Hell Yeah, 2013! Hell Yes!

   It wasn't until after agreeing to help my friends save their record store, via auctioning myself off for dates, when i realized the event was to be held at my ex boyfriend's place of business.  Ugh!  So, naturally, the few days prior to the event I was feeling anxious and experiencing mild turmoil and even completing my daily ensembles with stress acne.  Then. it. happened.  The day of and...nothing.  I didn't feel stressed or worried or anxious or upset or anything negative.  Instead, I was looking forward to seeing my ex and seeing some people i hadn't in a while and helping some friends save their local spot in the process.
   When I rolled up I parked next to his van without even knowing I had done so.  I got out of the car, after giving myself a last minute glance in the rearview, and started walking to the front door of the bar.  I saw a few people outside smoking cigarettes so I stopped to chat with them a little bit and then...there.  That moment.  Even now, it's playing in slow motion as I write this down.  My brain finally processed having seen his van and I knew I'd have to make a move one way or the other.  AHHH!  Yelling inside my brain!  What was I thinking?!  Why did I think this was a sound idea?!  What What What the hell?!?!?!?  and, as I was outside going through this in my head, I saw him.  Walking up to the bar coming right for me.  Right for me!  There!  AHH!  Freaking out internally and then...from out of the chilly darkness the light hits him and reveals...a smile.  Not just any smile, but one of the kindest most gentle smiles there is to look upon followed by a giant hug.

    He says, "wow!  you're so skinny!"  To which I respond, "No, I'm not.  You are!  Oh, wait, you have a mustache now."  And that was it.  It was over.  Like a bandaid.  Hell Yeah, 2013.  Hell yes!

(Not me in picture, but an item on the lot nonetheless) 

I felt like I should've gotten an award of something of the sort for how well last night went and I even told a friend I thought as much.  His response, "you did get an award!  you got awarded with a non-awkward evening!"  

I sold for $95 and I regret nothing.

This Week's Crush @ 4:27am on Tuesday

Jason Momoa as Khal Drogo on Game of Thrones.

This is an old crush, but when you can't sleep and you start surfing the internet for random things you get Jason Momoa at 4:27am on a Tuesday.

Hell Yeah

Ain't Fine a Bitch

   This weekend brings many an ex boyfriend back into my life simply due to there being back-to-back shows in town worth seeing.  Not that it'll just be me and my exes in one locked room together with barred up windows and no way out.  Just that they'll be there.  They will be there and I will be there and whoever they're dating will be there.  All of us...there.

   

   Being mature is sometimes difficult, because you walk that fine line of what is or is not appropriate.  I mean, I want to engage them in conversation, but what's too long or too short?  My hope is to keep things short and sweet.  No one has to be best friends.  I'd just like things to be fine.  just fine.  not great.  not perfect.  not awesome.  just fine.

so, tonight, I raise my glass.

Here's to you.  Here's to you, fine.

b i t c h.

Meh...I'm busy that night.

Being 31 and single is way different than being 21 and single.  

There really is no period of self doubt and the small window that exists for it truly is brief, at least, for me and, at least, this time.  I'm not trying to "find myself" or consider who it is i'm trying to find.  I'm not clinging to a relationship I know has no substance or makes me unhappy.  I'm not trying to please my parents with my choice in men nor am I trying to rebel against them.

I am only trying to be.  

I'm opening a business and working harder than I have in my life and dating right now is totally accidental.  I don't have the time or energy to spend on worry about whether or not a cute guy finds me attractive.  This, I have actually found to work in my favor.  The appearance of being aloof or busy or whatever it is has only been working for me. 

  I think when you're younger you wonder who you'll end up with or if it will be your current boyfriend/girlfriend.  It's likely that women think more about this than men, but I'm sure the notion does cross their mind from time to time.  Personally, this is the first time in my life where I have been single and have every confidence to say, "No, thank you." if I want to.  I don't go and try to analyze what it is they may be going through or feeling, because, for me, I just wasn't feelin' it or not ready or was there with someone else or whatever the case may be. 

 As it turns out, you can politely decline someone buying you a drink or asking you out to dinner and not have them call you a bitch under their breath as they walk away.  

just a little afternoon Slade

Current Crush: Right now @ 6:02pm on a Wednesday

Sold! To the highest bidder.....a date?

   I'm not exactly sure what convinced me this was a good idea, but I may/may not have gotten talked in to being auctioned off for charity.  What does said bidder win?  Well, a date, of course!  a date with me.

   I didn't love the idea of writing about myself, so I asked a friend to do it for me.  Here is what she came up with.

"Jen Ryan is one of Columbus's elite hipsters with her avid bike riding and employment at a local brewery. She loves long walks on the beach, roasting coffee beans, and trendsetting. Jen is a total hottie, obviously, and loves to dress up. She dislikes wearing jeans, but damn they like wearing her. She is a talkative girl and won't be awkward. If the date goes well, she might not ditch you for your roommates. Jen has secret connections at the Zoo that include free admittance and Road Soda. Otherwise the tab is on you. As an added bonus, she is free after 8pm on Valentine's Day."

"Damn, the man! Save the Empire!"

Dreadful Sounds Presents: S.O.S. Date Auction

Drinking for Free

   Went out last week with a girlfriend.  Was there for about an hour and while sitting at the bar a guy walked by and said, 

"hey, it looks like you could use a drink." 

 To which I said, "Yes, but you really don't have to buy me one."  

"Are you sure, because I'd really like to." 

"No...really...You don't.  I have this money right here and am dead set on paying for it."

Stubborn?  Independent?  Whatever.  I didn't end up paying anyways.  The bartender did.

So...that's a penis

I was 15 the first time I ever saw a penis and even now the memory of this moment is foggy.  Um…so, what am I supposed to do with that?  I wasn’t sure, so I ended up watching TV while I jacked him off.  MASH was on and I for one hate MASH.

I met Shawn during Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory which was being performed at the Erie Playhouse.  I had auditioned with my best friend, Allison,  and we both were cast, however, she had received a much nicer role.  I totally get it.  It even made sense then.  Allison was prettier, so things came to her much more easily, but I knew I was funnier than she so I relied upon that for most of my scholastic career.

Shawn was older and had a lead role in the play.  All of the girls thought he was cute even though he had braces.  I didn’t really see much of anything in him at first until I noticed him noticing me.  Me?!  No, it couldn’t be me.  That’s crazy.  I was standing next to Allison, so he must have been looking at her.

One day after rehearsal he asked me to stick around for a bit, which I thought to be strange, but when he offered me a ride home I didn’t want to refuse.  I mean, he was older, he had a license and a car!  I was totally in.  I mean, my friends would have been so jealous and besides my end result was just to get Shawn to ask me to PROM.  I was a freshman at the time and freshman weren’t given a pass to PROM unless asked by an upper classman.  I guess, while I wasn’t interested in Shawn, I was interested in what I could get out of it.  I still at this point wasn’t even sure if he was interested in me.  But, I was going to take advantage where there was advantage to be taken.  Thus, starting a long career of manipulating the men in my life.

They started shutting the lights off throughout the theater as everyone cleared out and Shawn and I followed each other around in the dark.  a game of Marco/polo commenced as we made our way through the costumes and props laid out about the stage.  then, there he was…right in front of me….eyes closed, lips pursed…closing in…and then….nothing.  I was too nervous and moved away.  I played “hard-to-get” for the remainder of our time at the theater and finally Shawn just took me home because he was so annoyed.

weeks passed and still nothing happened until one weekend when Shawn’s parents went out of town.  this was the time.  he had to come pick me up since I still did not have a license,  but we made our way back to his house in no time.  I was naive as to what he had in mind.  the notion of seeing a penis hadn’t even crossed my mind.  the word penis hadn’t even crossed my mind.  but that’s all he was thinking about.

once at his house, the TV goes on and there it is…MASH.  I had never liked MASH, but he seemed to love it, so not a word was said from my direction.  just stomached it as best I could and then as I’m watching the TV I hear a zipper come down and the next thing I knew some slithery silken thing was in my hand.  I didn’t even look at it while he coerced my hand to move by thrusting his pelvis forward and back away from my clenched fingers.  obviously, my first experience.  he had to have been aware.  I was such an amateur.  Completely terrified to look he even asked “are you just going to watch Television?” and the only thing I could think to say was, “yup.”  My indifference didn’t even matter to him.  He was getting what he wanted whether I was an active participant or not.  He didn’t exactly rape my hand, but it was certainly a violation of some sort.  and then….then….a thick gooey mess jumped onto my hand and ran down my fingers.  what the fuck?  that’s when I looked….my first penis.  so…that’s a penis?

sick.

he didn’t even ask me to PROM.

(Originally written on April 9, 2010)

If you're not using that anymore could I have my virginity back, please.

I was 18 years old when I lost my virginity and it was only 4 years later that I was asking for it back.  Sadly, he no longer had it.

I know there were kids in high school and even middle school who were having sex, but i was certainly not one of them.  I had obviously taken sex education, but still the subject matter seemed to baffle me.  I never really understood fully that penis enters vagina and then sperm mixes with egg and then baby 9 months later.  It’s not that I was an idiot or anything of the sort, at least, not scholastically but when it came to the language of love-making I was at a loss for sure.

My next door neighbor had lost her virginity in the tenth grade but didn’t tell me about it for fear that I would make a bigger deal out of it than it actually was.  I don’t know how she got that impression other than when she got her period for the first time I asked her a million questions a week for 6 months on the subject.  I may have also told her that I knew Joey from NKOTB on a personal level when she and I were 8 years old.  This was a nicely fabricated lie that lastly the better part of a year.  I’m sure I learned a lesson in there somewhere about not lying to people etc, but i continued to lie my way into and out of everything well into my college career.

The first time I saw someone my age with a pregnant belly was in eleventh grade and I still didn’t quite get the “how” of it.  I mean, boy meets girl, girl likes boy, boy sticks penis in vagina?  Where did that level of intimacy play a part in the teenage lifestyle?  I for one knew that I was not mature enough to handle it since the first and only time I had seen a penis it scared the shit out of me and had quickly sworn off penis-to-hand touching entirely thereafter.

For a while I told everyone I was waiting for marriage, which was half-true.  I hadn’t planned it out fully, but if I said something along those lines people were more apt to let me be.  It also served as a jumping off point for an ongoing bet junior and senior year of high school.  The bet was simple…whoever could get me to have sex with them after prom won.  this was just an attempt at seeing my boobs though since i had developed quite early on in life.  So, yes, marriage it was…definitely waiting.

As time went on it became more and more difficult to hold on to that waiting for marriage bit.  I started losing faith in Catholicism toward the end of my senior year of high school which made waiting for intercourse even harder to convey to the opposite sex.  If I had faith on my side then no one would question it.  They would just as well assume i was some nice christian girl who didn’t want to “give it up” yet.  Then, Jake had to ask me to prom.

I had had a crush on Jake since the 9th grade (along with everyone else) but had given up on it long beforehand due to us having such a fantastic friendship through school.  It’s true, I know, but Jake asked me to go only as a safe bet.  He knew there would be no pressure from my end and he hadn’t planned on anything from his end.

Prom came and went and Jake couldn’t have been more of a gentleman.  He didn’t make a single move which I should’ve been pleased about, but…he didn’t make a single move?!  what the fuck was wrong with me?  the following day I realized i had left some things in the pocket of his suit jacket and stopped over his house to pick them up.  I, of course, left them there on purpose.  This opportunity bled into he and i hanging out the rest of the day, then the next, and the next after that, then the next.  Finally Jake and I were a team, a couple, together.  It made so much sense, so I quickly had to change my point of view on sexual interaction.  I wanted to fuck his brains out!

It was August of 1999 just after visiting the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, Ohio when Jake and I finally had sex for the first time.  I wasn’t his first, but this moment for me was life altering.  So, life altering in fact that it took place in a cheap hotel in the middle of the day only to feel like shit a mere moment later when it was over.  Wasn’t this supposed to change my life?  I guess in some way it did, since I used that as leverage for the remainder of our tenure together.

The day that Jake walked out on me it was my 21st birthday.  The last thing I remember saying to him after his plea to try one more time is this, “do you still have my virginity?  because i would like it back.”   Sadly, it was long gone.

(originally written on April 12, 2010)

is he a serial killer? no way, he's just your boyfriend.

The next door neighbor’s name was Allison.  We grew up together, more or less, and for this reason we got into trouble together.

like any other couple of pre-teen girls we made prank calls. it didn’t much matter to whom.  just dial a number and say something totally stupid when they answer.

we didn’t, however, expect for them to call us back.

this was before caller i.d., before cell phones.  Though i’m pretty sure pagers had just been doled out to everyone in the class the summer before.

Since you never knew who was calling, there had to be some way to call the number back if you got disconnected, etc.  So, the geniuses at the phone company invented *69.

My family didn’t have *69 and to this day I’m not entirely sure if that’s true.  it may have just been some bullshit our parents told us so as to not run up the phone bill or talk to strangers.

the day the phone rang on our end was when we met.

his name was jake.

jake was 13, same as me, about to start 9th grade, same as me.  at mcdowell, same as me?!  what a coincidence.  was it?  i mean, a coincidence?  were we fated to meet?  god knows if i even know what that means, but it was strange all the same.

the trouble came when i told my mother about jake.

“he could be a serial killer, or a rapist! what were you thinking?”

great, mom, fill your teenage daughter with thoughts of serial killing and rape.  my mind wasn’t big enough to handle shit like that and there it was…forced into my brain by my own mother.

what had been excitement about this male prospect quickly turned into agitation and fear.  i was actually afraid for my life.

the phone rang just as jake had promised, but i stopped answering.

days passed and he’d call.  i’d even answer the phone and pretend i was my sister.  ”jennifer isn’t here.” “I’ll tell her you called.” “can i take a message?” etc etc

he eventually stopped calling and the thought of jake left my daily train of thought just as quickly as he entered it.

homecoming that fall while walking to my seat in the bleachers amongst my peers clad in navy and white i passed a friend with a quick hello.

she found me shortly afterwards to inform me that someone wanted to meet me.

i was intrigued. curious.  who could want to meet me?

walking over there to meet up with her my memory shares a slow motion montage now although i’m sure it didn’t go down that way.

the crowd parted and there he was.  long hair tucked under a grateful dead baseball cap. brown eyes as large and searching as any i’d seen before.

jake. his name was jake.

(originally written on August 4, 2010)

Accidental Gigolo

I had sworn off meeting people while out at the bar or a show, but then that just seems to happen naturally. I thought it was a negative thing for a while, but sometimes that's just where you are. There shouldn't be any shame in that. The shame that people talk about or silently feel comes afterwards. You know, that moment when you're trying to decide whether or not to go home with them. That moment when you do actually go home with them. The seconds before wondering if you're too drunk to do anything too scandalous or, furthermore, that moment you're just drunk enough to make that choice.

This brings us to my first ever attempt at a one night stand...

For the past 8 years I worked at a coffee shop and in just the last 3 years had been working the open shift pretty exclusively. This, of course, meant that I had to be there and ready to work before anyone else was going out the door and heading to their places of employment. I was, generally, the first thing people would see in the morning, so coming into work hungover or still working on being drunk and hiding it was out of the question.

It was a Tuesday night and, like most nights during the week, I had planned on staying in and getting some rest. I got a few phone calls from some friends just asking about meeting up for various happy hours, but I wasn't feeling much like doing so. Then, a friend whom I'd not seen in a while asked if I'd like to go to Dick's Den for bluegrass night and for some reason this seemed to be the best idea.

The night was like any other night there really. Older men dancing jigs to fiddles, harmonicas, and banjos and trying to coerce young women out onto the dance floor with them. Most of the girls usually humor them and join in a song or two. My friend and I sat at the bar and took in most of the sites until we were both drunk enough to go out onto the dance floor too. Both of us got spun around a few times by those just as drunk, if not more, than we both were. That's when I got spun into a kid standing not too far from me. He was cute and looked pretty young. I hadn't planned on talking to him, but my friend encouraged me in an, almost, aggressive manner to humor him in joining him for a smoke. I do not smoke and ended up just hanging out in the cold with a bunch of people.

How did I end up at his house? I have no clue. That part of the night is a bit foggy. I do know that one of his friends was there and we played darts. I found out that I'm terrible at darts. He asked me to go upstairs and I was hesitant at first, but my girlfriend, again, encouraged me. So, up the stairs I went and.....

nothing.

I tried. I really tried. It ended with me saying, "can we just stop? this is not happening for me. is it happening for you?" He agreed that it was not going to work out for either one of us. So, as I'm gathering my things he says, "I'll call you..." and my only response, naturally, was laughter. I kind of started cracking up. I mean, I was not expecting to see him ever again and was pretty happy just to chalk that up to a failed experiment in being single, but he said the words. So, being the person that I am and coupling that with being drunk I just said, "let's not pretend like you're going to call me. I'm not going to call you, you're not going to call me, we're not going to 'get to know' each other. however, if you want to try this again, maybe then you can call me." He took it rather well and it probably helped that he was wasted and passed out shortly after. I gathered all my things and ran down the stairs and out the door with my friend who had a good laugh on my behalf.




It wasn't until the next morning when I realized the $40 I had had in the back pocket of my jeans wasn't there anymore. I know I didn't spend it. What could I have done with it? I looked through the house real quick and in the car and then it hit me....shit! It had to have fallen out in his bed. awkward.

So, here I am now. 31 years old and just paid a guy for sex that I didn't even have. 

Classy.

and you say he's just a friend....

No one likes to think that their ex will ever get over them. I mean, seriously. how could anyone get over this hot piece?! But, shit, it happens and when it does it always sucks.  It doesn’t matter how okay you are with each other or even if you don’t think of them romantically anymore, it still always sucks.

you say to yourself, “it’s really cool that we’re going to be friends.”

reality is this: being friends is difficult and painful and awkward and jealous and strange and it takes real-as-hell work.

of course it’s not impossible. i have many ex boyfriends whom are great friends, but is that all of my ex boyfriends? hell to the no.

do i want you to be one of them?

absolutely!

do i think it’ll happen?

...not likely.

women stew over things. let them manifest for hours in our heads before saying anything. reach the farthest, most awful conclusion of what outcomes lie ahead. and to what end?  it only makes us hurt. physically and emotionally. 

No one professes that they like to cry, but when you actually let that barrier down and free the flood, that sinking thing in the base of your throat, that shiver under your eyelash….it feels fucking great!

I dare you to cry the next time someone hurts you.

when the devices swirling up in your head make you feel that someone has horribly wronged you.

when you stub your toe

when you’re late for work

when you're having the shittiest day and you want to scream

cry instead. cry and i promise you will feel calm. the calm that comes after

well……

after you’ve finished hyperventilating into a paper bag and have finished cutting that last picture of the two of you together up into tiny little pieces.