So I've written multiple times about my "dating extravaganzas". Eventually I will post those, because I still laugh out loud when I read them. But not tonight.
A few years ago, I ended my first REAL relationship, and it HURT badly. It was seriously as if someone died. One minute I was planning my future, white picket fence, chubby cheeked kids, 8-5 job, and who knows, maybe even some fish.
And the next I was packing my poochie Claire Francis in the front seat (along with the 1,000 items I had collected at his house... minus my precious seashells which he will still not give back) and we were on the road. I think I left him a note: "Call me if you want." For some reason, I have a ton of tolerance for people, how to approach them, how to say things politely, how to avoid hurt feelings... and then I just forget my manners. We spoke two times after that Saturday, and then basically never again. He has knocked on the door a few times, trying to forge a friendship of sorts, but honestly and sadly, when it was over, it was just OVER.
After the breakup, I started dating. I dated all sorts, had some fun times, had some TERRIBLE times, went through some DRAMATIC moments, some CATASTROPHES, a few embarassing bloopers, some very bruised egos, and lots of learned lessons.
My dating blog is a tad blunt... often a little too honest, and probably a bit inappropriate. But it was my life... I called it the "dating extravaganza", because to me, that's what it was.
Then I met Aaron. Pretty much since day #4 of knowing him (I would say day #3, but I really tried to avoid him for a week (which is actually 7 days). I liked the guy, but I was TOTALLY not done with my dating extravaganza, and he just made me a little too nervous... which makes me think I actually knew on day #1... so we'll just do a middle ground and call it day 4.), I knew my dating days were over. The extravaganza of "dudes" was no longer going to be a part of my plan. I knew that, for some reason, things were going to be a bit different from now on.
Aaron has changed my life. Like I said before, I have become an expert at pleasing people, making friends (not always good ones), and REALLY TRULY getting to know those around me. But I think that through this process, I have only learned a fraction about myself. I have made jokes, I have had temper tantrums, I have cried, I have fallen down hard, and I have picked myself back up again, over and over. And yet, through all of these very real experiences, I STILL don't think I have ever been all that true to myself.
The truth is that I am the extravaganza. According to my best friend, who we will call the "internet", the word extravaganza means "an elaborate, spectacular entertainment or display". This sounds like a pretty confident way of describing one's self, but in my case, it's just true. Let me explain:
"Elaborate" - In this setting, elaborate is used as an adjective, meaning "intricate or rich in detail, executed with painstaking attention". I will actually replace this word with my own self-created list of synonyms: corky, strange, high-maintenance, obsessive, needy, dramatic, pushy, opinionated, stubborn (jeez, I'm getting way off here.), etc. They aren't all really synonyms of elaborate, but they might as well be.
I am corky. My dog has a middle name, and I talk to her like she's a human. Because I really do think she speaks English. I do.
I am strange. I count all day long. Or type in my head. Or sing songs to words. Some sort of OCD that has never really gone away.
I am high-maintenance. I could care less about gifts, money, jewelry, or the normal things that lots of women want. But I have to be reminded constantly that I am loved. And even when I am, I sometimes ask for more. And not just loved, but liked. And wanted. And sometimes needed.
I am obsessive. I can have the messiest house in the whole world, and I don't care if my socks match. But I floss a minimum of three times a day. And if my skin is even the teeny tiniest bit dry, I will literally dump lotion all over my body because I cannot stand it.
I am needy. I don't ask for much, only that you pay me 110% attention, and think about me all the time, and call me whenever you can, and you know, attend to all my one million needs. LOL.
I am dramatic. I have a terrible temper, and God forbid I get my feelings hurt, you better be prepared to make things better or I can go on forever being angry. This characteristic scares me a lot.
I am pushy. Sometimes I really think I'm right, and even if I'm not, I'm probably going to at LEAST try to make you think I am.
I am opinionated. I was once at a dinner table where the other dinner attendees referred to me as the "dirty liberal". I will never vote conservative again. And by the way, I still put my two cents in at that table... Oops.
I am stubborn. Similar to the description above, when I think I am right, I have a hard time convincing myself to listen to what I'm being told. Even when I know I'm going down the wrong path, I pretty much have to learn the hard way or I'll just keep going and going and going...
"Spectacular entertainment or display" - This phrase is actually really intuitive to how I feel and have felt the majority of my life. Like I said, I am a people pleaser. I have always felt the need to impress, to pass, to fulfill obligations, to win, to succeed, or even just to survive.
I feel like times in my life I did a "spectacular" job with my "display". I've played all the parts: The good student. The friend. The rebel. The nerd. The fun girl looking for a party. The injured girl needing help. The vulnerable girl looking for a hero. The businesswoman. The difficult girl, full of attitude. The flirt. The playmate. The enemy. The independent one, needing nothing and no one.
I could name them off forever, but honestly, you name the part and I will play it.
I am an extravaganza... all by myself. I am sometimes one big mess. But I am who I am.
I started writing this a few weeks ago, and I'm sure I had some sort of funny story to tell with it. But tonight I am sad, and thoughtful about myself and where I am. I have met a man, who I think is wonderful, kind, loving, giving, smart, funny, protective, comforting, etc. etc. etc. He loves my little Claire Francis. He doesn't mind that I'm a bit OCD. He laughs at my mismatched socks and the crazy amount of floss lying around the house. He pays me all SORTS of attention, and shouts his love for me to the world (via Facebook of course, duh). He deals with my temper and assures me that he will still be here when I am done kicking and screaming. He lets me be bossy sometimes, but puts me in my place when I need it. He's just as stubborn as I am, but never enough to let me go.
A few years ago, I ended my first REAL relationship, and it HURT badly. It was seriously as if someone died. One minute I was planning my future, white picket fence, chubby cheeked kids, 8-5 job, and who knows, maybe even some fish.
And the next I was packing my poochie Claire Francis in the front seat (along with the 1,000 items I had collected at his house... minus my precious seashells which he will still not give back) and we were on the road. I think I left him a note: "Call me if you want." For some reason, I have a ton of tolerance for people, how to approach them, how to say things politely, how to avoid hurt feelings... and then I just forget my manners. We spoke two times after that Saturday, and then basically never again. He has knocked on the door a few times, trying to forge a friendship of sorts, but honestly and sadly, when it was over, it was just OVER.
After the breakup, I started dating. I dated all sorts, had some fun times, had some TERRIBLE times, went through some DRAMATIC moments, some CATASTROPHES, a few embarassing bloopers, some very bruised egos, and lots of learned lessons.
My dating blog is a tad blunt... often a little too honest, and probably a bit inappropriate. But it was my life... I called it the "dating extravaganza", because to me, that's what it was.
Then I met Aaron. Pretty much since day #4 of knowing him (I would say day #3, but I really tried to avoid him for a week (which is actually 7 days). I liked the guy, but I was TOTALLY not done with my dating extravaganza, and he just made me a little too nervous... which makes me think I actually knew on day #1... so we'll just do a middle ground and call it day 4.), I knew my dating days were over. The extravaganza of "dudes" was no longer going to be a part of my plan. I knew that, for some reason, things were going to be a bit different from now on.
Aaron has changed my life. Like I said before, I have become an expert at pleasing people, making friends (not always good ones), and REALLY TRULY getting to know those around me. But I think that through this process, I have only learned a fraction about myself. I have made jokes, I have had temper tantrums, I have cried, I have fallen down hard, and I have picked myself back up again, over and over. And yet, through all of these very real experiences, I STILL don't think I have ever been all that true to myself.
The truth is that I am the extravaganza. According to my best friend, who we will call the "internet", the word extravaganza means "an elaborate, spectacular entertainment or display". This sounds like a pretty confident way of describing one's self, but in my case, it's just true. Let me explain:
"Elaborate" - In this setting, elaborate is used as an adjective, meaning "intricate or rich in detail, executed with painstaking attention". I will actually replace this word with my own self-created list of synonyms: corky, strange, high-maintenance, obsessive, needy, dramatic, pushy, opinionated, stubborn (jeez, I'm getting way off here.), etc. They aren't all really synonyms of elaborate, but they might as well be.
I am corky. My dog has a middle name, and I talk to her like she's a human. Because I really do think she speaks English. I do.
I am strange. I count all day long. Or type in my head. Or sing songs to words. Some sort of OCD that has never really gone away.
I am high-maintenance. I could care less about gifts, money, jewelry, or the normal things that lots of women want. But I have to be reminded constantly that I am loved. And even when I am, I sometimes ask for more. And not just loved, but liked. And wanted. And sometimes needed.
I am obsessive. I can have the messiest house in the whole world, and I don't care if my socks match. But I floss a minimum of three times a day. And if my skin is even the teeny tiniest bit dry, I will literally dump lotion all over my body because I cannot stand it.
I am needy. I don't ask for much, only that you pay me 110% attention, and think about me all the time, and call me whenever you can, and you know, attend to all my one million needs. LOL.
I am dramatic. I have a terrible temper, and God forbid I get my feelings hurt, you better be prepared to make things better or I can go on forever being angry. This characteristic scares me a lot.
I am pushy. Sometimes I really think I'm right, and even if I'm not, I'm probably going to at LEAST try to make you think I am.
I am opinionated. I was once at a dinner table where the other dinner attendees referred to me as the "dirty liberal". I will never vote conservative again. And by the way, I still put my two cents in at that table... Oops.
I am stubborn. Similar to the description above, when I think I am right, I have a hard time convincing myself to listen to what I'm being told. Even when I know I'm going down the wrong path, I pretty much have to learn the hard way or I'll just keep going and going and going...
"Spectacular entertainment or display" - This phrase is actually really intuitive to how I feel and have felt the majority of my life. Like I said, I am a people pleaser. I have always felt the need to impress, to pass, to fulfill obligations, to win, to succeed, or even just to survive.
I feel like times in my life I did a "spectacular" job with my "display". I've played all the parts: The good student. The friend. The rebel. The nerd. The fun girl looking for a party. The injured girl needing help. The vulnerable girl looking for a hero. The businesswoman. The difficult girl, full of attitude. The flirt. The playmate. The enemy. The independent one, needing nothing and no one.
I could name them off forever, but honestly, you name the part and I will play it.
I am an extravaganza... all by myself. I am sometimes one big mess. But I am who I am.
I started writing this a few weeks ago, and I'm sure I had some sort of funny story to tell with it. But tonight I am sad, and thoughtful about myself and where I am. I have met a man, who I think is wonderful, kind, loving, giving, smart, funny, protective, comforting, etc. etc. etc. He loves my little Claire Francis. He doesn't mind that I'm a bit OCD. He laughs at my mismatched socks and the crazy amount of floss lying around the house. He pays me all SORTS of attention, and shouts his love for me to the world (via Facebook of course, duh). He deals with my temper and assures me that he will still be here when I am done kicking and screaming. He lets me be bossy sometimes, but puts me in my place when I need it. He's just as stubborn as I am, but never enough to let me go.
And he is an extravaganza as well. He is just as complicated, just as needy, just as strange, just as opinionated, just as high-maintenance as I am. He is a people pleaser, never wanting to disappoint anyone. He's fearful of what other people think, just like I am. He makes his own way and his own decisions, whether they are good or bad, just like I do. He has lived and experienced, and probably had a few catastrophes, bloopers, bruised egos, dramatic events, and heartbreaks, just like I have.
And I love him so much. We are going to struggle. And fight. And butt heads. And lose tempers. And get irritated. But at the end of the day, I still never want to date again. I have no other boundaries to break. Or personalities to pick apart. Or dorky "dudes" to make fun of.
I met Aaron, and on day #4 I knew. I am okay. 
And I love him so much. We are going to struggle. And fight. And butt heads. And lose tempers. And get irritated. But at the end of the day, I still never want to date again. I have no other boundaries to break. Or personalities to pick apart. Or dorky "dudes" to make fun of.
I met Aaron, and on day #4 I knew. I am okay.
