Things I Learned The Hard Way-Meme

Tagged via Lathum…

1) Give the gift BEFORE things are going bad.

Too many times, I have been in the situation where I was complacent and realized I was being a bad, and perhaps lame boyfriend. And I tried to make up for it but getting a good gift in time. This was dumb. I remember I bought this ex-gf of mine an amber bracelet(from Georgetowne Cotton for you Northern Virginians!). It was nice enough. But it broke. We got it replaced. It broke again. Clearly. not the place to get it right? Anyway, I was like what do you want? And she wanted me to pick it. (Which is right and natural.) Well, I was a stumblejohn. And didn’t end up getting something for her till she had already said she wanted to see other people. So what did I do? Go right out and buy this expensive silver necklace with some jewels on it(from the Smithsonian Magazine—they actually have some cool stuff in there). I forget what kind. She loved it. She just didn’t love me anymore.

2) Go ahead and ask her out.

Too many times in my life, I have been shy. I haven’t gone after that girl quite fast enough or direct enough, assuming that she was not interested. I have found out later, that many of these girls would have gone out with me. But it was too little, too late. Girls like a guy who’s aggressive, he’s going to tell them he likes them. Not like date rapist level aggression mind you, but you know, proactive. And besides, what does it matter if you strike out? As I’ve counselled my friends before.. at least there’s a story.

(Granted sometimes it’s a lame story. But you don’t have to tell that one. Save the good ones!)

I’ll give an example of my lame level of aggression. For senior year of h.s., I asked out a girl to Homecoming. She said yes. I assumed that we were going “as friends”. Date was fine, I danced with her, we had dinner. We double dated with my twin brother. Then while Brent was saying goodnight to his date, I walked mine to her stoop at her townhouse. I decided for some reason or other that I would be all Cary Grant and kiss her(get this) on the forehead. Now, I know now that is a really idiotic and redonkulous thing to do. First off, it is more fatherly than anything and that’s not the chord to you want to strike with some prospective girl. Secondly, when I went in aiming for her forehead, I realized that my date was indeed not thinking this was “as friends”. No, because how do I know? Because she went in for my lips. But as any math teacher worth his or her salt will tell you, when one person aims for the forehead and the other for the lips, you will meet somewhere in the middle. In this case, I got a big ol’ eye kiss. That’s right. I kissed her on the eye. Pretty sexy right? We recovered and I kissed quickly on the lips. But the damage was done. Later, I called her on the phone and expressed way too dramatically and emphatically that no no no no I WAS interested in her. And I drifted a little close to psycho range. But the effect was not unlike #1.

3) Never leave your money around an Austrailian who’s wearing purple briefs.

Granted, this is some pretty specific knowledge. But I bet it will come up more than you think. It’s like never play cards with a guy named Doc. But only more specific. It could prolly be distilled to don’t leave money around strangers. But it’s more fun this way.

I was in Ireland many years ago. I was in a hostel. I was by myself. In Waterford. (City of thieves?) I had gone out that night, went to an ATM, had a bunch of pound notes on me, was drunk and tired. So instead of locking up my stuff. I put my jeans underneath my bed and went to sleep. During the night, a nearly naked Austrailian man wearing purple tighty whities(only purple so I guess briefs is the better descriptor) climbed into bed to me. I shrieked. But manly ok? Turns out he had slept in my bed the night before. I looked around. All his friends were wearing purple briefs as well. (Was it a discount? Were they a team?) Who knows? I went to bed, he snored like a chainsaw on the bunk above me. That morning, I got a shower after everyone had left. Except for my purple bunkmate. I stupidly left my jeans under the bed in my pack. And while I was gone, he took all my money. EXCEPT… he left me like a ten pound note. (Out of like 120 that he stole). I thought that was nice. He also stole my smokes. But he left me the lighter. I guess the corollary of this is that Australians with purple briefs make considerate thieves.

Mostly, I was pissed because I had met this Irish boxer the night before and he had invited me to go see him in a local match. How interesting is that? But the next day after complaining to the front desk, I was conviced Waterford was a bad place to be. So I caught the next bus to County Cork. And I met some Dublin girls who asked me if I wanted a blow at 3 am. But that’s another story…

Here’s who I tagged next:

Mia Stendahl
Natasha Levinger
Katie Schorr
Birch Harms
Sheila O’Malley