Sunday, December 23, 2012

Take a Look at My Girlfriend...

I have an announcement.

A lot of people know already because it's not intended to be a secret. Those of you who have not yet been informed, don't take it personally, I just haven't seen you or had the opportunity to tell you yet. As you can imagine, it's kind of really awkward to be having a perfectly normal conversation with someone and suddenly interject with "By the way, I now have a girlfriend. Surprise! Now what were you saying about the tyrosine residue on that receptor?"

Right? Awkward. 

Anyways, I can practically hear people thinking "Wait, what? Oh my God, what happened to you? I never saw this coming!" and to be honest, I didn't either but I guess this is as close to "coming out" as I'll ever get. My sexuality is no one's business but my own. I'm not attracted to women. I'm attracted to Woman. I'm still inclined to ogle the mangoods, but less so now because I am distracted by finer things...or thing as it were (OK it is very uncomplimentary to call her a thing, but y'all know what I mean). I also understand that this is not news that all will accept with open arms and am fully prepared to be shunned, but on the bright side, I have found that this is a quick and easy way to separate the friends worth having from those who are simply convenient or circumstantial. I know that many of you will have questions and I am happy to field them all, just give me a call/text/FB message. I won't be offended...unless they are truly ignorant or subtly accusatory questions. Then I may flip a shit. This is not something I am ashamed about, in fact, if the whole world felt the emotions this relationship gives me, musicals may begin to happen in real life. Musicals of obnoxious Legally Blonde proportions. 

But I digress, this post isn't supposed to be about me. Let me lay down a bit of background first. There are a few people in my life, namely my family, that I was reluctant to tell. "It's different when it's family." I was afraid about how our relationship would change, how they would worry about my future, and I confess, there was even a sliver of fear that I might be disowned. Long story short, for the most part, my family took it well. I wouldn't say they were enthused or supportive of my new relationship, but my Dad stated the bottom line the best: "No matter what, you are my daughter, and I love you." That, of course, made me bawl, but again, story for another time. In terms of what I was expecting, it was the best case scenario. However, in terms of what I was hoping for, I will admit that I was a little disappointed. I love my family and I'm crazy about this girl who is now a big part of my life. Naturally, I want nothing more than to be able to tell my family all about her -- why she's amazing, why I am the luckiest, and why they should be happy for me. Still, baby steps I suppose. So, I guess this post is going to be about all the things I want to tell my family that they're not ready to hear yet. Readers beware, beyond lies diabetes-inducing sappiness...

I've liked this girl for an entire semester. An entire semester wasted agonizing over my sexuality, her sexuality--is she or isn't she...more importantly, am I? When I finally worked up the balls  vagina to tell her, I had three weeks left before Christmas break. This was my plan: 1.) Tell her I liked her. 2.) Apologize profusely. 3.) Ask to still be friends. 4.) Run.

In the end, I only managed to accomplish one of those steps. I told her over text. Then I ran.

She chased me down like I was a gimpy gazelle. We talked. And in the end, she likes me too. Three months. Wasted. I took my sweet time figuring things out and dragging my feet, and now we only had three weeks to figure out what we wanted. That was also the day she asked me to be her girlfriend.

Even though I had one last round of midterms then finals and she had work, we managed to steal time away to see each other every day during those three weeks. Some days, she literally had to set a timer for ten minutes because we would never get any work done otherwise. For our first "real" date (I still say Chipotle was our first date), we went to the aquarium where she proceeded to try to touch every fish in an open tank (I was mortified) while we plotted to kidnap a turtle. Other nights, we would watch American Horror Story together. I would watch, terrified, peeking out from behind her shoulder while she would cackle with glee every time something particularly gory happened on screen...that is if she wasn't dozing off, leaving me alone to deal with the horror of Bloody Face.

When I'm not with her, I'm inevitably thinking about her. I realized how much of a problem this is during Finals week when everyone else around me was studying while I laid on the couch moping in her absence. I'm ridiculous, I know, but I couldn't really bring myself to give a flying fuck. I had three measly weeks with her, and I didn't want to lose any of those precious moments to studying. She is clearly the more rational one in this relationship. She cut me off until I gave in and studied. CURSE YOU, BIOCHEM. I didn't want to study enzyme kinetics or memorize the symptoms of multiple sclerosis, I would have much rather devoted my time to memorizing every nuance about her. I joke that she has completely destroyed my previously uncanny ability to multitask. Whenever I'm with her, I tend to fall stupidly silent, just staring in awe at her face when I think she's not looking. Of course, this makes for very awkward moments when I get caught and try to pretend that I am not a creep. I don't even know why I bother, I'm 99% sure she already knows and it almost concerns me how OK she is with it. She might even think it's cute. Strange.

I have lists in my head of things she likes and dislikes, and I add things to them everyday.

She likes ice cream (Ben and Jerry's Half-Baked but Caramel Sutra is an acceptable substitute) for breakfast. She loves chocolate and would eat an entire bag of Snickers if she didn't have a terrifying sense of self-control. She likes Ke$ha and Cher Lloyd, and though it shames me to admit it, her influence is causing me to find them increasingly more tolerable. She reads the Savage Love column and our horoscopes with me every week. Gorey horror movies are her favorite and her idea of a quality movie involves an old gypsy woman getting stapled in the eye while she toothlessly gnaws on some poor girl's face. She likes to crunch on ice cubes (ice chips ideally for optimum consumption) and has mastered the art of cramming an entire ice tray into a single water bottle. She likes honey and likes stealing/recruiting people to appropriate them from the FFC even more. She can eat a shitload of pineapple. She can eat almost an entire Ledo's cheese pizza but her favorite is still Hop Deli. Mr. Preston will always hold a special place in her heart. I could go on, but I'll spare you....and her. ;}

She drives with one hand so I can hold the other one.

She hates her hair but she'll occasionally let it down because she knows I love it.

She'll drive all the way to my place after working a 15-hour shift just so we can spend 10 minutes together.

She offered to watch The Hobbit with me even though Lord of the Rings puts her to sleep...or makes her walk out of the theatres. This still pains me to talk about.

She "pretends" to be ticklish because she knows it amuses me.

I'll never be able to watch Dirty Dancing again without grinning like an idiot. I can never say "salmon" again without laughing hysterically.

When my cell phone gives off the text alert, I immediately dive over any obstacles in my haste to get it. If it's not her, I brood and glare at the phone until I am appeased. 4600 texts since September, redonk.


If possible, I have a bigger announcement: I am dating a vegetarian. And ask me how many fucks I give? None! That's how crazy I am about her. I like her more than MEAT. (le gasp!)


But seriously, guys? I am the luckiest.

She knows that I can't read time, that I can't do math, that I can't drive, that I'm scared of Santas, that I'd rather watch TV/play Tetris than study, that I have had a torrid love affair with romance novels, that I have a tendency to trip down the stairs or off the sidewalk, and she still accepts me for who I am. This is still mind-blowing to me. When I woke up that first morning after That Night, I giggled to myself for an entire minute because I couldn't believe that this was real life. It was very unattractive.


It's 2 AM and I'm still awake gushing about her. She tends to have this effect on me.


I've had Billy Joel's "For the Longest Time" stuck in my head ALL day.


So as you can see, clearly I am ecstatic. I am thankful. I am blessed. And now I am sleepy.



I hope you all can be happy for me. And if not...just don't tell me. I promise I won't mind. :) Good night!
























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