Honesty Is Not Always the Best Policy

I love my boyfriend dearly - quirks, idiosyncrasies, strange habits included. He's loyal, he's thoughtful, he's attentive, he's honest.

And therein lies the problem. This fool is a little too honest.

Last weekend, he and I headed to the East Bay to visit his best friend Matt and Matt's girlfriend Kim. On the drive into town, Ty says, "I know a girl who lives around here that I tried really, really hard to hook up with back in college."

Okay. Moving on.

We drive a little closer to Matt and Kim's place.

"Yeah, that girl I know - she works in a restaurant here. Her name's Kate."

All righty. Swell.

I didn't think anything of it because frankly, college was a bagillion years ago.

We got to Matt and Kim's, and they took us out for beers. The place we went to was great, and after we finished up, we decided to walk to another bar down the street. As we near the bar, what happens to be right next door to it? Yep, that's right - the restaurant Ty's little college friend works at.

"I'm going to go see if she's there and say hi," he says. Fine. Again, not stressing at this point because what are the chances this chick still works at the same restaurant? Plus, Ty is Mr. Friendly with everyone, so nothing unusual there.

But of course, while Matt, Kim and I are sitting in the bar, who walks up to us with Ty in tow? Good ol' college hook up Kate. W. T. F.

Apparently, by some miracle (misfortune?) she still works there, and instead of looking through the window, confirming employment and heading back to the bar, Ty thought it was a smart idea to go in with a welcome wagon. I guess when he told her he was hanging next door with his girlfriend and some friends, she got the grand idea to pop on over to say hi.

Not only did this chick have a lip ring, but she genuinely used the term "hyphy" in a sentence. W. T. F.

These are the types of women my boyfriend was so hung up on?!? Not like my past doesn't have its share of train wrecks, but lordy. Why did he try so hard with Hyphy?

Immediately my irritation kicked in, and I gave some serious attitude to Ty. I was not in the mood to be the "cool" girlfriend that puts on my chipper face and introduces herself, acting completely care-free. Uh uh. Nope. Not gonna do it.

Instead I went the green monster route - I gave her the cold shoulder, barely acknowledged her presence and subsequently downed 3 shots of whiskey. She didn't hang for long, but the effect of the Jameson sure did.

Needless to say, the evening was a bust. I was annoyed with Ty (albeit nicely drunk and annoyed), and I'm sure I looked like a psycho, insecure bitch to his friends. In the end, he and I talked it out and are totally fine now. I'm still trying to decipher why I reacted the way I did when I'm not at all worried about Ty liking anyone else. I'm very secure in what we have, but for some reason, seeing her struck some kind of chord.

My guess is that it was your typical not-feeling-your-best kind of weekend for me - my hair was frizzed to the max, and I had no makeup on (hey, it was the weekend and I'm lazy). So for some reason, maybe my fleeting low self-esteem got the best of me.

Ty and I finally came up with a solution so this won't happen again (and no, it's not me taming my 'fro better and slapping on more rouge) - he said he's not going to be so blunt when it comes to talking about his past. If he had said she was a college friend, I don't think I would have had the same reaction. He's got plenty of female friends, which is no biggie.

But really, sometimes it's okay to not be so honest. I know honesty is super important in every relationship, but geez - I don't need a play-by-play of every past conquest this dude has had (for the record, this blog post intentionally left out additional details shared by my too-honest-for-his-own-good boyfriend. He may like to share it all, but I have a pretty good filter).

We'll see if that does it. And if not, there's always Jameson and getting hyphy.

Thanks a Lot, Ted Bundy

I made the mistake last weekend of watching a movie on Ted Bundy.

I watched it with Ty on Sunday and went home that evening. It was almost 9 p.m. and I was in the middle of cleaning up yet another pile of cat vomit (Cammie likes to remind me who's boss when I spend time away from my apartment), when I heard a knock at the door.

Not expecting anyone, I was instantly on high alert. I tiptoed to my door and peeked through the peephole. It was some young guy in a plaid shirt. Still weary from watching a movie on a serial killer, I immediately assumed this guy was donning a fake cast, would guilt me into "helping" him carry something and then bludgeon me to death. Oh and then do awful things post mortem.

The logical side of me told me the chances of this were slim, but I was still completely freaked out! Living alone is sometimes not all it's cracked up to be. And the worst part? That little ass knocked on my door TWO more times! Really?!? It's almost 9 p.m., you bastard. Some of us are grandmas and like to hit the hay early.

It wasn't very grandma-like what I did after he left, though. I quickly threw together some stuff, frantically called Ty and headed back over to his house for the night. I didn't want to stay home because I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep, even though the guy was gone (and most likely one of the pesky salespeople that plague my complex often), my door has a double deadbolt and, more importantly, I'm 26 freakin' years old.

I was so relieved when I arrived at Ty's house (and happy to catch up on some "Boardwalk Empire"). I may have taken self defense in college, but there's a certain security that comes with having a guy around (I know, I know. Revoke my Feminist Card now).

It's moments like those that remind me that I don't have to resist relying on people so much. I'm always trying so hard to be Miss Independent and not feel reliant on anyone but me. Those girls that turn to their significant others always disturbed me, and I've vowed to never be that damsel in distress.

And yet, having Ty around at that time to calm my fears (rational or not) made me see that it's OK to turn to a guy sometimes. It doesn't mean I'm not independent or incapable of being alone. I just like to feel safe, and in that moment, he made me feel that way.

Pretty weird, huh?

To Compare or Not to Compare

I'm generally pretty satisfied with myself and confident in my abilities, but I know it's human nature to question yourself from time to time.

Unfortunately, I recently started to compare myself to other people, which leads to no good.

Career Comparison
There are some people who can be the first to the office and last to leave. I am not one of these people, yet seeing their willingness to continue working until the wee hours of the evening makes me start to question my work ethic. Do I work hard enough? Am I not doing enough if I'm able to leave at 5:30 or 6? Also, why do certain people hold certain titles in the office? And why are some of the office "cliques" difficult to penetrate? I don't want to compare myself to others at work - it's too exhausting, and I have a job to do. All I can really do is continue doing my best, so that's what I've resolved. You gotta stay out of office politics or you'll go crazy!

Couple Comparison
You know those insanely happy-seeming people who boast about their love constantly? Yeah, they bug me too. But part of me envies their certainty (as I blogged about before) and ability to just let go and get mushy. Now, I'm not about to start using baby voices with Ty and tweeting every sweet thing he does for me, but I do start to compare my relationship to others when I see other people pouring their hearts out. Are Ty and I not happy enough if I'm not turning into a love-sick teenager? Are we doomed because I don't constantly tell people he's "The One"? Honestly, I think every relationship is different, and people show their love in different ways. Sure, I show my feelings and wear my heart on my sleeve, but I'm not about to post the lyrics to a Jason Mraz song on Ty's Facebook wall. I show I care by telling him I appreciate him and surprising him with his favorite beer. He shows his love by steam cleaning my carpets for me when I'm out of town (seriously! Best. Gift. Ever.) and letting me rant for hours about my feminist beliefs. It's the little things that count. So I just have to always remind myself of that every time I start to question if our relationship is "good enough."

Countenance Comparison
As big as my hair is and as much as I love to eat sweets, I'm pretty secure with my looks. I've never been one to diet, wear a lot of makeup or go crazy with my wardrobe. I'm a plain jane, but a comfortable plain jane at that. That said - I naturally have moments of low self esteem, such as the other night at the Sacramento Kings game. The dancers came out, and lo and behold, one of them is an ex of Ty's. He "nonchalantly" looked through his binoculars and claimed he was "looking for his friend in the stands." Riiiight. One look at this girl, and I instantly regretted that hot dog, pretzel and jumbo-sized beer I'd downed at the beginning of the game. Not to mention, my Casper skin tone was extra apparent at that moment. Of course, Ty tells me he prefers my looks (and brain!) to anyone he's ever dated, so I know that these bouts of body insecurity are juvenile. (Side note: apparently, this girl's IQ gave Snooki's a run for her money. Yes, I know this is irrelevant since she is long gone from Ty's life, but the mean girl in me can't help but feel a little smug).

I know I'm not perfect and there's always room for improvement, but comparing myself to others is not the way to get there. I just need to stay focused on the things I can control and block out that part of my mind that starts to compare. My new motto is to just "do me." Oh, wait....that came out wrong.

In Defense of Sluts

With all this hubbub going on over Rush Limbaugh unjustifiably calling a college student a "slut" and "prostitute" when she testified before a Congressional committee on why health insurance should cover birth control, I feel the need to respond to the outrage.

I rarely, if ever, take Rush seriously. He's an entertainer, not the voice of reason. So am I surprised he used such epithets? Absolutely not.

What gets my goat is this outpouring of people completely offended by him using the term "slut" toward a woman, and subsequently demanding that businesses pull their advertising from his show.

Why would a feminist be more upset over these people "defending" the college student than with Rush himself? Here's why: I don't even believe the idea of "sluttiness" exists. Nor do I believe we should continue to turn a woman's supposed sexual promiscuity into a pejorative.

It's the same idea as calling men out for "being like a girl" or "acting gay/like a fairy/[insert more homophobia here]." Why is it offensive to be a girl? And why is it such an insult to be gay? That's right - it's not.

So in that same way, who cares if a woman (or a man, for that matter) likes to get frisky from time to time? It's certainly none of my business what other people do (although I'm nosy, so I like to hear details anyway). I'm FED UP with women being judged by their sexual experience. It has no bearing on who women are as people, and one's private sexual behavior should not determine whether they are worthy of being loved, getting respect or being taken seriously. We ALL deserve respect, whether we're the Virgin Mary or Heidi Fleiss (well, maybe I won't go that far).

Now to get personal (but not too personal - my parents read this!): I was deemed a "late bloomer" by my peers when it came to getting my first kiss as a teenager. At the ripe old age of 15, I finally experienced this rite of passage behind my fence, braces and all. Before that, I was more than happy to share with people that I hadn't done that yet. There was nothing to be ashamed of! So what happened? I got called "prude" numerous times for years. Seriously?!

Fast forward to my 20s. One time I hooked up with 2 guys who were friends, each episode just a week apart. So what happened? I got called "dirty" and "easy" by a couple friends of mine (yes, not very good friends at the time, but both people have since apologized).

How is it that I can be judged for not doing things and then for doing things - you can't win either way! And therein lies the problem - I shouldn't be judged for acting one way or the other. I'm still a good person, a hard worker and a family girl. Who I am behind closed doors has no bearing on my worth.

So, whether you're a "prude" or a "slut," I say - wear it proudly! Ain't nothing wrong with it either way. That is, of course, unless you're partaking in any sort of sexual romping with Rush Limbaugh. Then yeah, you're a major whore.

Certain Certainty

In third grade, my friends and I were crushing hard on this guy Brian. He was an older man (fourth grader) and had dreamy blue eyes.

Not only that, but he had a way with words.

"Yo Tracy...you're ugly!"

And so began our love story. Soon after our first exchange of words, we began dating (clearly his "wooing" of me was an indicator that my self esteem was nonexistent). Our long, tenuous relationship (three days) eventually ended when I broke it off (a.k.a. I told a friend to tell one of his friends to tell him that we were no longer "going out").

I spent the rest of third grade, and even a part of fourth grade, wondering if I'd made the right choice.

Fast forward 17 years, and I still have issues sticking with relationships and being decisive.

Ty and I are happy - it's been 9 months, so we're still "new," and we're enjoying getting to know each other as time goes on. But inevitably, the question of "Will this last?" pops into my head, and doubt settles in.

I constantly worry about making the right choices in life, and my relationship choices are no different. At 26, I'm seeing friends get engaged, move in with their significant others, pop out kids (well, I'm not literally seeing the kids being born - ahh!). It's an age where society has this unwritten expectation that you "get serious" and figure out what you're going to do with your life forever and who you want it to be with.

That is daunting to me because I never like to feel "stuck." I mean, look at me - it took me forever to finally buy a car (and submit to car payments), and I plan on being an apartment/house renter for the foreseeable future. The permanence of certain choices is scary. I get nervous about taking a misstep and committing to something I'm not ready for.

So, here I am. In a 9-month relationship. We aren't close to moving in together, and we aren't close to getting engaged. So why does the idea of permanence freak me out? I think it's mostly a fear that comes from seeing others so certain.

I hear a lot of people say "Oh, I just knew he was the one" or "I have no doubts in mind that this is it". I was once someone who said those things - only to get my heart broken months later.

That conviction and certainty are something I have yet to get back, as much as I care about Ty. I don't think this really has to do with him - insert any guy into his position, and I'd still feel fearful. Thankfully, I don't receive direct pressure from anyone to take our relationship to the next level. We are both content with where it's at, and my parents aren't hounding me to produce grandkids anytime soon.

And my fears are calmed (for the time being) every time I remind myself that 1) I'm 26, not 86, and 2) I have the power to change anything I want at anytime. Nothing is really ever permanent. And that's something I'm certain of.

The F-Word

I think it's pretty safe to say I've been a feminist all my life.

Growing up in a progressive household, I always felt like I could do whatever I wanted and be whatever I wanted. It also helped that early on, my feminist beliefs were validated by the Spice Girls, so I proudly displayed various items emblazoned with "Girl Power," such as a t-shirt and a sparkly keychain on my mini-backpack.

Unfortunately, not everyone gets to grow up with that encouragement, and this, along with our culture's obsession with genderizing everything, is why people today think "feminism" is a bad word.

I've explained to numerous people, mostly guys, that "feminist" is simply a term for someone who believes in gender equality. Plain and simple. We aren't man haters, and we're not trying to take over the world and make men obsolete (although ask me on a day when I'm arguing with the boyfriend or witnessing the macho bravado of all the tools that live in Roseville - then I might be singing a different tune).

Feminism to me is just common sense. Men and women are equal and not limited to certain roles strictly based on gender. You want to be a stay-at-home mom or dad? Great! You want to go work full time and be a go-getter? Lovely. It's not all about women running around braless and lashing out at women who decide to stay at home. It's about choice and getting to be whatever we choose.

I feel like with my busy job, I've gotten away from being more in tune with what's going on. Not to mention, I've stopped volunteering for my domestic violence/sexual assault causes. Ugh, it makes me feel awful because I thoroughly enjoyed it, but this new schedule leaves me little time to even go to the bathroom, let alone lend a hand to others (I know, I know. Excuses!).

Fear not, because I am still the feminist I ever was - I get my feminist magazine, read my feminist blogs, buy feminist books, spout my feminist rhetoric to anyone who will listen (my cat). It is in no way a bad word - I'm a feminist and proud of it!

Busy Bee

The last couple months have been the busiest I've ever had. Let's see:

1) 2 people left my agency, meaning I'm now doing my job plus someone else's, plus a couple added items. Not to mention, someone has been on vacation this week, and I'm covering for her. I'm not quite sure who I am these days.

2) I bought a new car! Finally. No more hoopty for me.

 

3) I turned the big 2-6! I spent the day working, but I went to dinner that night with Ty at one of my fave places - Burgers & Brew. Then he showered me with several gifts (mainly practical stuff), followed by one last gift later in the night that he "forgot" to give me. It was a box of See's candy, and he insisted I open it so we could enjoy some chocolate. Oh, there was something in there worth much more than chocolate - not one but TWO of these awesome bracelets I've been wanting! I was inspired to get them after seeing Skyler from "Breaking Bad" wear them, and now I'm a proud owner of 2 Liquid Metal bracelets (Ty, who already racks up brownie points daily, went off the charts with this surprise).

My birthday continued on - I took that Friday off, and Ty & I headed to his Truckee cabin for some R&R, as well as a cooked dinner with my parents, sister and her boyfriend. BBQ chicken, BBQ veggies and potatoes, and a bundt cake with cream cheese frosting = perfection! Best of all, I got to be with my family. And the funny part was - my mom got me another Liquid Metal bracelet! I guess I wasn't as subtle about my wanting these bracelets after all. Thankfully, we can exchange it for a necklace I also like on the website. Woohoo!

4) Did I mention work is crazy? I've been dreaming about this major project for the last 3 nights in a row. Seriously - who dreams about conference logistics, binders and IT logins? This gal, that's who. This is actually just what I signed up for! All of this hard work will be channeled into a big event I get to go to for work next week - in Nashville!!! I'm staying at the Opryland Hotel for a blogger conference, and work aside, Rascal Flatts is going to be there! Oh, and one of the Jonas Brothers. But like I said, Rascal Flatts! I've got my boots and plaid shirt ready to go.