Category Archives: Growing Up

Miss March Is Drained!

Today was one of those days.

Ed and Heba are staying strong together, even while they are living apart!

I sobbed during The Biggest Loser. I mean, this isn’t totally unusual for me; I usually cry while watching The Biggest Loser because I’m so moved by the weight loss stories, but this time it was a little different. See, this season it’s Biggest Loser Families, so some of the couples are husbands and wives. Tonight the first husband, Ed, was kicked off and while he was leaving, his wife, Heba, (they are newlyweds) was sobbing, like heaving, can’t catch your breath sobbing. It totally made me sob. BB looked at me from across the room and gave me a “for serious?” look. Yes, for serious. Heba was talking about how much she was going to miss him in bed (sidenote: do you think that the couples have sexual relations while on the show? I hope so, it’s a lot of calories burned!), and Ed gave this beautiful speech about how she’s the light of his life….I’m such a sucker for using terms like “light” or “sunshine” while speaking romantically.

Remember when I was so stressed this summer that my eye twitched? Today’s stress level was on par with that. Everything was just crazy, moving at double or triple speed. I haven’t been sleeping enough, anyway, and today I found out that in two weeks Miss March has a conference to attend to…a two-night conference. However, I’m going with another teacher, so it’s going to be quite the Lucy and Ethel adventure (and let’s hope, for Miss March’s sake, that there’s some cute male teachers there!).

Tonight was one of those nights that I really wished I had a prince charming who would knock on the door with Chinese, tasti, and movies. It’s not that I was lonely, I just had a really long day and I would have loved for one of these men in my life to be like “hey, that girl had a long day, let me pamper her!” (I know, I’m out of my mind). It was one of those days where I felt totally drained from life and I just wanted someone to come along and help lift my spirits. You ever have those days? I did use my passive aggressiveness and changed my Facebook status to “Miss March decided this is what she wants: someone to bring her tasti with peanuts on top and watch her netflix with her. yup.” The Prep texted me and said, “I’d love to bring u tasti with peanuts on top and watch netflix.” I have to admit, as much as my feelings for him are sort of whatever, it was so nice to get that text and know that someone was thinking about what I may want.

Am I insane (or have I watched too many Rom-Coms?) to think that someday a man will go out of his way to make my day better?

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Miss March’s Dream

I'm sure this woman didn't have scary car/boy dreams...perhaps because this picture was taken in 1930 and her car cranked to start up? Yet, maybe she did...

Just woke up from a restless nap in which I dreamed this:

(begin dream sequence)

I was driving with CB in the car and I kept being too close to the brakes and therefore, my foot couldn’t break. Then he told me he was falling for me and that there was a major difference between love and lust, yet he was in the middle of the road with me. Still couldn’t find the brakes because my seat was either too far back or too close.

(end dream sequence)

What do YOU think this means?

Miss March Doesn’t Confront the Past (and is okay with that!)

So, it finally happened.

Last night CB and I went to see Religulous (which was awesome, by the way). We had a lot of time to kill, so we sat outside (the smell of Fall was just in the air!) the indie movie theater and talked about life for a while.  We were watching people walk by when all of the sudden I had this weird premonition. If you know me, you know that I tend to get flashes of premonitions once in a while and then all of the sudden the thing will happen.

Well, sure enough. Out of the corner of my eye I see this tan baseball cap. I look at the face and my stomach dropped.

“Um, that may or may not be the guy who screwed me over this summer,” I whispered to CB.

He asked if I wanted to go inside and see if it was him, but I really didn’t. I was super confused. All I wanted to do all summer was confront him (especially if he was with another girl, which he was), but now I couldn’t even recognize his face. Was it him? Was it not him? We walked into the lobby and I sort of followed him into the snack area. It felt good knowing that CB was just a few feet behind me. I walked over to the snack counter and tried to get a closer view of his face. When he turned around, I knew.

Well, if it isn’t good old, MusicTeach.

I looked back to CB (and side note: did I feel bad watching this guy on my “date” with CB? A little. Did CB understand my need to do it? Completely. Hence, he’s my friend first) and he waved me on.

What would I say? Go up to him and be like, “Hey asshole?” I still wasn’t even 100% sure it was him. What was wrong with me that I couldn’t remember it was him? However, as they say in Pushing Daisies (love it!), The facts were these: wearing the same baseball cap, same body type, same brooding eyes, hair color…and earlier in the night I thought I had seen his car in town, but had blocked it from my memory. The only thing which didn’t match up for me was his nose, but he had a weird nose anyway (and according to the “account” from him, he messed up his nose in that “biking accident” he had; the accident which supposedly scarred him…did I see any scars? Yeah, no).

I sat down next to CB and MusicTeach walked right by; he looked me right in the eye and showed no sign of recognition. Yes, my hair was up, and he never saw it that way, and yes, I was wearing a fleece and jeans, and he only saw me in shorts and dresses…um, but, no sign in his eyes? Maybe my readers were right (see comment: “something is just off about this music teacher guy. i would stay away”…to which I didn’t really listen) and there was something seriously off about him. He was with a blond girl. I called J and she gave the same response CB gave: go throw something in his face. Ha, I wish. However, looking back in retrospect, I’m glad I didn’t say or do anything; who knows what his reaction may have been.

Also, I’m glad I didn’t go up to him and say the wrong thing; or get nervous and look like a fool. I was actually pretty calm about the whole thing. It was funny, too, because I sent out a mass text to J, T, and A about it, and also sent it to Admiral Adama. He was the first to respond, and he asked if I was okay and was CB with me. It was a really nice text to get from him. Yes, this whole debacle was on my mind the whole night. I knew it was going to happen. I just knew it. I had that feeling.

Anyway, he looked crappy, and I was with a bigger, more handsome, and masculine man. Plus, I looked all adult in my teacher clothes. He looked like a bum. Not for nothing, but that sort of brings a smirk to my face. I wonder if he recognized me at all. Or if he went home and thought, “I know her from somewhere…” (uh yeah, Musicteach, you spent over $300 on dinner for me…and a book…and cds…).

One of the reasons I love this blog is because while writing this entry, I was looking back on my old posts about MusicTeach. Boy, was I in denial about that. He was a jerk. However, I was duped. He really led me on (you don’t talk to someone from midnight to 8am on the phone about your life and then pretend it never happened, right?) in many ways. He also made me feel like an idiot, and screwed up my trust in other men. Bravo, MusicTeach.

All in all, one of the weirdest nights, ever.

Did anyone else have a weird night? I’m going to go read my horoscope and see if it says anything about this weird energy!

Miss March Challenges You!

Miss March has a challenge for you!

While talking to A tonight, she said very sternly to me, “I really don’t think there are any nice guys out there; I don’t believe it.”

I chose to disagree with her.

Is finding a "nice guy" like solving a rubik's cube? Just when you think you got it, another little color block pops up and you start back at square one.

Of course there are nice, good, sweet men out there; I mean, there has to be, right? Admiral Adama was the best boyfriend and friend he could be for the 3.5 years we were dating. Yes, I had my issues with him. Yes, they were major issues, but he was a sweetheart, most of the time.

Am I just proving myself wrong here?

What exactly constitutes a “good man”? My grandma would probably say, that a good man takes care of you, puts your first, never yells or snaps, lets you live your life (did I just describe a man or a dog?). Are we asking too little of men (just the other day I said to CB, “All I want is for someone to be nice to me and call me back!”) or perhaps we’re asking too much of men (be my best friend/partner/always be on/always be nice/do the dishes)?

I have a feeling that BB is going to be a “good” and “nice man.” He was raised with two sisters and watched men break our hearts and make us cry; he must have learned something from that. He’s in-tune, I think, more than most other men are, with a woman’s manners, methods, and reasoning. He’s watched his sisters chose or not chose to continue seeing men in their lives and our reasons for that.

Okay, after reading over this post I realized I quickly changed the question from finding a “nice guy” to a “good man”…I wonder why I did that?

I guess I see them as one and the same; someone who is a “good man” is also going to be “nice.” Don’t get me wrong here either, I’m not saying I’ve never met a nice guy, but they are very, very few and far between.

And yes, it’s certainly hard to find a nice guy out there; I’ve found, in my dating travels, that many men aren’t sure of themselves yet, so they take their insecurities out on you. But, there has to be a plethora of hidden nice guys out there, right? Maybe they’re all on some island, preparing me Apple Juice and vodkas with Tasti D Lite for dinner…

…or you could just start humming the tune to Matchmaker, “But, he’s a nice man, a good catch, true?”

Here’s your challenge: TELL US about any NICE GUYS you know! (and are they single and in the NY area? I kid, I kid. Sort of…) Prove Miss March and A wrong!

Are there any truly Nice Guys out there?

Miss March’s Keychain

For some reason, the last three days, the lyrics to Castle on a Cloud from Les Miserables has been etched into my brain. It’s an extremely sad song about a little, neglected girl dreaming about her fantasy castle where she will be safe and happy. It got me thinking about fantasy places. We all have “places” that we go when we are sad, scared, or need to disconnect from reality for a bit. Often times, these fantasy places that we go to have fantasy guests that join us there; they could be real people in our lives that we miss, or care about, or they could be people we know we’re most likely never going to meet, but in our heads, they can dine with us at our fantasy hotel.

I have a lot of fantasy places that I go to when I’m upset. There’s one I go to with J (the inn that we want to buy someday); with A, in my head, I often to go a USO dance in 1944 where we pick up sailors and dance ’til dawn (I never said I was sane); with T, I often go to California and imagine us driving through the hills of Northern Cali and meeting interesting people at small coffee shops. These fantasies connect me with the people I miss and love; they’re usually fantasies of events that I know we would enjoy (or, in A’s case, would have enjoyed) together.

My fake motel key, keychain from Admiral Adama.

The other day I got locked out of my house, temporarily, and while struggling with my keys, I stopped and took a second to look at my keychain. My bright red keychain is a fake motel key; the Admiral bought it for me when we were shopping together in DC one weekend. We thought that they were adorable because they were like “old-fashioned” motel key chains (opposed to the new cards you slide in the door); he bought us each one. Now, we both have them on our keys; I know it’s silly, but to look at that keychain, it reminds me of all the amazing times we had together in our little fantasies and dreams. Although we still talk a lot, and he’s so important to me, a part of “us” is now forever gone. I’m not his and he’s not mine. However, in this fake motel, in this fake little town, we’re still “us” laughing and dancing in this fake little motel room with busted curtains and dimmed lights.

Where do you go to escape in your fantasies? And who joins you?

Miss March: Another One (2?) Bites the Dust…

So long, Mr. Amazing Eyes, we will surely miss you...

Before we begin, let’s say a moment of silence for one of the world’s most handsome and wonderful men, Paul Newman.

So, I got a weird text while teaching the other day. It was Coheed. The text said, “Hey, what’s up?” which isn’t an odd text per se, but in context it sort of is. See, back this summer when we went out a few times we had said that we were going to go away together to the inn his parents’ own in early October. Well, I hadn’t heard from him for most of the later part of August; then, in mid-September he had this party at the inn and didn’t invite me, so I sort of wrote him off for the time being, as per our usual messed up relationship ways.

I responded to the text with a “not much, in school, the usual.” And he responds with, “I have a girlfriend now.”

Um, okay?

This sort of came as a shock to me, not because I care all that much (I mean, he lives five hours away, how plausible is that? Plus, he didn’t like the idea of me not “settling down” with him and dating other guys), but I honestly didn’t think that there was any other girl in the picture. I asked some things, like who was she and how old; he said he had been hanging out with her for all of August and just decided to be “exclusive” and she was 21–old enough, he pointed out, to go to a bar with him. Awesome.

I asked him (this was all through text, mind you) what the point of being exclusive was if he didn’t really see them having a future (he said) and he said, “why not?” I told him that the next time I’m settling down for good will be when there’s a ring put on my finger (proverbially); I told him that I didn’t think I’ve meet “Mr. Right” right, hence I’m not settling down.

To which he responded, “You have met him. He lives upstate.” He was talking about himself.

Mr. Exclusivity was still flirting with me (he even told me we’d have to put off our “time together” til next time he’s single) even though he just became exclusive with this other girl. That didn’t feel right to me. It also didn’t feel like the real Coheed talking. I know that he adores me, and part of him really wants to be with me; but, I also know that he takes real issue in me not settling down anytime soon.

But, why text me in the middle of the day (when you know I’m working) to tell me “I have a girlfriend”? It’s not my business, really. He asked if I was seeing anyone and I said no. It’s not his business either.

I also just love how this whole thing was conducted through text message. This has been the way with Coheed and me for nearly 8 years. Back and forth, yet, never really getting anywhere. Someone is always in a relationship. He’s definitely a serial monogamist. I think he feels unsure of himself when he doesn’t have someone to think of. It was almost like a breakup text, but it was like breaking up our potential to get together sometime? How confusing.

Have you ever gotten a weird/odd/confusing text from an (t)ex(t)?

Miss March High Fives!

Sometimes in life I find the oddest things totally and utterly sexy. Back in college I once stood next to a boy that I liked, doing dishes together, and while our hands touched under the soapy, disgusting water, I couldn’t have been happier and thought the whole ordeal was the epitome of oddly sexy.

I also think men (men that I happen to like) driving can be very sexy. Something about the way that their hands move the wheel, they look over their shoulder, glance into their mirrors…I don’t know, call me insane, but there is a certain sexiness to it.

Another, less crazy, thing I find sexy is when guys remember certain aspects of your life that you didn’t expect them to; like, your best friend’s name, or your most hated food. It’s sweet and sexy to know that they actually processed what you said and remembered it (or my expectations of men are REALLY low…?)

But recently I’ve been thinking about the sexiest thing I can think of:

High-fiving.

I think that two “lovers” (or whatever) who give a high-five to each other is completely sexy. The other day I stopped to visit One of the Boys at work and I told him something good about my day and he gave me a high-five. Well, I just about fell over. I know that the act of high-fiving isn’t sexy: two hands slapping? Least sexy thing ever and if taken a step too far, it even treads into violent or angry territory. But, think about it. What does the act of “highing-five” mean? To me, it means camaraderie, friendship; what’s sexier than good friendship? And, I believe to be great in bed with something, you need a certain sense of teamwork, or camaraderie. How else will everyone win if the team isn’t playing together?

There’s a certain sense of praise that comes from giving someone a high-five. They’re proud of you, so they are showing you. He was proud of me for something, so he wanted to tell me, not just in words. Am I over thinking this? Yes. But, do you get my point? I hope so. There’s more to the high-five than just the art of slapping; a high-five, when two people who like each other slap hands, conveys a sense of “yes, WE did it!” Whether it’s finding the movie theater, liking the same book, going to the same high school, whatever. There’s a sense of togetherness in a fun, silly way, and we all know that silliness, in the right measurements, is very sexy.

Last night I was talking to T about hand-holding and this piece by Ryan Dodge from Single-ish. It’s about how hand-holding is a very intimate public display of affection which implies much more than the simple act of holding hands. I totally agree with this; but, I also think that highing-five is an intimate act. There’s an act of romantic intimacy implied in the high-five, I think, which is often lost because the high-five is so often used for sports, etc. It’s a private, quiet, intimacy; it’s that sense of togetherness, which I discussed before, that idea that perhaps you’re in this game together. That’s pretty intimate, if you ask me.

Okay readers, do tell, what odd things do you find sexy?

PS. Check out this VERY detailed Wikipedia entry on the High-Five. Too funny!