Tuesday, January 28, 2014

friendzone level: eponine


There is a place, dark, deep, guarded by the fires of Mordor. A prison, that once condemned to, is seemingly impossible to be escaped. Its like being thrown into The Pit, and you're Frodo, facing Emperor Palpatine, alone, because Sam ate Nightlock--all comprehension of the hope of one day casting the ring into the lava, restoring peace to the galaxy, and climbing those treacherous walls to sweet loving freedom is dead, just like Bruce Wayne's parents. And Harry's parents. Also, Elsa's. Or Clark's. Wow, no one has parents anymore...

....Yes, I know how nerdy I am. No, I don't wonder why I am single. But I'll let you ask me out if you understand every reference in this entire post. There are 9.

Such a dimension is one we all unfortunately know, and all have been thrown into before. It's a place we condemn others to. It's the worst.

How do you know if you're in this realm? Here are the most likely clues:


1. Her period and all the gory details are shared with you.

2. You gentleman of interest offers to set you up with other guys.

3. She farts in front of you. (except we all know that girls don't really fart--we whisper in our panties)

4. You are told, "you're like a brother to me!"

5. Tom Hansen is the most relateable character from 500 Days of Summer. Without the benefits. (If you relate best to Summer, you are probably satan)

6. *Send her a cute text, she responds, "aw, that's sweet."

7. Homeboy calls you "dude"

8. He asks you to get him in contact with the blonde mystery babe, even though you have covered your hair and wrapped up your lady curves to fight in a battle that he helped to spearhead. After you sang a ballad about him.

9. She tells you all the details about her love life...which you are obviously not a part of...

10.  Most obviously, if he/she wears crocs in front of you.

Tips for navigating away from this horrific place? First and foremost, take my advice about HOW TO AVOID THE FRIENDZONE. Make a move, ask her out. FLIRT. Twirl that hair, girl. Otherwise, this is probably inevitable and you should probably stop reading my blog, because it's about dating, and you my friend, are just that---a friend.

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

a letter

Dear Elder,

I know you are back from your mission, many of you have been back for some time, and for those of you who have not yet left--I am writing to you on behalf of the ladies who have waited patiently to marry someone like you.

First of all, I want you to know why it's significant that many of us would like to marry men that have served missions. Most importantly, you have been asked to serve by divine revelation to the prophets, who are messengers of our Heavenly Father. You are literally commissioned by God the Father to do so. To not is a huge sign of open rebellion. I understand there are various reasons why some of you can't go or must come home early, so if that is the case, please understand that such outstanding circumstances beyond your control don't penalize you. I am talking frankly about those who have the opportunity and means to serve, and willfully choose not to go. Not only is it a task requested of you by the Lord, it is also a growing experience that is arguably impossible to replace. Think of the souls you could have saved, but chose, for whatever reason, be it school, career, a girl, or mere selfish indulgence, to let wait longer, or miss their chance to hear the truth in this life. Try to imagine the spirit(s) that you may have made a promise to find in the pre-mortal life, that you have let down. I have not been on a mission, so I am carefully treading dangerous waters. However, while I have not served a full time mission for the Church, I have dated many gentlemen who have. I know so many young men that both have, and have not served missions. In fact, every guy I have ever dated has been a return missionary, except one. That one told me he didn't see the problem with premarital sex. Try not to misunderstand, I am not saying that's the viewpoint of every man who didn't serve a mission and it may be the viewpoint of many who have,  and I absolutely do not, in any way think boys that don't serve missions are bad people-but I say with honest conviction that there was a difference. Its not something entirely easy to explain, but it was different.

At this time, I would like to present you with a question: for those of you young men that did make the choice to serve a faithful, honest mission, can you remember why? Why did you serve a mission? Did you serve because your parents wanted you to? Was it because your surrounding community expected you to? Or was it because you had a desire to be obedient? Maybe you didn't want to go, but you wanted to obey the council of the prophets. Just think.

This next part, I hesitate to write. I don't mean to get on a high horse, and it is not my intention to persecute, demean, or belittle any of God's children. Upon recent reflection and conversations with close girl friends, I am utterly in awe at the way women are treated by some of you returned missionaries. I understand that women can treat men poorly, and that although we are not all victims, my heart is broken again and again to hear and experience the mistreatment of people. In a society so twisted, so confused, I would hope that Church members could find solace in each other. I wish now, to speak to the trusting girl that is taken advantage of by men who have returned from missions. In particular, I reach out to the naive girl who went to institute one night and met a cute boy there that taught seminary every morning, worked at the MTC, and got back from his mission a couple years previous. He asked her if he could take her on a date. She graciously, trustingly, accepted his offer. This is a girl that in the many years I have known her, has always tried her hardest to be temple worthy, to follow the commandments, who is far from perfect, but has kept herself chaste and virtuous. Simply minutes after he picked her up and started driving, he began expressing how attractive and sexy he thought she was. She started to feel uncomfortable, but despite her best efforts to change the subject, he was not interested in discussing anything but her body. He drove out a way to a lake and stopped the car. The girl grew very nervous and started to feel uneasy. The boy reached across the seats to put his hands all over her, kissing where his mouth could reach. Struggling to get free, pleading for him to stop, she finally managed to get her seat belt off and got out of the car, where she immediately started walking home. Gropey McGee followed her and tried to coax her back into his vehicle, apologizing, promising it wouldn't happen again and that he would just take her home. Knowing she shouldn't trust him, but with no service and it being the dead of winter, she went against her better judgement and walked towards the car. He came up behind her and started kissing her neck, trying to put his hands in places he shouldn't. She tried to stop him, but he was stronger than her and physically held her against the car. By a miracle she managed to get away and get home with all her clothes intact.

I honestly don't understand how a girl in Provo, Utah--Mormon capital of the universe, can't trust an RM to protect her. I have two older sisters that are still in the dating world, and a younger sister that just turned 16, (legal Mormon dating age.) If the aforementioned man had tried something like that on one of my sisters, excuse my French, I would have snapped off his cajones and boiled them in motor oil. If we, as ladies, cannot trust you men that dedicated two years of your lives, serving others, who can we trust? How is it possible to have been so incredibly selfless for two years, and come back and be so indescribably selfish? This is a real, honest to goodness question. How does a man go from teaching families and individuals about the plan of happiness, and then attempt to destroy a woman's virtue? I am careful in trying not to lump all returned missionaries in this group of self destructive men (and women,) I am just trying to understand why the majority of first dates that I myself, as well as many of my friends have been on, are.

Life is hard. The world is full of evil. We all face challenges and adversity every day. I personally, make a habit of totaling cars. But let's focus specifically on dating. Where, in a world of prostitutes, pimps, drug dealers, and even with gay marriage, can the women who are striving to make it to the temple, turn to be protected? Who can we trust? Who do we want to love? Someone that will take us to the temple. Whether anyone agrees with my stance on serving a mission or not, any devout, faithful, converted member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints that believes in the plan of happiness wants to be married in the temple.

The purpose of this letter is not to point fingers and degrade. It is to plead. I am literally begging you young men of the Church to remember who you were on your mission. Remember the spirit that you taught by and felt. Remember that each girl you meet is a daughter of God that deserves to be loved and treated with respect and dignity. I do my best to encourage those around me, men and women, to be their best. I know this may seem one sided, and I know we as girls are neither perfect, nor are we entirely victims--after all, this is a relatively feministic society--but my plea to the girls is for another time. Elder Holland gave a talk to BYU called "Of Souls, Symbols, and Sacraments." The following passage that I wish to share namely addresses sex, but I feel it may be applicable also in dating and courtship:

Indeed, most tragically, it is the young woman who is most often the victim, it is the young woman who most often suffers the greater pain, it is the young woman who most often feels used and abused and terribly unclean. And for that imposed uncleanliness a man will pay, as surely as the sun sets and rivers run to the sea.

Be the kind of man you want your son to be. Treat women the way you want your daughter to be treated. I understand that mission life must be different than college life, but why wouldn't you want to have the spirit to be with you now when you take girls on dates, the way it was when you wore a name tag? Dating is where a lot of temptation comes in to play. Nights cuddling with your girlfriend on the couch are when the adversary will turn the heat up, just a little hotter. It is when you are most vulnerable that he strikes the hardest, and I know you rarely have your heart more exposed than when you are with someone you love. So fight to be the man you became on your mission. Fight to be the protector. Always be worthy of your priesthood--because we need you. We can't make it to exhalation without you, and being the ones who get to hold the priesthood, we look to you to take care of our spirit as well as protect our bodies. The women are literally trusting you with our souls when we say yes to that date. Yes, I recognize that we must equally be respecting and that you need to trust us, but I don't want to have to worry if every guy that takes me out is too strong for me to get away from.

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

people are totes cray-cray


The following story is an actual event. Only his name has been changed.

So I promised you all a story. A really great story. A really long great story. In honor of my 100th post, I thought it would be the best time time to share.

Now bear with me, the details are important, and this is far too ridiculous not to include everything. So get some popcorn, some ice cream, you'll laugh, you'll cry...mostly just from laughing so hard.

And here we go.

This story starts off on a Monday evening. I meet a boy and we get to talking. Let's just call him Joseph. He asks if I want to go for a walk, and I accept his invitation. We are walking and talking, having a lovely time, and he grabs my hand.

Oh dear. What are you doing? I don't like holding hands unless you are my boyfriend. Kinda weird...

However, we just continue on this course and chat lightly for quite some time. Then, before departing, he asks if he may take me on a date on the following Saturday. Reflecting on the pleasant time we just encountered, I tell him that would be great. Joseph leans in to kiss me.


I turn my head and he apologizes. I should have taken that as in indicator...

The following Tuesday-Thursday, he texts me every morning and calls me every night. I'm working all day every day, so our conversations weren't super long or extensive. No big deal, right? Wrong. So very wrong.

Friday, Joseph texts me in the morning as he usually does, and I respond every couple hours when I had time, and then he begins to call me--which I don't answer because I am--where, ladies and gentlemen?

Oh yes, still at work.

Then I begin to receive text after text until I respond. There are a minimum of 3-4 texts from him to one from me. I'm starting to feel weird. I don't do well with clingy..

Then I get off work. Yet another phone call. I talk to him til I arrive home. Unfortunately, after we hang up, he continues to text me, until about 11 pm when he says goodnight. I bid him farewell. *exhale exasperatedly* I get into bed. My lids get heavy and I drift off, only to receive ANOTHER TEXT FROM HIM!

"Are you up?"

Followed closely by a phone call.

Very sleepily and confused, I answer. He asks me what I'm doing.

Umm cirque del solei. I'm sleeping, idiot! Its 2am!

He reports that he just wanted to say goodnight. "You already said goodnight, why are we talking on the phone right now? I'm sleeping." (I'm slightly less delightful when I am woken from my slumber.)

The next morning I get up, not exactly looking forward to my date. For those of you who don't know me, you ought to know that I am a runner.

Figuratively. I mean, I also like to run literally, but that's beside the point. If I feel at all overwhelmed by him, even slightly suffocated, I put on my shoes and I'm 10 miles away before he can finish dialing my number.

At this point, I'm laced up and ready to bolt. Fortunately for him though, I'm not someone to cancel dates, so I proceed to get ready.

We are going to downtown Houston for a Zombie Walk. That's about a 40 minute drive. We leave about 4 and make the drive. Sitting as close to the window as possible, leaning away from him, crossing my arms or playing with my hair, anything to keep my hands occupied, he just grabs my arm away from my hair and holds my hand.

At that point I had to tell him that I was definitely not cool with holding hands after knowing him only a few days and this being our first date. Which made for a very long, uncomfortable, mostly silent car ride to town. By the time we get there, we had missed the walk, and were wandering aimlessly around the city, because neither of us had been there before and he didn't know where we could eat. Don't worry, I asked someone.

After finally finding a place to eat at a grocery store, the whole dinner is relatively quiet. I just can't think of anything more to say to this guy, because at this point the only response I've elicited is the occasional grunt or "yeah." So I proceeded to talk about my soul mate Kassie, because I'm in love with her and I can talk about her forever. Maybe he would think I was a lesbian and get freaked out and not call me again!

Ho ho, joke's on me! I have no such luck.

So we finally make the trip home.


Longest 3 hours of my life. On the way back, at one point he grabs my hands and spins me around in circles.

Stop. Why is this real life right now?

I still don't know why that happened. We eventually make it back to the car, and in the 40 minutes it took to drive home, we spent 5 minutes tops talking.

Which if you know me even a little bit, is really a feat. As a result of this lapse in conversation, we turn up the music. A song comes on that he loooves. Apparently.

This song is the sappiest song that ever sapped.

But trying to be polite, I'm like, "oh yeah...it's...cute?" Immediately he pulls of to the side of the road, turns the radio way up and runs out of the car, opens my door, and pulls me out to dance to this song playing on the radio that I actually, in fact, hate.

Please, if there is any mercy in this world, just let this date be over! I just want to go home! Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.

Finally the song ends and he pulls back, still gripping me, and I know he wants to kiss. I turn and start to get back in the car. We finally arrive home, and I can't get to my door fast enough. Joseph stops me at the door and asks if he can take me on a second date. "I'm sorry, I think you're very sweet, but I think we'd be better as just friends. I'm just not really interested. Thank you though!"

The End.

That's not so crazy, you think to yourself. She's ridiculous. Well, you'd be right. Except that wasn't actually the end.



Because you'd think, if you tell a boy you aren't interested, he would peace out. Like I said, I have no such luck. The rest of the night proceeded as follows:

He stares at me, awestruck. "Wait, what?? I don't understand. Why don't you like me?"

"You just aren't really my type. I'm sorry, you're nice, but there's just no spark for me. I just don't feel any sort of connection."
"But, why?"

"It's just not something I can really explain. You like some people and you don't like other people. That's just how it is. I'm sorry, I just don't feel anything for you. I have to go now."

I turn and go into my house and shut the door. As I discuss the events of the evening with my mother, as per usual, and my phone starts ringing. ITS JOSEPH. What on earth could you possibly want?

He informs me that he is turning his car around to come back to my house. He absolutely must speak with me. Hesitantly, I stutter out "Okay?"

Joseph knocks on my door and my mother answers--who he is totally rude to. No one is rude to my momma! Homeboy asks me if we can talk in his truck. Please don't be a murderer, please don't be a murderer...

Before we even get to his truck, he starts: "I just can't let you turn me down for a second date." Why do you think you have a choice? He continues..."It's just not fair! You can't just say no. I deserve another chance. I have never had a girl say no to me before!" Oh, so it's an ego thing. What a maroon, what an ignoramus. Very seriously he turns to me "You know, in a relationship, both people's wants and feelings need to be considered."

To which I respond, "Yes, but this isn't a relationship, because both people have to want a relationship for there to be one in the first place..." I've LITERALLY only known you for 5 days.

Somewhat more somber, he says, "Maybe I'm just having an off night. It's not fair for you to just decide after one date that you don't want to go out with me again. I am holding back so much, you just need to see!" THEN HE BEGINS TO CRY. Let me reiterate: HE LEGITIMATELY HAD TEARS COMING OUT OF HIS FACE. "It's just so hard to find a girl like you *sob* I'm sorry, I didn't want you to see me like this.."

Dude, I didn't want to see you like this. I don't know how to appropriately respond. WHAT DO I DO WITH MY HANDS?!

I awkwardly apologize and tell him that I simply don't like him, and I have to go, and basically run into my house.


HA! Just kidding.
Sorry, I'll stop doing that.

I get in my house and before I even finish telling my mom what happened, HE CALLS ME AGAIN!

I don't answer.

He texts me twice. They basically went "feelings, feelings, feelings, YOU ARE MISUNDERSTANDING ME, feelings, feelings, feelings.

I don't answer.

He calls again.


Another text "Please just talk to me. Please just let me explain."

"I'm really sorry, but I know what I want, and it's just not you. That's it."

I get a few more texts of him trying to explain himself, and I don't answer.

Then I don't hear anything. I'm thinking I'm finally done with all that noise. Then he texts me again on Monday. Again and again. And he calls me. I don't answer any of these attempts. By the end of that week, I had 11 unanswered texts and 5 missed phone calls. Believe me, I wish I was making that up.

SUNDAY. The day of all days. Joseph goes to church with me, and I dread seeing him. I know it's going to be bad. My girl friend and I take all measures to avoid him, but alas, we are foiled when he starts down the hallway, coming right to us! This boy stops right in front of me and stares.

"Uh, hi.." I stammer.



My friend "well, Olivia, I wanted you to meet my friend, let's go."

Joseph-"I need to talk to you." He escorts me into the nearest classroom and closes the door. Please don't kill me! "There's no reason for you to be so rude!" he accuses. I'm like, "uhhh, sorry, but I have nothing to say to you. Gotta go."

Whew. Maybe that's the end?? NOPE.

He finds me again, 5 minutes later, and says the same thing. "You can't just stop talking to me. You are so rude!"

"Listen, I'm sorry you think I'm rude. Maybe we just shouldn't talk to each other if that's how you feel."

"YOU DON'T TALK TO ME!" he yells.

"I just don't know how to respond to you anymore."

"Ok, whatever Olivia, have a nice life."


I manage to avoid him the rest of church, but there were refreshments afterwards, and I love food, so I ate whilst talking to my girl, and he circles us. About 5 times. We run away, because we are very mature.

On the drive home, I get 2 more texts. I don't answer. He calls. I don't answer. He proceeds to text me 6 more times. For those of you non math majors, that adds up to 17 unanswered texts. I lost track of phone calls. 6 maybe?

Told you he cried. You didn't believe me did you?? Also, I have no idea what the caramel reference is about. Anyways, I finally told him he made me feel very uncomfortable, and he responds with some lengthy text about feelings, and I haven't heard from him since. (Mind you, this was all in a 13 day time period.) Maybe that's actually the end?? Maybe he'll show up at my window with a knife. No one really knows for sure. But if I never write another post, HE DUNNIT!

So what do we learn from this? If a girl says she doesn't want a second date, SHE DOESN'T LIKE YOU. If you inappropriately overwhelm her with feelings after knowing her for less than 2 weeks, after she says she doesn't like you, she may just write a blog about you. No one really knows for sure.