Boyz to Men

Come on, admit it, you LOVE this band.....I mean, everyone does, right? It is a totally intriguing name when it comes to R & B jams and a bunch of men in matching clothes from the 90's, but in life, there is a bit more to it than that.

So, when do boys turn IN to men?

I have been wondering this for some time. When is that wonderful age when they stop shotgunning beer and farting the alphabet? It turns out that there is really no one time, it is instead different for each kind of guy. My roomate, H, sums it up as more of a phase-thing. For example, a guy (I use this non-descript word for a male specimen with undocumented boy or man status) can either be in his 'single college' phase or he could have transitioned into the 'serious relationship' phase. You have to be on the look out for this, almost as much as someone in Texas looks out for rain on the forecast as they approach a record-breaking streak of drought. You can pick up on these phases with the following signs:

A guy is in the single-college phase if:
-He wears a backward hat
-Lives with 4 or more people
-Uses words like 'bro' or 'stellar'
-Nods his head at people, as though to acknowledge them without words
-Wants to get tattoos that involve some kind of snake/dragon (this is always a red flag)
-He plays video games three or more times a week
-Pizza is a food group
-He slaps your back when you hug him
-He drools and tries to lodge his tongue down your throat as though it is a medical examination
-He continues working non-stop part-time gigs and loses his wallet on numerous dating excursions
-He refers to your job as being 'real' and you are really 'grown-up'
-He calls you seven times between 2:32 a.m. and 4:29 a.m.
-He grabs your ass when cuddling (if cuddling happens at all) and/or doesn't look you in the eye while hooking up
-He calls you 'sexy lips' or 'my lady'
-His friends have lime on their breath from doing body shots of of sorority girls the night before
-He owns a dog and lets it drink from the beer bong

A guy is in the serious-relationship phase if:
-He buys his own home
-He has decorations in his living space/bedroom
-Owns a button-down shirt and wears it regularly
-Prefers a beer over 'shot shot, shot shot shot' (please think of the song when reading sequential shot writings)
-Enjoys things like salmon or any other kind of fish
-He enjoys watching sunsets
-Owns a pair of genuinely nice leather shoes
-He holds you tight when you hug him
-He gently kisses your neck, eyes, cheeks.......sigh
-He has a career-oriented job that makes him fulfilled enough not to want to fly to San Fran to jump off the Golden Gate with animated hand gestures
-He calls you at 9:00 p.m. to tell you, once again, what a wonderful time he had at dinner with you
-He plays with your hair and moves his arm up in anticipation of you wanting to 'lie in the nook'
-He calls you 'baby' and 'honey' (we hope nothing sicker starts, like 'shnookums')
-His friends like to play pool and have a beer on the weekends
-He owns a dog and takes it to the dog park

These are just some general tips to look out for that I have found. It is amazing how guys, when they allow themselves to transition into the serious phase, change their actions. Suddenly, women are less disposable plastic objects and become these lifelike whimsical creatures that they want to hold onto.

My other roomate, N, has been having some problems in the guy world, just like me. I mean, let's face it, it's tough out there. Between online dating, meeting guys downtown at bars and the occasional set-up, it feels as though there aren't any good men left on the planet (and of course all the ones you fall in love with instantly are married). I went on a lot weird, awkward dates last year, and the only one that sort of worked out only lasted three months. I often wonder, are these three-month relationships really good or did they just destroy me a little bit more? I don't know....I guess as long as I don't start hissing at all men then I'm not too bitter, right? I think we all just want to be JILTED by a great love. Is that so much to ask for? I mean, why does Mandy Moore always get the happy ending?

I think both of us, N and I, thought that as we got older guys would finally mature and enter into the next phase. It seems that this isn't always the case. Sometimes they are 25 when they transition (like H's boyfriend), but other times they are 32 and they only transition after all their friends get married and they realize they have the maximum subscription to Netflix. It just takes time and faith to meet the right guy. I think it is also important to not have a set-in-stone list of the guy you want to be with. For example, the last guy I dated hit almost all of my wishlist, such as: drove a truck, had his own place, was a country boy, owned dogs, was incredibly smart, was quiet/tortured, was a great snuggler.......and so forth (weep, sniffle) with some added bonuses of: opened my door, was a great kisser, loved driving me around everywhere, was happy to hang out in groups with my friends. But, he was SO not right for me, and I think I should STOP pretending I know what's perfect for me. After all, it has taken me 25 years just to find out what clothes are the right fit on me, so why should I be so presumptuous as to think I know what man will contour to me?

So keep up the good fight ladies (and you guys, too), because I think the relationship gods have a cruel sense of humor but are saps at heart. There IS someone for all of us out there, just don't be upset if he isn't over 6 feet like you'd envisioned......

Bleach It

OK, so don't judge me, but I have gone and bleached/dyed my hair blond. Well, alright, it already WAS a little blond, but I did highlights and now I am like Barbie blond. As though I needed any more fuel for the 'locavore' Austin fire, being from Cali and all, but now I look like the kind of person that may have surf wax in her purse or something. But, then again, Texans do love the crazy blond, big-haired thing. It's OK though, I think it adds that bit of zest to things in my life (not that I am too short on that right now). I have started school and it feels amazing to be actually doing something with my time. I mean, hey, I am all for long afternoons where I nuzzle up with the spine of a book, but I do need more than that, too.

Work is strangely exhilarating. I mean, who knew that setting up my class and attending department and team meetings could get me so thrilled? It's kind of sick really. I even know that I am that irritating 'young-en' that is always smiling and has the energy of a Cocker Spaniel. I'm sure it will pass by the end of next week, but right now I'm having way too much fun wearing pencil skirts and using academic acronyms. Bleh, I am a sad, sad case aren't I?

I guess there is a reason for my new highlights. I said goodbye to someone that for some reason I was hanging onto. Sort of like those scabs that you keep on because, hey, you kind of like that people think you're a badass. But really, you need to just pluck it off and throw it in the bin. So, I did that, but it looked more like me tip-toeing up to his porch and dropping his fabulously baggy gray sweatpants on the doorstep along with a note that made me seem more mature than I'm really feeling. So...the next night, I scheduled a hair appointment and BAM! I am back in action. I am a sassy gal and I have sassy hair so whatcha gotta say about it?

It has been miserably hot. I mean, I may-peel-off-my-shirt-in-front-of-a-stranger-just-to-get-a breeze-from-their-open-aghast-mouth kind of hot. The A/C at my school is on 'low', as in, low on cost not low in temperature. So, not only do I get to see my fabulous colleagues, but I get to smell them as well (and I am not excluding myself from the stench by any means).

It is amazing to go back to a place and realize, hey, I know people here and I don't think they hate me too much. In fact, this morning, when I walked into the ELA District Meeting, a new women from my school raised her hand up immediately and rushed me over with a grin as though I had coffee beans grinding in my chest. She was alone, granted, and may have asked Charles Manson to join the group, but she noticed me and I was equally glad to be welcomed by her. Then, the other people from our school came in. I got to see them, one by one, make eye contact with me and start in my direction, as though I were somehow part of their directional purpose. It was kind of cool.

Anyways, I am actually exhausted now that I am at home, in my room, and in the cool-ish air that somehow flows in magic whisps around my room in icy chunks. I picked up a book that my dear friend Roger gave me and now it sits, on my bed, awaiting my arrival and my sweet grasp on its cover. (Has anyone noticed my talk of books is becoming sexual? No? OK good.)

That is all for now. No real theme to this post, but they don't make sticky notes big enough for my ranting brain OK?