There�s really no way to communicate today�s point that won�t be embarrassing and a little confusing, so I�m just going to get right to the point. Excuse me for one second while I choke down the last of my pride...okay, now I�m ready. So remember my boyfriend? Yeah. As it turns out, not actually my �boyfriend�. It�s really kind of funny if you think about it and you�re not me, but it turns out that when he said he wanted to �see each other exclusively�, he didn�t mean that he wanted to be �boyfriends�. Now, I know I�m not the most worldly person out there, so there�s every chance I�m missing a step, but...I�m having trouble seeing the distinction. I know there is one, because he specified it as such on Friday night, but a lack of clarity remains nonetheless.
Speaking of Friday night...I suppose now�s as good a time as any to report that my not-boyfriend is, oh, say, a little younger than me. Not, like, Mary Kay LeTourneau territory or anything, but...younger. To give you some contextual evidence, the other week he celebrated my 27th birthday with me, and on Friday night I went with him to a college keg party. I�m seriously about a moustache away from being the off-putting older guy whom everyone at the party kind of suspects of being a big perv, because why isn�t he dating someone his own age? Frankly, the age gap (five years, if you must know) isn�t the biggest deal in the world, but...dude. College. Party.
So after the keg had been tapped, the Jell-o shots had been sucked down, and the bulk of the attendees had barfed their way into the night, Clyde allowed to me in private that perhaps his wording (asking me to �go steady�) had been a trifle misleading, and so he wanted to clarify things. The �clarification� made me cock my head to the side like a confused spaniel, but still, I appreciate the head-on approach. It gave me the chance to call Lauren in advance of C�s birthday party the following night and ask her to spread the word so as to avoid any awkward moments when Clyde came with me. Such as, just for example, my having to call everyone I�ve talked to in the last week or so to tell them I was wrong in my belief of having a boyfriend. I swear half of my friends think I�m a total mental patient now, like I just made up a relationship to feel special, and now I have to cover my tracks in case anyone asks any tricky questions.
You may file this whole incident under Hilariously Humiliating Misconceptions, I guess. Right alongside the time in high school that my friend Theresa asked me if I wanted to go see a movie, and afterward we stopped by Pussy Galore�s house. PG asked us if we were on a date, and we gave her simultaneous and opposing responses. That was fun. I probably should have learned my lesson about clarity and loopholes at that juncture, but I�m evidently a sucker for drama.
Frankly, in some ways, this new wrinkle is kind of a good thing, though. I mean, just generally speaking, if I�m dating someone at all seriously, I�m exclusive anyway�the way I see it is that if I don�t care enough to be exclusive? He�s not the guy for me�but having The Talk (about commitment) so early on was just a smidge disquieting. Conversely, having the Emergency We�re Not Boyfriends chat was similarly disquieting, only in a different way. I�ve gotten that talk before, the subtext of which was �I�d like to have sex with you regularly, but keep the engine running in case I freak out, so I don�t have to feel guilty or obligated to you in any way.� Now, just based on what I know about him, I don�t think that�s Clyde�s agenda (TMI alert: we haven�t actually...you know, yet) but it�s a bit of a yellow flag. Anyway, time will tell. His intentions still seem honorable.
Oh, but before I sign off, let me give you all a bit of advice. Last night, Clyde made some incidental remark about how your mid-twenties is approximately when you start developing bags under your eyes. A little curious as to where this was leading, I asked him point blank if he was trying to say that I had baggy eyes, and he replied, �No, no! You�ve just got those sexy dark creases!� And I�m sending this little bulletin out to all potential suitors everywhere: just because you toss in the word �sexy�? DOESN�T MAKE IT A COMPLIMENT.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: tenure on the Titanic I�m Watching: The Jacket. It�s like Twelve Monkeys meets The Butterfly Effect, but neither as well done as the former or as poorly done (and thusly entertaining) as the latter. I�m Buying: A new razor. As I told the gathered at C�s birthday party, mine is so old I look like I�ve been shaving with a bobcat.