was a little offended, though. Just a bit. I think I expected her to mourn my loss for a little longer than she did.

We all start talking about different things for a while, and then Aaron says, out of nowhere, "Tori said I was a better kisser than you." We all looked at him. I said, "Oh really? She just volunteered that nugget or did you ask her?" He smiled, "I asked her."

Ok. Now... I know we're guys and we don't normally get involved in this sort of chick drama (and I already have a reputation for being a little more "girly" and man-sitive), but it wasn't just me who had a problem with this. First of all, we have a Mantra and this was clearly a violation on several levels. First, you don't ask a girl if you're a better kisser than your roommate. Second, if you DO ask her... you don't ever tell anyone you asked. Ever. Third, Aaron is gay and stupid. Fourth, Aaron got my sloppy seconds. Fifth and lastly, no girl is going to say in the middle of a horizontal make out session, "Actually, your roommate is a little better." Of course she's going to tell you that you're better. It's the polite thing to do.

But wait. It gets better. Jake asks, "So what did you ask exactly and what did she answer... exactly?" Aaron had this huge feces-eatin'-grin on his face. "I said, 'So who's a better kisser... me or Calvin?' and she said, 'Well, Calvin's technique is better, but you're definitely more passionate.'"

We all exchanged glances... kinda like we were stalling a little to see if Aaron had anything else to add. (The following statements took place almost simultaneously)

Nick: "That's it? That's all she said?"
Jake: "What makes you think that means you're the better kisser?"
Lance: "Um, she only used the word 'better' once and it was about Calvin."

I tried to keep my mouth shut... even though I was thinking the same thing as my roomies. Aaron started getting defensive and said, "Well, it was more the way she said it. It was obvious she was more excited about the way I was kissing her." I chimed in. "Excited? You mean you asked her who was the better kisser while you were in the middle of your make out session? Like, you pulled your tongue out of her mouth and asked, 'Who's better?' Geez, Aaron."

Lance summed it up pretty well, though, in between the fits of mocking laughter. He said, "It sounds to me like Tori was saying, 'Calvin knows what he's doing, but you're just a desperate, virginous, horn-dog who likes to slobber all over my face.'" Aaron got off the couch and went upstairs. It was pretty awesome. Ironically, I think I fit all of those derogatory descriptions that Lance spouted. I'm a little bit desperate. I'm a virgin. I'm definitely a horn-dog. And I enjoy a moderate amount of make-out slobber. I think the around-the-mouth moisture helps to cool me off when things get a little heated. It's kinda like facial sweat... for the vigorously horizontal.


Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Jake Whines

I am getting a little bored with the blog. (gasp) Bored isn't even the right word for it, but I am definitely having a harder time posting. I am going to pretend like you care, even though if someone wrote this post that wasn't me I would tell them. "Fine, if you don't want to write it... then don't, you big baby."

My best friend and I's last 20 conversations have chiefly been about this blog. Aside from the occasional marriage discussion, it has overwhelmed our friendship.

When Calvin proposed the idea, it sounded great. I mean I love to entertain others, that definitely makes me happier than most anything else. This blog has given me the opportunity to do that, but I am finding it to be more of a chore, lately.

I know, I know, what do I have better to do? Seeing as I don't have a job and I'm currently not attending school. Maybe I don't have anything better to do, but there are plenty of things I would rather do... even things as menial as sitting around watching the cooking channel with average looking chicks and talking about that big fat Hawaiian guy who sings that "over the rainbow/wonderful world" song. Yeah. I would rather do that than write my blog posts.

It's not that I don't have plenty of things to write about. In fact, more often than not there are topics and stories that get left behind simply because we would have to post daily to tell them all.

I could write about how I am having second thoughts about my talk with Sanders when I told her that I loved her. How based off of, (and I am quoting myself here) "if I don’t even know what [love] is then how can I not mean it? I decided that because my feelings for her are as strong as I have ever had for a girl, that until I had a feelings stronger or more powerful to replace it, that this must be love." What is that? That's bull crap is what it is. I recklessly told her I loved her and will no doubt suffer for it. I can just imagine Sanders reading that and saying, "Oh gee, thanks, Jake."

I could possibly write a trilogy of posts about why I think that all of you who think that I need to "get my crap together" before entertaining marriage to another person are jaded, glass is half empty, nervous twits. At what point exactly would my "crap" be together? Do I have to have a degree of some kind? Perhaps I shouldn't get married until I finish school. Or better yet, until my student loans are paid off and I have a 20% down payment for a house... actually, if, as many allude I need to be "ready" to support a family before I propose, then the smartest thing to do would be to wait until I claim at least 6 figures on my 1040. Yeah, then I'll be ready. Then you'll want your sister to date me. Fact is, the "crap" in life is easier to achieve than people let on. How hard is it to make money? How hard is it to keep a job? Just because I haven't done it doesn't mean I can't. I think once motivated by a family and loving someone more than I love myself that I will accomplish even greater heights than I probably would otherwise.

Also, I have been debating writing a post about how Sanders thinks that dry-humping is a perfectly legit part of courtship, and how I have serious issue with that... beyond the fact that grinding my most sensitive of bits against anything with a zipper or button-fly is a 'raspberry' waiting to happen.

There is also the post I have been planning to write where I would somehow convey in a way that wouldn't make everyone mad, that even though we said we'd do it, that I really don't want to rate all the girls who requested to be rated privately. It takes forever... there are so many of you, and there's cooking channel to watch and Assassins Creed II to play.

Sure, there are a lot of posts to write. Aaron's getting played and it's fun to watch. Nick wants to date my sister who is 5 inches taller than him. Lance and I had a little heart-to-heart about him thinking about going on a mission. So, having something to write is not the problem.

The last few days, Calvin, who should be asking me if I want to go catch a matinee with him, instead has been asking me if I have done my post. I say, "Not yet." Calvin, "Will you have time to do it?" Jake, "Yeah, I'll do it." Then I don't, and I get texts like, "No post yet?" Then I feel bad, and promise him I'll get it done... again. Then, I don't do it... again. "I haven't had time." I say, and I realize that he knows, as do I, that I do have time. It sucks.

So... well... here is my post. For putting it off, and not wanting to do it, it ended up longer than I thought.

I'm just writing what I am thinking because, though we all thought I was gonna get married and fade out of this blog anyway... marriage, may or may not happen... but my desire to continue with this blog is fading anyway. Entertaining 1000 strangers is pretty fun, I just don't know if it's worth monopolizing my relationship with my best friend, and the Carpel Tunnel Syndrome I think I'm developing as a result of writing it.


Saturday, January 2, 2010

Take That Tori

I have a lot to say and I'm trying to sort out in my mind how much of it is necessary to write in this post. If I skip over things that don't seem important, then I'm sure I'll get a lot of questions asking me to clarify... and I'm too lazy to actually respond to every single comment that contains a question mark so it might be better if I just did my best to put it all out there right now.

Jake alluded to a few things, so I should probably fill in a few of the gaps. Marie was out of town this last weekend. Something about her cousins in Ogden. I was relieved when she told me she wouldn't be around. I mean... who wants to take a date to a New Year's Party, right (besides Jake)? Well, Tori called me on Wednesday. (When I call my dad at work, our conversations have been brief and cordial so I was caught off guard when she called my cell.) She jumped right into her reason for calling... I assume to prevent me from trying to guess her reason. She said she was going to a New Year's party on Thursday night and thought my roommate, Nick, might get along with her friend, Jennifer. I agreed to go, but secretly felt like we probably just wouldn't show.

However, at about 10pm on Thursday night, after driving around for way too long looking for something to do, we decided to just go to Bountiful to see what Tori's party was like. Jake was with Lisa and then it was Aaron, Nick and me. When we got there, I was shocked to see there were very few people in attendance. I assumed Tori would never dare to show her face anywhere where she wasn't the center of attention around at least 30 guys. But there she was, looking stupid and embarrassed to be at a party with such weak attendance. Her eyes lit up when she saw me, Nick, Aaron and Jake walk in. We doubled the number of guys in this house. Tori immediately came over to us and gave me a huge hug. She then called over her friend Jennifer and introduced her to Nick. Tori then started to introduce the rest of us to the other guests... most of which were female... and several of which were pretty hot.

Usually, I have hard time being outgoing when I'm outside of my comfort zone. But this party was so lame, I really had very little choice. I pretty much just followed Aaron's lead. Jake was distracted with Lisa and Nick was sitting down by the fireplace trying to get to know Jennifer, I assumed. Aaron was on fire... and since I was right next to him, I was also ablaze. All of the girls were looking at Aaron since he was the eye candy, but they had no choice but pay attention to me when they witnessed my outstanding personality and dimpleless smile (have I mentioned that I wish I had dimples?).

I kept seeing Tori staring at me in my above-average and finely tuned peripheral vision. Seriously, my peripheral vision is so amazing, I can read peoples lips from 200 yards away using just my peripheral vision. I got the feeling that she was following me around for most of the night, but I refused to acknowledge her. I knew it was probably rude, but I also knew if I started talking to her then I'd miss any other opportunity to snog anyone else at midnight. After about an hour, Tori got the hint and started focusing on Aaron... which kind of pissed me off.

At about 11:15pm I noticed Aaron and Tori sitting and talking on the couch. I wandered over to the bookcase and noticed a whole shelf dedicated to film-making and movie scripts and stuff. One book caught my eye called Improvisation Starters. I started flipping through it and eventually took it over to Jake to show it to him. Even though it wasn't our party, we decided to try to liven things up a little bit. I asked Jennifer who the host of the party was. She gestured to a plump woman in her mid 20's standing alone by the kitchen table.

I walked over to her and introduced myself. She told me her name, but I don't remember what it was. I asked if she'd mind if we started to act out some scenes for entertainment. Before she could answer, another girl interrupted and said to the host, "Hey, where's Jeremy?" The lady said, "He's passed out upstairs on the bed. He wasn't excited about being the only one drinking at this party." She then looked back at me and said she had no problem with my suggestion. I don't why, exactly, but I assumed Jeremy must be her boyfriend or something. She seemed like the owner of the house and this Jeremy character (in my mind) was her alcoholic, loser of a boyfriend.

Jake asked everyone to sit in the living room so we could start doing some of the scenes out of the book. Jake and I volunteered to go first just to get the ball rolling. We both stood up in front of all of the hot girls and a couple of wienerish dudes and flipped to a random page in the middle of the book. This is how it was set up:

The Scene: A photographer is snapping pictures of a model.
Models Objective: You don't like the photographer and you refuse to smile.
Photographers Objective: Threaten to fire her if she doesn't cooperate with you.

Jake was the photographer and I was the model. It started out simple enough and we started arguing with each other. It seemed like we were being entertaining enough, but because we were the one's running the show, there wasn't anyone to tell us to stop when we accomplished our goal. So we just kept going. Jake started to escalate it by telling me, the model, that if I wanted to keep my job that I would need to take off my shirt. It was awesome. I had about 20 girls laughing at our "scene" and I was about ready to take off my shirt. I pretended to feel violated and embarrassed as I slowly started taking off my shirt. I was kind of waiting for Jake to call "scene", but he didn't. It ended up working pretty well cause I was taking off my shirt so slowly... waiting for someone to tell me to stop. Nobody did. Once I dropped my shirt on the floor, I covered my right breast with my left hand and made sure my left arm was covering my other breast... kind of like the girls do in the movies. Everyone was laughing pretty hard and Jake was pretending he had a camera and was snapping a bunch of photos. Then Jake says, "Undo your pants for me, sweetheart." The girls were going pretty crazy at this point, so I decided to just see how far I could go before someone stopped me. I turned my back to everyone and started to undo my belt. Out of nowhere, one of the hotter girls at the party ran up to the front of the room yelled at Jake, "How dare you take advantage of this sweet young woman!" She picked my shirt off the floor and draped it around my naked shoulders, put her arm around me and we walked out of the room. It was pretty awesome.

A few other people took their turns acting out scenes, but they were all pretty lame. Then Jake asked Tori and Aaron if they'd take a turn. They both seemed pretty excited about it. Jake flipped through the book and then stopped on a random page. Jake just made up the scene for them, though.

Scene: You've just finished a first date.
Man's Objective: You're not leaving until you get a goodnight kiss.
Woman's Objective: You're a lesbian and are not attracted to men.

The scene starts out pretty normal. I'm pretty sure they both knew Jake had made it up, but they were playing along anyway. After arguing about the goodnight kiss for about 60 seconds, Tori looked away from Aaron and made eye contact with me. Then she says to Aaron, "You've got me all curious." Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and started making out with him right in front of everyone. Seriously... it was disgusting. Everyone was screaming and laughing like it was the greatest thing in the world, but it was really just gross.

Something snapped in my head. As I stared at Tori making out with one of my roommates just to spite me, I decided I was going to kiss as many girls as I could that night and I wanted Tori to see. It was already about 11:50 so I started trying really hard to find the best possible place to sit or stand when midnight came. The host turned on the TV so we could watch Carmen Electra embarrass herself on live television. I wandered over to where the hot girl was sitting who helped protect me from the perverted photographer. I said, "If you hadn't rescued me, I'd probably be in the fetal position right now, sucking my thumb and soiling myself in that guy's dirt basement." She laughed and we talked for a few minutes about who we knew at the party. I thought for a split second about saying something like, "So... you wanna kiss at midnight?" but then decided against it. I figured I could just look at her at midnight and see what happened.

Everyone started counting down from 10 and people started standing up. I stood up and mentally crossed my fingers. Then, in my peripheral vision I saw an average looking girl pushing her way through the other bodies and ended up standing right next to me. I thought, "Ah ha!" The countdown hit zero and I looked at Average Girl while everyone was screaming "Happy New Year" Neither one of us were screaming it, and she was looking at me... smiling. So I grabbed her and kissed her... hard. With tongue. After about 5 or 10 seconds, I pulled away and looked in the direction of Hottie on my other side. She was just pulling out of a kissless hug with some dude who was better looking than me. I thought, "I'll settle for a hug", but when she looked my direction, she went in for a wet, wet, wet smooch. It was awesome... and my eyes were open so I could see the look on the other guy's face. After about 10 seconds or so I came out of the embrace and glanced around the room. I saw the pudgy host standing against the wall about 5 feet away from me. I walked up to her and she stared at me like she was pretty nervous. I knew she had a boyfriend, but he chose to drink and pass out so I figured, what the hell. I put my hands on her arms, got really close to her and said, "Happy New Year." She looked at my lips and I figured that was a pretty good greenlight. I kissed her and she kissed me back... pretty freakin' hard. Like, her hands were all over my arms and back for at least 15 seconds. That's a long time, too. Count it out, right now, if you don't believe me.

Then I heard Aaron say from across the room, "Are you just kissing everyone, Calvin?" I yelled back, "If they'll let me." Everyone stood around talking for a few minutes, then the front door opened and a pretty attractive girl... maybe 19 or 20 years old came in the house. The host says to her, "I thought you were at Natalie's." The girls says, "I was, but I forgot my camera." She held up her camera. The host says to her, "Who did you kiss?" The girls says, "Nobody. I know, I'm dumb." Then the host says, "Calvin is kissing everyone if you're interested." She gestures to me. She smiled and said, "Really? Ok." She grabbed my hand, dragged me out the front door to the porch and kissed me for two full minutes. I thought it was longer, but Jake said he timed it.

When we were driving home the next morning, Aaron told me that he and Tori had made out for most of the night. Awesome, Aaron. Thanks for telling me that. Then he told me that Tori was pissed at me cause I made out with Carrie. I said, "Who's Carrie?" Aaron said, "The host of the party. The owner of the house. The lady whose husband was asleep upstairs while you were kissing her."

That was the first time the thought had even entered my head. I mean, I knew she wasn't single, necessarily, but I didn't know she had exchanged wedding vows with the guy. Why did she kiss me for so long if she was married? I mean... the guy was drunk, so I assume they weren't married in the temple... but I'm pretty sure a civil wedding still counts as being married. We were all laughing nervously about it. Even Lisa thought it was pretty funny... which makes me like her more than I already did.

Honestly, though... I've been thinking about it for the last couple of days. If I could go back... would I still kiss her knowing she was married? Probably not. But ONLY because I wouldn't want to get beat up by her husband. If he was in a wheelchair, though...


Friday, January 1, 2010

2010 Looks to be a Doozy for the Jakester

New Years Eve was pretty awesome. When I say awesome I am particularly focusing on the “awe” portion of the word. All of us went to a little party up in Bountiful (minus Lance he went to Harry-O’s black tie masquerade thingy). Oh, and here’s a story you’ll love, we were invited to said party by none other than Tori.

Yep, Tori is going to be flying to BYU-Hawaii next week. She called Calvin and told him that she had a friend that she really thought Nick would like. Rather than setting her friend Jennifer and Nick up on a date she wanted Nick, and all of us to come to her friend’s party where Nick and Jennifer could meet.

Tori’s proposition seemed innocent enough… HA! riiiiiiggght. I told Calvin that this was clearly a ploy to get attention from him. He was aware but undaunted. I think he figured with Marie out of town, it’s New Years Eve, and he has to kiss someone. Tori is a given, (and though our blog makes us sometimes come off as suave lady killers with the ability to walk into an room at any time and score with the 'finest of fine' ladies) Calvin, like any man when action is concerned, is often prone to take the “given” rather than seeking a better option and risk getting nothing.

Aaron and Nick thought theirs was as good a party to go to as any. Nick hadn’t gotten any action for a couple months either, so I think he was liking the "hook up" idea. I brought Sanders along for the festivities and the night was really fun and a little insane.

The party was rather small (about 20 people) but we all got some stroke-of-midnight-smooches. Here’s a little shock-and-awe for you… Aaron ended up making out with Tori in front of everybody, thanks to a conniving scheme Calvin and I came up with off the cuff. Nick, got some! Hooray! I got some... and while kissing Lisa, I would occasionally look up to see Calvin, lip-locked with a different girl every couple minutes… including one girl, which, I’m pretty sure is married.

I would expound, but I have far more important things to talk about than our escapades in the early minutes of 2010. Now on to me. Three somewhat paramount things have come up in my life in the past three days.

Thing One: I lost my job. That’s right, I got fired. Not laid-off, fired. Perhaps I should point out that I have been fired or laid off from every job I have ever had... except for one. And, actually I was only laid off once and that was my job before this one. I probably deserved to get fired. In probably 80% of my life's firings, I deserved it.

Why am I such a terrible employee? Well, I have a problem with authority. I do not respect authority. I generally think I am smarter than my superiors, thus I begin outsmarting them (or trying to) A practice which usually manifests itself in me doing the least amount of work I can in order to get the most amount of money.

This time I was fired because I was always late. Not by, like, five minutes, but more like 15 minutes to an hour. Every day. There was no outsmarting involved, though. I just never thought he’d fire me. I blatantly showed up late, usually with a grinning “sorry boss.” Well, when I showed up 63 minutes late for work on Tuesday and my excuse was “Um, I was up till 4am playing Modern Warfare 2”, he carried out his repeated warning and fired me.

Thing Two: I got kicked out of school. I know what you’re thinking, “How does someone get kicked out of college?” Well, I wasn’t a very good student in high school. Don’t mistake that for me not being a very good learner, I am just a bad student. I graduated high school with a 1.8 GPA. Yes, you most certainly can get a diploma with a GPA that low. I also, ignored my high school counselor’s advice and failed to take many of the required high school courses like senior year English, a higher math than geometry, foreign language, and science. I know, I know, my poor mother.

So, how did I make it into the U of U in the first place? Easy. I scored very, very high on the ACT test. A high enough score that, after my mission, they let me in despite my obvious lack of commitment. The counselor at the U said, “You are obviously learning, you’re just no good at homework.” I haven’t felt so understood like I did when she said that. However, it was on a “conditional acceptance” where I would have to take all the courses I skipped in high school.

I didn’t take the college seriously, just like my boss, and took whatever classes I wanted. I sort of figured they wouldn’t let me register for them if it was a big deal. I was wrong. So, even though I got a 4.0 for the classes I did take, I got a letter this week saying that I was out.

(Sigh) Thing One and Thing Two should be freaking me out. I can blame no one for my plight except for myself. Yet, I’m not really that worried. I can get another $9 an hour job… and I’m pretty sure the only requirement for getting into SLCC or Weber State is the ability to fog a mirror. So no big, and for now I will use this as an excuse to take the semester off.

Thing Three: I think Sanders and I might be getting married. At the party we went to last night, there was a room above the detached garage that is a make shift theater room. After Smooch Fest 2010. We sneaked away and ended up in that room lying in the dark in the jumbo Luv Sac. We made out and talked which is my favorite thing. I like talking and I like making out, and with my virgin perspective, can think of few things that rival or best those moments. Lisa and I didn’t get engaged, per se, but, well, read the story and see what you think.

It was pretty late. About an hour had gone by since Sanders and I started loving in the Luv Sac. Our conversation stalls when I say, “Look how cool the snow looks in the moonlight.” The flakes were huge, and I’m not sure if it’s a full moon, but it’s a bright one. Lisa says, “Oh my gosh it’s so pretty.” We stare out the window and after a few minutes I say, “It’s kind of mesmerizing, like staring at a fire.” She didn’t respond. Her head was on my shoulder, so I couldn’t see her eyes. I decide she was probably asleep. I gently kissed her on the forehead to check. She didn't respond.

I looked back out the window and wondered how long we had been up there. It was probably 12:30 when we left the living room to find someplace we could be alone. I mused over the nights events and was a bit surprised that no one had texted me or had come looking for us. Maybe they were still playing games, maybe they were watching a movie, maybe they had paired off and found themselves in similar surroundings to mine. There were more girls than guys… I grinned thinking that Aaron or Calvin might be snuggling with girls of their own.

Just then my phone rang, loud enough to wake Lisa up. It was a text from Aaron, “We’re crashing here tonight. Cool?” I had taken a stand on sleeping together with Lisa thus far, but figured she was pretty much already asleep and texted him back, “cool.”

Lisa says, “These Luv Sacs are extremely comfy to snuggle in, but they’re not the best for a snog.” I laugh, and say, “Yeah, my elbows and hands were never very sturdy, every time I shifted my weight I fell over.” She kissed me on the cheek and said, “You adapted to the unsure terrain nicely.” I reply, “That’s what I do, I adapt… did you just use the word 'terrain' in the dark.” Lisa giggled a little, “I’m tired.” I roll slightly on to my side which made her head fall softly back off of my shoulder and into my crelbow, I slid my other hand, which was resting on her side, up her side and back, and gently grabbed the back of her head and kissed her. Then I say, “Go to sleep.” She ignored me and said, “That’s how come I know you will do great, because you are a good adapter.”

I respond, “What?” She says, “With your job. And school. I’m not worried, because I think you’ll do great.” I say, “I’m not worried either.” She says, “I know, that’s another great thing about you.” I say, “I should get you tired more often so you'll deliriously compliment me.” She kisses me on the cheek again, and says, “I think I love you.” Caught off guard I paused for a second. So she starts talking again. “I know you don’t feel as strongly about me as I do you, but I think you are an amazing guy and I love you.”

My mind is racing. I feel very strongly about Lisa. I feel as strongly about her as I did Andrea. I’m just not sure if it’s love. I don’t even think I know what love is. I want to know, but… do I want her to show me? I didn’t want to say “I love you, too” if I didn’t mean it. But if I don’t even know what it is then how can I not mean it? I decided that because my feelings for her are as strong as I have ever had for a girl, that until I had a feeling stronger or more powerful to replace it, that this must be love.

“I love you, too.” I say back. Her face lit up as much as I could tell in the dark. “Really?” she yelps, her voice excited and higher than usual. I responded quickly, “Yes.” Lisa was laying on her side, but with me right next to her, her arms were trapped between our bodies bent at the elbows and then flat in front of her chest so her fists were right below her chin. I felt her body start to shake, and couldn't figure out if she was trying to move or if she was just that excited.

Then, she shifts her weight so she can pull both her arms out from under her, and grabs me by the cheeks and kisses me. She doesn’t just kiss me, she pellets me with kisses all over my face and mouth. She stops and looks at me. She has the “seeing” advantage because the moonlight from the window behind her and is illuminating my face. I can see, though, that her eyes were bouncing back and forth between different parts of my face. Then she says, “When you think about 'us' and the future do you think about us... married?” I think about her question, “Yes.” I say. She says, “Me too.” Then repeats the 'kiss attack' move.

Lisa settles down and rests on my shoulder again. All her moving around made us sink further into the Luv Sac and smash together even more. So, she had nowhere for her arms to go but on my chest. She sighed, her voice has gone back to the quiet tired voice from before, “I will, for real, let you take that back if you want.” I thought about it. Sure I don’t know what love is… or maybe I do and just need to learn it. And, sure, I omitted that when she asked me. I do really always think about us being married, though. I had been praying fairly generally about “us”, nothing specific yet, because I’ve been thinking it’s too soon. Obviously, (and remember this... cause it’s rare) I was wrong.

I say, “No, I really think we’re getting married.” Lisa whispers, “Me too.” I say, “I mean… I haven’t fasted about it or anything… and there has been no proposal, but those seem like technicalities.” Lisa whispers, “Yeah.” I look out the window to see the snow has stopped. She says, “Me too.”

We both lay there, in the dark, for several minutes. Then I feel Lisa’s breathing get slower. I assume she is asleep like before. I kiss her on the forehead again and say, “Night.” My mind runs through what just happened. I think to myself, "I am going to marry Sanders." Then I hear her voice again, “We’re getting married.” I didn’t fall asleep for a long time.

I am anxiously waiting for more time to pass to see how this pseudo-engagement shakes out. Lucky for me I don’t have a job, nor am I a student. I’ll have lots of time to ponder my future.