He's just not that into you..or he's just not that into women!

I'm going to stop saying in posts what I am going to be posting about for a week--I was going to post all this stuff that shaped me to thirty...but...now that thirty is tomorrow, well I don't want to talk about it OK??!

Due to the reaction to my last 2 part series (reactions that were mainly to my face and not posted on my blog...ahem...) I have been encouraged by my good friend Jen --who often likes to laugh at my expense, to continue blogging about my penchant for dating gay men.  **It is important to note, that I no longer date gay men--Brian wanted to make sure this disclaimer was made**.

Some thought my last blog topic may not be real.  Let me and about 50 other witnesses to the 'relationship' tell you, OH it happened.  It is also important to note a couple of other things:

My first kiss.  He is now gay.  There were numerous other crushes on gay men.  I'm sure Freud would say I was attracted to the gays so I could avoid real feelings and relationships or something...or that my parents didn't hug me enough.  **Mom, Dad..I'm kidding, you did PLENTY of hugging.  Just the right amount*.

When I went to orientation for college I sat in a session with a really hot guy.  He had really blue eyes, he was dressed so cute, and had this blond curly hair.  He was super tan and looked like a life guard.  He sat next to me and kept smiling.  Oh, my gosh.  He thinks I'm cute too.  It was a two day orientation and by the end my friend Scott was out of the closet.  Darn it!  But, he is one of my best gays.  I should have listened to him more because clearly I got in the short line for 'gay-dar' and in the long line for 'blissful ignorance'.
School started and I quickly became friends with girls on the 3rd floor of one of the dorms.  I lived off campus, so I would always stay with my new friends in their room.  Their RA caught my eye.  Looking back, I don't know why.  He was a nice enough guy, but good grief.  He spent more time in the mirror than I did, was worried about his skin care routine, ironed his boxers, and his wrist joint had been permanently removed.
EVERYONE told me he was gay.  I am always up for a challenge and, after all--he totally said he wasn't.
Because he was an RA he had a private room and a big king size bed.  Which really just meant two of the twin beds got pushed together.  I would hang out in his room and watch him organize his closet.
Should I organize it by prints or colors?  Hang or fold my denim and khakis?
I don't know?? Can't we make out???
Some nights he was super nice and would let me stay in his room..which meant sleeping in his bed.  I would lay awake all  night waiting for something to happen...a foot to touch mine..really anything.

Then I would go talk to Jen, Deb and Kris and we would analyze why nothing happened.  They were mostly kind about it 'Al, maybe he's just really polite'...and when I would leave they would say 'UM HE IS GAY!'

One night, my friend Cait and I were so excited.  Another RA who she had a crush on asked her on a date--and the best part was..it was a DOUBLE date with me and my RA.
No one could believe it--we were going out with them..maybe..just maybe they weren't!
About 20 minutes into the meal Cait and I realized these two RA's were actually on a date with EACH OTHER and we were there for show.  Yeah.  That was awkward.

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road..

So, Boston...skipping down cobblestone streets.  We headed off on date night into a couple of bars just chatting and drinking.  Somewhere along our path, something started to seem...off.  I couldn't put my finger on it.
We ended up stopping at his apartment for a bit where we ran into Michael.  He was clearly annoyed at our existence and after they exchanged some cold words we headed out to a bar about half a block down the street.  This is when Douglas really started to drink. And stop talking.  It was the kind of drinking someone does that is almost embarrassing to watch and make eye contact with the waitress.  Especially since I wasn't even close to catching up.  I had class in the morning 45 minutes away, and had to drive home..because..well, we were still only just kissing in the streets.
As I watch him pound his 4th or 5th Guiness, I really start asking what is wrong.
'OK, I know you and Michael kinda got into it..are you OK'
'I'm fine.  It's fine.'
'Well..umm.  You're really puttin' em back.  You don't really look like you're OK...you can talk to me you know'
'No.  I can't talk to you about this'
'about what?'
'you wouldn't understand'
'try me, I'm pretty understanding..whatever it is couldn't be that bad'
silence.
'truly! You can tell me anything--I'm not going to judge, I'm here to listen'  I was his girlfriend for crying out loud...NO LABELS!
silence.
OK.  Now I was getting worried.  And I told him so.  As I started to make more headway on my own beer and stare off into space as he held his head in his hands and stared at the table, my mind started spinning.
'Look', he said 'I have something I have to tell you.  I've been making myself believe that you didn't have to know, that it didn't matter.  I don't want to tell you.  I can't tell you'
'You can tell me anything, I told you that.'
'Not this, when I tell you, you will never look at me the same again.  You aren't even going to want to be near me'
I couldn't believe it.  I had finally found someone who made me happier than anyone ever had and he had a deep dark secret.  Of course he did.  I started preparing myself for the worst.  This night wasn't going to end well, and I knew it.  I wasn't ready for my fairy tale to end. What could I put up with for deep dark secrets?  What would make him think that I would judge him??  Now that I am typing this..I am realizing..this is JUST like Twilight.  Douglas was my own Edward.
Yeah.  He wasn't a freakin' vampire, that's for sure.
Anyways, what could be so bad?  Oh my GOD.  Oh. My GOD.  This is when I started talking to God.  It was a God drunk dial.  I don't think he appreciated it. I'm sure like the rest of us he prefers his phone calls to be sober, mostly because I assume God is sober all the time.  I'm pretty sure God's not drunk.  Maybe on Sunday God has mimosa's?   He has an awful lot of people talking to him then.  I would need a mimosa.
Sorry.  So, I start bargaining with God.  Please God.  Don't let this end.  What is it?  What did I do to be so unlucky in love??  What is he going to tell me???  What do people judge..hmm..
Maybe he had a kid with his ex girlfriend that he hadn't told me about...maybe they had the baby young and gave her up for adoption..or maybe they didn't keep the baby?  Maybe.
No.  That isn't it.   He is dying.  I know he is dying.  God, you let me find love and he is DYING.  He has some awful un-curable disease...OH. MY. GOD.  THAT is why he hasn't put a hand on me.  He doesn't want me to possibly get sick too.  He's so pale right now, and thin.  I can't believe he is going to die.  I love him.  That's it.  I love him, and even if he is dying I don't care.  I made my mind up.
Douglas was dying and I was going to love him.  Suddenly, I was very sober.
'Let's get out of here'
Douglas nodded and pounded the last of his beer, while I took his debit card and paid our tab.
'Listen, you have to tell me what is going on.  You have to trust that I am going to listen to you, and not judge you.'
We walked to his stoop and sat for what seemed like hours.
'Alison.  What I have to tell you is going to make you get up and walk away from me forever.  I want you to know that I never ever wanted to hurt you, and now I know that I am about to--and I want you to know how much I feel for you before I tell you what I am about to tell you..because, after--I'm not going to have the chance to tell you'
My heart was now doing a tap dance. I almost couldn't breathe.  I just wanted one more day without knowing he was going to die.  I started to cry.
'Alison, the reason why Michael is so upset...is because, he is in love with me.  I had been really confused, and I thought I had feelings for him too.  No one ever knew, but we slept together.  I didn't want to, but he made me, but you have to understand, I love  you.  I want to be with YOU.  You made me realize I am not gay-and I know you can't be with me anymore, but I couldn't keep that from you.  I am so sorry, about everything--but, just know that these past 2 months have been the most amazing months of my life.  I didn't know I could be so happy with a woman, and you made me feel something inside that I didn't know was possible.'

Um.  What?  This is where it gets good.  I bet you think you know what I did right? Of course I either:
A.  Ran off down the street and never looked back
B.  Told him, I was sorry but, he was right I couldn't be with him, and ended the relationship.

I mean--the signs were all now REALLY clear.  He and Michael shared a room.  This was not all that strange in college...but, what was really strange was that although he had an air mattress on the floor...his special pillow was always in Michael's bed.  This to anyone else would be a red flag.  Everyone told me they thought there was something weird with him and Michael..for most-this too would be a red flag.
Not for Alison.

'Douglas..is that it?'
'What do you mean?'
'Is that IT?  Is that the whole secret?'
'uh..yeah'
'It's fine.'
'What??'
'It's fine.  Have you been with Michael since you've been with me?'
'No, never!  You made me realize I'm not gay!'
'Do you love Michael?'
'No!'
'Do you want to be with ME?'
'Yes...but, I know we can't'
'but, we can...it's fine.  Who am I to judge?  You were confused, but I love you and I don't care about your past--I can get past this with you.  I love you.'
'Alison..Michael and I fucked.  We fucked a lot'  Wow. That's a mouth-full. Let me tell you when you're boyfriend is telling you he fucked his roomate Michael.  Not just telling you he slept with him but basically telling you 'HELLO YOU ARE AN IDIOT, RUN FOR THE HILLS' take the cue!!  Run for the hills.  Yeah.  He really said that to me.  Like to really drill the reality in my head of the carnal acts they shared.  I think I shuddered and tried to get the image out of my head, it's not really a dream moment when you find out that your boyfriends past lover is named Michael.
And what did I do?  I told not one single soul.  I was almost a martyr.  We were happy for a whole month after that--things were great.  Do you know how HARD it is for me not to tell my girlfriends something??  Yeah.  They weren't really going to understand this one.
Douglas was like a bird set free.  He was so happy---it was almost as if he now floated.  And, I was kind of awesome because clearly--I could get past anything.
Until the day that Douglas bailed on plans for us.  Michael also didn't show up to class that day.  Odd.
The next night he visited me at school while Michael was in rehearsal..but, he wasn't himself.  He didn't hold my hand.  We barely spoke.
Later on we met up with friends at Beerworks and shared dinner.  The night before Michael had told the director (who we were out with) that he was sick.
She asked if he was feeling any better.  I looked up at Michael.  Michael with a smirk looked at Douglas.  Douglas looked into his beer.
A couple weeks later after multiple non returned phone calls we met up and he told me he had some stuff to work out.
Yeah.  I let him work that out on his own.

Follow the yellow brick road

As I reflected on the year in January I did a sort of decade in review.  In that post I said I would elaborate on some of the stories.
I turn 30 9 days from today, and as 30 is really the new decade for me, I am going to try and post something everyday that has shaped me thus far.  This is totally out of order now that I am thinking of things I am going to write about, but for some reason this story is stuck in my head.

***THIS IS AN ADULT STORY WITH ADULT LANGUAGE.  YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED***
(This means it's gonna be really good--but, if you are a relative or afraid you are going to find out too much about me..it's not like that at all so you can keep reading, I'm just saying to be true to the story...I'm going to talk about adult topics and drop the F-bomb)

When I was 20 years old I had perhaps what will go down as one of the best summers of my life.  I lived with 3 of my best friends, and since we lived across the street from our college people were always stopping by.  I was a smoker...and although this is a dirty nasty habit that I do not condone, or do anymore..I like to think I made smoking look good.
I had a pretty good fake ID that I only got stopped at one bar over, and they still let me in.  The pounds that I packed on my Freshman year were coming off and I was feeling good about myself.

Again, I majored in Theatre and finally got cast in a great part in a great show 'Little Shop of Horrors'. I was a doo-wop girl--lots of singing and dancing.  Great costumes and general fabulousness.  Fabulocity as Kimora Lee Simmons would say.  I wish I made up that word.  I finally felt like I was going to be able to show my professors that summer that I was worth a shot in other shows.

None of this however trumped my crush that summer.  It had started with a musical review I was cast in. This guy was the director--he came from the Boston Conservatory, 21 or 22.  Tall, slight build, blond crazy hair, beautiful blue eyes...I think.  Well, I'm pretty sure they were blue.  We're going with blue.
All of us (men and women alike) had a crush on Douglas...or Duglis as he liked to call himself.
He was ridiculously talented, and watching him play the piano was almost a religious experience.
Then he came in to direct Little Shop and it was over.
He had something about him.  A combination of talent, awkwardness, handsomeness, kindness..and a burning question of 'was he or wasn't he gay' about him.  Not totally feminine but, a quality about him that made you wonder.

All summer long I rehearsed, worked waitressing, watched dirty dancing at odd hours with my friend Johanna ( I don't know why, but we watched it every night between 1 and 3AM and recited the whole move out loud..probably because we were drunk).  I became a better actress, singer and performer because of that summer--and because of Douglas.  A big part was my need to impress him, but who cares? I got there!  This may have also helped me shed those lbs!
I felt a lot of times that we had chemistry and that we were flirting but, for one of the first times in my life I didn't get all stupid and just tell him how I felt.  This was hard for me---I put everything out there, usually immediately.  I couldn't handle finding out that he 'just wasn't that into me' while I had to see him everyday, so I kept my mouth shut.
Good GOD that was hard.  I spent the entire summer analyzing with my friends everything he said to me or did.  I went out of my way to pick him up in Boston, spent a ton of time with him in his fabulous apartment on Beacon street and again, smoking way too many cigarettes and drinking WAY too much.  All the things that are appealing when you are 20, but as you approach 30 you say wow.  I was so dumb!
Michael--Douglas's roomate was also in the show with us and they both became a permanent fixture in my life.
It was a glorious summer.
Finally the show went up, and it was a huge success, I was noticed--I actually DID have talent. That was a relief--my college debt would have been all for naught.  Oh..wait.  I'm not doing anything with my Theatre degree..hmmm
Oh.  Right.  It was a glorious summer.
Things were definitely sparking between us but we had never said anything about it, the show was ending and it was setting in that I better speak now.  His birthday was coming and I told him I was going to take him somewhere special.  I knew it was now or never and it was time to tell him how I felt.  What did I have to lose?  I was listening on repeat to a mix tape he gave me and analyzing his song choice. Even I knew it was getting bad.
I took him to 'Castle Rock' in Marblehead one night.  It is a beautiful place--it is a rock that sits right out on the ocean. You climb to the top and the view at night is breath-taking.
We sat for a couple of hours just talking, and my heart was going about 2,000 beats per minute.  I just had to say it.  I don't remember what I said, but I told him that I had feelings for him..and jackpot.  He did too. I couldn't believe it--because I had to talk myself out of the possibility of him liking me back or else I probably would have jumped off the damn rock.
All of a sudden--I swear this is true---a moon that looked like it was out of a movie rose out of the water. It was a beautiful orangey-red color, and it was so enormous it looked fake.   It was like a sign.  Of what?  I don't know.  But, I had possibly never been happier in my life.  I had found love.  Love found me back.
The best summer turned into the most wonderful fall.  We spent the nights skipping through the streets of Boston.  Having dates, and doing some of the most amazing kissing I had ever experienced.  This kissing was so amazing, that it didn't strike me as odd that it was all we ever did physically.  Also..we only did it in public.  In restaurants, on the streets by my car.  Yup, we were that couple people were beeping at.  It was ridiculous, and I didn't care.  I didn't care that his best friend and roomate Michael was really jealous of us hanging out.  He started to hate me...but, you know what?  I was in LOVE.  I didn't care!
I also didn't care that Douglas didn't want to 'label' our relationship.  Who needed labels??? I hit the kissing only jackpot.  I saw the red flags and chose to ignore them.  I smiled so hard those 3 months that I'm surprised my top lip didn't swallow my nose.  Did I mention the kissing..it was a drug.

Perhaps this 'drug' induced haze is why I didn't see it coming.  

To be continued......

Awkward moments, courtesy of facebook; Parts I and II

Part I.

I always end up feeling bad somehow when on facebook.  Usually in the morning at work I pull it up for a quick FB debriefing and then minimize it for the day.  I'm in sales, so often I don't look at it for hours--sometimes I leave the office and leave it open.  I do it at home, I open it-and forget about it.

I always forget to just take myself off-line so people don't chat with me.  My friends' mom always IM's me and half the time I am not even there to answer, and she seems so lost!  I always feel bad that I didn't get to tell her I wasn't ignoring her...I was just..not there!   I'm sure she isn't crying about it, but still--I feel bad!

What's worse though is how to stop IM-ing with someone.  It always seems like a good idea to just send someone that quick message while you know they are right there online (unless, it's me and now you know I'm sometimes not there).  The conversation starts and you say what you need to say.  After that it instantly gets..awkward.  

'So, how was your day?'

'good--yours'

'Good.'

'doing anything this weekend'

'yeah, going skiing with some friends'

'nice'

'yeah'

'OK, well, I'm gonna go watch TV and floss my teeth now'

'Ok!  Bye!'

'See ya, have a good night'

'You too'

'K! night'

'Night!'

' :-) '

' :-)' 

And done.   Seriously??? We aren't on the phone, we don't need all the fillers--even the phone gets out of control, it's like some weird who gets the last work game.

'Ok'

'alright, talk to you later'

'take care'

'you too'

'alright'

'alright' 

'bye'

'bye'

'bye'

Every. Time.   Some times theres even that weird laugh that you do.You know it..when your saying goodbye--it's like..'huh hmm, bye'..or 'hmm hmm, bye'. I can't get the sound right in words..but you know it and use it.  

Part II.

OK, so like I said, sometimes I just keep facebook minimized.  The other day I was working, and I needed my boss to do something on his end so I could finish what I was doing.  I sent him a quick e-mail knowing he was at his desk.  I took this opportunity to catch up on what had happened in the last 3 hours.  I came across a picture of someone who I know from a while back whose pictures let just say always shock me.  I'm not easily shocked.  Now, I'm not judging, but they aren't necessarily things that I would post.  I knew it would get a rise out of a co-worker of mine so I call him over.  Well, he's beside himself.

Let me also say, it wasn't a picture that was really TERRIBLE to have on my screen..but, it wasn't something that like I said...I would have put up there myself, hence calling my co-worker over. 

This picture led me to coming across a picture of someone's (fully clothed ) butt across my entire screen. It was time to log out.  This was not good.

My boss doesn't like to call people in the office on the phone.  He likes to walk over to your desk to tell you things.  He is also very quick, light on his feet and generally stealthy for his age.  Or any age.  

You often don't know he is there until he is right in your ear--he scares me EVERY time.

As I'm trying to log out while the picture is still up...don't you know I see him in the reflection of my screen before I hear him.

Then I get a case of crazy hand that only says 'hi boss, i'm doing something I shouldn't be'..even though I  really wasn't, but this persons picture that I chose to pull up has cause an awkward moment.

Now my computer is moving slow, like it knows and is laughing at me on the inside of it's cold mother board, as I fumble with my mouse and swivel my chair around trying to block the screen with my body at the same time as trying to shut down the FB.  I was too late.  My boss, totally cool.  Either didn't see or graciously acted like he didn't see.  God love him.

Now, I'm in a sweat and my heart is racing.  I peer into my co-workers cube.  He's laughing at me.

'Al, I am SO SORRY, he was too quick I didn't have time to react!  I couldn't stop him!  I thought about tackling him down to the ground to give you more time!'

That would have been great.  I really do love my boss--and not only because I'm afraid he's going to read this.  I think he is great.  But, the slow motion image of him being blindsided by my tall lanky cube mate and taken down to the ground for no reason but to save me from embarrassment...that gives me a good laugh.  I don't open questionable pictures at work anymore.  Thanks Facebook.

I'm trying. I really am.

So, I was going to get off my 30 pity party.  I was going to embrace yet again that 2010 is going to be my year.
A good haircut always makes me feel better.  I was certain this one would make me feel REALLY good because I haven't had it cut since before Christmas, and anyone with short hair knows that this is not a good thing.  I couldn't wait.  She asked if we were 'doing the same thing', I hate that.  It makes me sound predictable.  I was actually ready to try something new, but I didn't have time to find pictures of what I wanted so I said, 'well, yes.  But, in October you cut it and it was shorter than last time you cut it, and now it's even longer...so..shorter but the same'.
She said 'so, shorter?'
me: 'um. yeah'.

The shampoo girl took me in back, and last time this girl shampooed my hair, it was almost a religious experience.  Seriously.  I thought I was going to have an Herbal Essence commercial moment.  So, I was so excited to see the same girl.  This was going to be good.
I have to say, she kinda half assed it.  I mean, at least get a little scrub going ya know?  I love a good scalp massage.  I should have known something was up.

I sat in the chair and my girl came back, ready to start chopping.  Usually she is really chatty, today..not so much.  I can't NOT talk (obviously), so I start making chit chat.  Nothing.  Dead Ends.
Then she throws it on me:  Um, so I have some news.  I'm moving to New York.  In two weeks.  I just gave my notice like, an hour ago.

WHAT???  She then referred me to someone who if he didn't smile and wave at me like a lunatic, I would be afraid to approach him in a back alley.  You know, cause I'm always in back alleys.

Then I did this thing I keep doing.  I gave an awkward hug.  I don't think we really needed to hug...I don't think she wanted a hug...But, there I was giving an awkward hug because it felt like the right thing to do.

Now that I think of it I should have flicked her right in the cheek and told her she ruined my year.  People really underestimate the power of a hard flick.

Happy Valentine's day--change your underpants.

We can file this post under the caption TMI.  Brian might kill me for all this info, but he doesn't read my blog.  That's what he gets!
Since we have been serious and lived together the agreement is that he cooks and I do laundry.  Since the OK to do his laundry it has been a constant battle to weed out the um..underwear that just shouldn't be there.  Like WHY would you keep underwear with holes in it?  Especially when you have new packs of underwear in your drawer ready to wear.
But, he wears it to work--as a chef, or to the gym.  So, he says he doesn't want to ruin his 'good underwear'.  What's the difference???  You don't pull out the 'good' underwear for special occasions!
Didn't his mom ever drill the importance of nice underwear into his head?  You, know incase you get hit by a bus--at least you have on clean underwear and no one can say you have a bad mother/girlfriend.
For work and the gym he enjoys 'tighty whities'..for real.  However, they have been washed so many times they are more 'tighty grey-ies'.

So.  Being the sneak that I am, every week when I do laundry I 'lose' a pair or two of underwear.  So far, it works like a charm.

This year for Valentines day I bought Brian a card that has 'the difference between men's and women's sexy underwear.  The cartoon picture of a woman's was a red thong with lace, silk and bows all pointed out.  The picture of the man's was tighty whities and arrows pointing to 'clean' and 'no holes'.  Jackpot!  It was perfect.

This morning we opened cards.  He bought me the same one.  This is how I know we are meant to be.  That, and I put up with his underwear.

Smooth Operator..no need to ask.

I inadvertently got my facebook page all in a scuffle over Sade today.  Who knew?  Apparently, only mostly ME.
So, 2010 is suppose to be my year--I was believing it, and I still do.  Even Susan Miller on the website 'Astrology Zone' is pretty much telling me this is going to be the best year of my life.  So far I lost my grandfather, I'm still in debt, I need new tires, and I am pretty sure I'm going to owe money on my taxes.  But, all signs point to a STELLAR year.
So, truth be told I'm not totally traumatized about turning 30.  But, I walked into Starbucks today--which is really like going into cheers for me only in multiple locations.  Because I have a distinctive drink, and Starbucks is pretty much amazing-everyone knows my name.  The reason why multiple locations know my name is because I used to get really embarrassed when they started to remember my drink and my name.  I thought it made me pretentious, so I would find a new Starbucks.  Now, for over $4 for my morning coffee I find it a nice luxury not to even tell the staff that I want a Venti, decaf, nonfat, rasberry, mocha, no whip, no foam- no fun.  I just walk in and everyone says 'Hey Alison!' and they grab a cup and get it going.  It's priceless.
This morning- Nicole (yeah. I know their names too) looked at her stack of Sade's newly released CD ready to put out.  'I don't even know who this is'. WHAT???
Yup.  She was too young to remember Sade.  Well, at least that is how I interpreted it, because EVERYTHING has become about my age in my head suddenly.  So, I told her she was great she should listen to it, took my coffee, got in my car and promptly posted on Facebook how I was old because I remember Sade, and young Nicole at Starbucks did not.  WELL.  At first there was sympathy, and then there it was.  'I don't even know if I know who THEY are?  I might have heard THEIR music on the radio before and not known it was THEM'.  That is what one of my friends posted. GOOD GOD.  Even my best gay didn't know right off the bat!  I feel like if any man would know it would be the gays???  No.  I'm wrong.  Every man trying to bed a woman in the 80's or 90's...and even now knows poppin' some Sade in is going to seal the deal.  I could seal the deal with my cat if it put Sade on, but I don't have a cat so don't worry.
Anyways, Sade was totally up there with Madonna with me at 4 years old.  Also, Hall and Oats were there too..Their hit 'Man-Eater' somehow translated in my brain at 4 as 'Dance Meter'.  I imagined it was some sort of parking meter like device that was on the dance floor at clubs and everyone put a nickle in so they could stay on the dance floor.
Maybe I should embrace 30.  My youth is looking a little embarrassing.