“Yeah, this is where I used to let guys suck me off for drugs and cash.” December 10, 2009

I would like to share with you the story of the strangest date I’ve ever had, which up until the other day, I had completely forgotten about.

 

A few years ago, I met a boy online. I don’t remember where, and I don’t even remember his name, but we’ll call him Scott. Scott and I emailed a few times, and had one or two telephone conversations before he asked me if I would like to go on a date. Now, I may not remember his name, but I do remember him being fucking HOT. On the shorter side, with beautiful full sleeves, slicked back dark hair, intense eyes, he looked a lot like Chris Carrabba, but more rockabilly. Of course I said yes. He lived a bit away, on the complete other side of the airport, and I don’t drive, so I offered to meet him in the city- half way for both of us. Being a gentleman, he said no way, and came to pick me up. I remember him complimenting my hair (and, it did look awesome, I must admit. It looked much like this at the time: , which I know you can’t tell from that picture, but trust me, it was hot), and I also remember being completely unable to form a coherent sentence for 10 minutes or so because of how attracted to him I was.

 

We drove around for a minute, trying to decide what to do. Apparently, all he had planned was “I’ll come get you”. We somehow made our way to the Naval base, and he told me about the skydiving lessons he had taken there. Honk shuuu zzzz yawn. I pretended to be interested though. From there, he mentioned that he wanted to head to bar with his brother that night, which I assumed meant our date would be over late afternoon or so, as it was at least an hour drive back to his place. Instead, he asked me if I wanted to go with him, and I was amazed he didn’t mind driving that much, but I figured, “man, he must really like me!’ and got excited.

 

The drive to his place was interesting.  We learned a lot about one another, and I found out he was not only recently out of the army, but also a recovering drug addict, republican, and religious. Oh jesus fuck.  Nothing says romance than the practically straight edge, liberal, agnostic and the boy who stands for everything she hates! I believe we even got into a small debate about politics, and if you know anything about me, it takes a lot to even engage me in political talk, let alone debate it.

 

Upon arriving in his town, we stopped at Wawa to get some coffee. Drinking the coffee, he turns to me and says, “Wanna see something?”.  Uh… sure, why not. We drive for a few minutes, and pull into a smallish park. As we’re sitting there, he begins to tell me about how this is where he used to come to make money. “Oh, did you clean up the litter or something?” Oh, Reese. Sweet, innocent Reese.  He explained to me how he would let older men suck him off for money, or drugs. Or, how they would jerk him off. Or, how they would just watch him jerk off.  “Uh huh… I see…” He let me in on the little codes and tricks used, how the way your wheels were turned, or the flashing of a head light would signify this or that. He showed me where he would take them, if they didn’t do it in his car. This was our first date, mind you, and the first time we had even MET in person. I was a bit overwhelmed, but trying to play it cool so the hot boy wouldn’t think me boring.

 

As we’re sitting there talking about it, (and him assuring me that it was ONLY because of the drugs, and he would NEVER do something like that otherwise), a beat- up old pick up pulls up in the spot across from us. Scott says so me, “Want to see what I’m talking about?” uh. No. No I did not. But I just said “…sure?”. I don’t know why he thought it was a good idea, or what he hoped to have come from it, other than showing me what he “used” to do, but there we were. Some things took place, of which I don’t remember, and we ended up following the truck. I don’t remember the details, other than somehow Scott knew that the truck wanted us to follow it, and so we did. After a few miles of this, Scott thought better of it, and we sharply pulled out of there, and took some windy way back to his house. On the way there, he told me how hard it was for him not to go back to that lifestyle, and how much he missed all the money he made. I really hope he gets tested on a regular basis…

 

I was already a bit weirded out, but then when we arrive at his house, I found out he still lived with his parents and older brother. So, the first time I meet this kid, not only is he showing me how he used to turn tricks for dope, but now I get to meet his entire family. His parents were the typical upper middle class religious family, sweet to the bone, and their house looked like every other suburban house. His brother came downstairs with his girlfriend, and they were both rocking the same style Scott was. Everyone was super sweet, but it didn’t make me feel any less weird.

 

After the novelty of meeting me wore off, they all left us alone, and Scott took me into the family room. We were playing around on the computer, when he begins to show me video from Iraq. Video of people being shot, and blown up, and heads being cut off. I nearly vomited, and excused myself. I sat in the living room for almost 40 minutes before he came to find me. The two beagles and I had gotten to know one another quite well at that point. Around this time, it was starting to get dark, and Scott’s brother, girlfriend, Scott, and I piled into the brother’s car and picked up some food. From there we headed to this bar, and spent HOURS there. Most of the time, I either sat at the bar alone, or with the brother’s girlfriend, while Scott ignored me and hung out with his brother. Hell, his brother talked to me more than he did. It was all really weird, and about 15 random old men hit on me and bought me drinks. We didn’t leave until the brother’s girlfriend fell off a bar stool, drunk as hell.

 

On the drive back to their house, Scott sat in the front with his brother, while I was left to tend to the girlfriend. A few blocks from the house, she threw up all over herself. Not that she woke up to do so or anything, and I  was given the task of cleaning her off. As soon as we got home, the boys went inside, and seemed to be hiding. I grabbed some paper towels, W, and some hot water and cleaned her, and the car, up. I don’t know how, but I managed to get this girl (who was a good 10 inches taller than I am) inside of the house, and on to the couch in the den, all by myself. Scott was ready to go to bed, and I think he was expecting me to come up with him. Instead I let him know that he promised to drive me home THAT night, and if he wouldn’t I would take a cab and send him the bill for it.

 

The drive back was completely silent, till we neared my area, where he proceeded to tell me how he was unable to be in a relationship and that he was really messed up (clearly), and he wasn’t ready for anything. I got completelyfreaked out and said “Relationship??? I don’t even know your last name!”  When we got to my place, he said, “We can still make out, if you want.”  I did NOT want to, and I’d like to say that I slammed the door to his car and went on my jaunty way. The truth is, however, I think we did end up making out, and the only rational thought as to why was, shit, if a boy who looks THAT good wants to make out, you make out!

 

I never heard from him again, nor did I contact him. So, while I’ve had crazier events happen on dates, or during hook ups, the overall disaster = The weirdest date of my life.  Being shown the spots he made money with sex acts for drugs, meeting his family, watching video of people dying, going to a bar and being ignored, having to clean up the vomit of a girl I didn’t even know…all in all, it was pretty wacky.

 

At least I got some free drinks out of the deal, right?

 

P.S. Cheryl would like me to mention that she now has a boyfriend. Being my best friend, she’s allowed to make such requests. So, if you all would, please congratulate her. She deserves it. (Don’t worry Cher, I won’t tell anyone how you didn’t lose your virginity until you were twenty-eigh…OOPS!)

Slight of hand, and twist of fate, on a bed of nails she makes me wait November 6, 2009

Three years ago today, I met my husband. I knew that night that he would be someone important in my life. I have never been one to take my time, to wait it out and make the most informed decision I could. Instead, I have always gone with my gut – jumping in without making sure the water was deep enough and hoped that everything I was feeling was as right as I believed it to be in that moment. Meeting Steve was no different, and while it might surprise some who knows us, and knows the situation now, I have no regrets about the speed or intensity of that relationship. We met Nov. 6th, we said I love you the weekend after Thanksgiving, a week or so later we moved in together, by March we were engaged and in June we got married. All in the same year. Most people thought we were crazy, and in retrospect they were probably correct. But the fact was, we were completely in love, and being together was the only thing that made sense.

 

The first time we hung out, we spent the night in my new apartment – no cable, no internet, no fridge. Just dvds, warm iced tea and cheez it’s (he was a vegan). Some hostess I was! We watched the entire third season of Friends, and when he was able to quote each episode as much as I was, I was completely and immediately smitten. Our first kiss set the tone for our entire relationship: At one point in the night, I made a comment about how adorable I was, and his response was simply “I’ve seen better”. He went in for the kiss and was promptly turned away, though a while later I relented. And there it was: He acted like a jerk, I ignored or got annoyed, and in a short amount of time, all was forgiven. Not exactly the healthiest routine to fall into, but it was our routine, and one that we got very comfortable in, for better or for worse.

 

The night he asked me to marry him, the night I said yes, I meant it more than I had ever meant anything. We both cried, he more so than I, and we began to plan our life together. And that’s what I signed up for – a life with this man I adored. I believed that by saying yes, I was saying yes to any and everything that came our way, that no matter what, we would work it out and we would be so much stronger because of it. I won’t sit here and list all of the reasons it didn’t work. Neither one of us was perfect, and in reality we were too messed up separately to make a complete, healthy unit together. But we loved one another, and wasn’t that all that mattered? I tried, for a long time, to make it work, to push through and try. In the end, there was just too much that had happened. I had lost the best parts of myself, and he became a stranger to me. I no longer recognized the person I married, and honestly, I no longer knew myself either. I had become all of the things I never wanted to be, and I had had enough.

 

For the longest time, to say the words out loud, “I’m getting a divorce”, made me want to crawl into a hole. I was completely ashamed, embarrassed, and felt like a failure. 28 years old, much, much too young to be going through this, and yet there I was. Harder still was everything that happened after I asked him to leave. We have been in and out of court, there is a protection order to keep him from contacting me, the whole ordeal left me feeling lost and heartbroken. I felt like I hadn’t tried hard enough, that if I just kept pushing for it, we’d be okay. I wondered if he loved me at all, and if he had, why he couldn’t just be better, why he couldn’t just be the husband I needed him to be. I thought it was because I wasn’t good enough, because I wasn’t worthy of someone loving me for a lifetime. Nevermind the fact that his issues were there long before I came into the picture. Nevermind the fact that us not being able to work had everything to do with the fact that is just wasn’t the right relationship for either of us to be in at that point in our lives. Nevermind the fact that he did everything he could to destroy us, and to make sure I could never be with him, even if he didn’t realize that’s what he was doing.

 

We have been separated for about 6 months now. So much has changed, so much is different now, and there’s no way we could ever go back to being a couple. But I still think about him every day. I still love him and hope he finds peace within himself. I have gone over every moment of our relationship, trying to find something that may give me answers, and the only thing I can come up with is, “it just couldn’t be”. It makes me sad, especially because throughout this whole thing, I lost the best friend I’ve ever had, and we will never get that back. He was home to me for so long, and when he was no longer there, I was utterly lost. I gained weight, I lost my job due directly or indirectly to the toll it took on me, I didn’t think finding another person to share myself with was something I would WANT, let alone find. But you know, just like every other thing in life, I wallowed, I worried, and I allowed it to consume me. And then I stopped. And I got up, and I started to find Reese again, and I’ve discovered that I really love Reese the adult.

 

I don’t regret my marriage, not for one second. I don’t regret loving Steve, and I don’t feel as though it was a mistake. I know he loves me, and wishes things could be different, he’s told me how sorry he is, and I believe him. For everything I have learned from being with him, about what I do and don’t want, what I am worthy of, what I feel is a healthy relationship, I am so grateful. I’ll ever stop caring for him, and I hope to always know how he’s doing. He still matters to me, and I hope whatever happens in our lives, we can always think fondly of the amazing moments we shared. I will never  love someone the way I did him, and that’s not to say I won’t or can’t love someone else again, or that I won’t be able to love someone else more. I just mean that this is something altogether unique in my life, and I am happy I was able to experience it. Three years is not a very long time, by anyone’s calendar. But in that time I fell in love, completely, and I picked myself up when that love was destroyed. I continue to surprise myself with my ability to come out on top, to just keep on keepin’ on.

 

28 and divorced. When I think about it now, it doesn’t sound so terrible. Instead, to me, it sounds quite hopeful. Here’s to hoping, right?

Brighter, whiter smile October 15, 2009

Having never experienced the traditional college dorm setting, I was intrigued when a boy I wasn’t really interested in, or attracted to, invited me to an end of the year bash at his school.  Alex and his friend drove the 35 minutes or so to pick me up, and the ride back to their school was spent listening to some horrible pop-punk bands that I had never heard of.

The party (or, parties, as they were taking place in all the various dorm rooms) were underway when we got there, and the night was an exercise in how to talk to drunk and or high college kids, all of whom were weird.  It should be noted that your bloggerist has a very low tolerance for smoke of any kind, and the mixture of tobacco and pot was giving me one killer headache. I decided to go hang out alone in Alex’s room until he was done with his friends. I played around on his computer, making various jokes in my head about the bands on his mp3 player, and waited for him to return.

30 minutes or so later, Alex returned, the door was locked, and the making out began. Things progressed as they often do, and I found myself giving one hell of a blow job to this boy 3 years younger than myself. He quickly finished (though I’m not sure if the duration had more to do with his age/lack of experience or my amazing oral skills…), and being a trooper, I allowed him to cum in my mouth. This girl don’t swallow though, and that left the awkward task of finding some place to put it. Being in a dorm room meant there was no bathroom unless I wanted to walk out into a hallway with a mouth full of … well, him.  He handed me an empty soda can, and I ever so gracefully discarded the contents of my mouth.

Wanting to wash the taste out, I grabbed a nearby bottle of Pepsi, and took a giant swig. No sooner did the liquid hit my tongue did Alex scream, “NO, Don’t!!!!!”. I quickly realized that my taste buds were being assaulted not by the vileness that is Pepsi, but instead by something chunky and strong. I had inadvertently taken a swallow out of the bottle his roommate used to dispose of his chew. That’s right. Instead of sperm being the worst thing in my mouth that night, I was treated to the spit and chewed up tobacco of some boy I had never met. I promptly threw up, twice, and made a mad dash for the bathroom.

…I still can’t drink Pepsi, and I always make sure to have my own bottle of water near by these days.

If you really wanted to screw me up, you should have gotten to me earlier October 13, 2009

Ah, rejection! I know you well.

The first time I got the courage to let a boy know that I was completely into him and wanted to get to know him better, his response was a simple, “I have absolutely no desire to hang out with or get to know you. CLICK!” (that was the sound of the phone being hung up in my ear). Can I just tell you how much fun it was to walk around the hallways in school with he and his friends making fun of me after that? It wasn’t bad enough that upper classmen still called me “Pussy” after I made the mistake of sharing a story with my speech and debate class freshman year about how I had to get a pussy willow removed from my nose when I was 2. Now I also had the Punk Brigade laughing in my face every time I ran into them.

My next experience was remarkably similar.   There was a boy, we’ll call him Darren, who I used to hang out with quite often with a group of mutual friends. To say I had a crush on him would be like saying The Arcade Fire is slightly pretentious.  Eventually (we’re talking months of pining) I gathered up the courage to let him know just how dreamy I thought he was, and that we should get together sometime minus our little group. His response?

“I’m completely asexual right now, but even if I wasn’t, I don’t think I would ever be attracted to you.”

… Well, thanks for being so mindful of my feelings, Darren!

You would think with those two experiences happening within a year or so of one another, I’d never talk to another boy again. Which maybe is what I should have done, but instead it made me realize that any other rejection I will ever face could not possibly be as soul crushing as those moments were, and so why not just go for it?  That was pretty much the point in my life where I stopped being scared and let anyone I was interested in know as much, no matter how slim the chances.

And the funny thing? Being assertive and secure enough to just not care if someone says “no” is apparently a huge turn on! Who would have guessed confidence would be such a hit? One of the best things I’ve learned in my life is that not everyone is going to like me simply because I like them. This says nothing about me, and instead just means they aren’t right for me. Knowing this,  knowing that I can only be me and hope they find me as charming as I find them and not being deflated if they don’t has been so incredibly freeing and rewarding.  Which isn’t to say it’s always worked, or that the rejections stopped there. Quite the opposite, I have heard every terrible thing you can say to someone when they ask you out, I have been stood up more times than I can count, I have been completely ignored, and best of all once I was told “You must have a really great personality to keep getting so many dates”, which I realize wasn’t actually a rejection because I wasn’t interested in the guy, and it was just via a conversation that we were having, but still. Who says that??

However, for every time I have been disappointed, there has been 5 great dates or romantic moments to make up for it.  Like one of the greatest first date I’ve ever had, where we just spent the day walking around the city, catching a movie, sitting in a park and talking for hours. Had I not been cocky enough to know that this kid should spend time with me, I would have missed out on a really great, fun, although brief relationship that I still think back on fondly.  Or suggesting to a virtual stranger that he should disregard the fact that legally he wasn’t supposed to be driving and come over and make out with me right away. From that came one of the best friendships I have ever had. Because of my complete lack of shame, I have been on dates that consisted of  3 hour road trips, and a first date where we randomly decided to each get a new tattoo. I’ve made out against half of  the buildings in Philadelphia, and I’ve been to some amazing restaurants I never would have tried on my own. I have had amazing conversation in the most random of places, and have met the most eclectic group of people I could ever imagine. The point is, I opened myself up, stopped worrying about the word “No”, and because of that, I have had experiences, good and bad, and really, what else is the purpose of being here?

We could steal time just for one day… October 4, 2009

Movies have ruined me.  From the first one I ever saw in the theaters (Snow White), I have been completely enamoured with the sweeping romance, the dramatic confessions of love, the happy ever afters. So it’s no wonder that real life never quite matches up, that “I love you” never seems as tortured and spectacular as it does when on film. Which, is a whole post in of itself, the drama and fantasy vs. how wonderful real life love is, or can be. That’s not this post though. This post is about some of  my favorite romances on film, the lines and scenes that have killed me, in the best way possible.

I present to you, in no particular order, my thoughts on The Most Romantic Movie Moments.

Chasing Amy: While part of me completely resents the notion that all lesbians really need is just a good deep dicking, I still love Chasing Amy, and find the scene where Holden confesses to Alyssa that he’s in love with her to be one of my all time favorite movie moments. She has just purchased for him a hideous painting and tells him it’s so he can remember her.  The idea that he would need such a silly momento to remember her drives him to tell her exactly how he feels, and in turn drives her to run out of the car, pissed. Who hasn’t had experienced that moment with a great friend? Where you finally realize, “Fuck, I love you”, and have no idea how to proceed from there. The end of the scene, where he gets out and follows her, and she walks away only to turn back and run into his arms? It gets me every time. Every damn time.

(Unfortunately, I can’t find any clip that shows the best part of the scene – where she runs up to him and kisses him. I trust you all have seen it though)

Walk The Line: Which just happens to be one of my all time favorite movies as it is. There was just something so amazingly pure about the love between June and Johnny, and while there are plenty of people who have serious issues with fact that their love started while he was still married, I personally have a different take on that, which I’m sure I will expand on at a later date.  There are plenty of romantic scenes in the movie, and I sigh in delight and recognition when they are in the hotel room and he won’t feed her the peanuts after they have slept together for the first time. I also adore the scene where he is coming to from detoxing, and she tells him, “You are not nothing”.  However, nothing beats the second to last scene in the film, where he asks her, one last time, while on stage, to marry him. I bawl like a baby each time I watch it, and really, how can you not?  I was unable to embed this, but here is the scene:  http://www.imdb.com/video/hulu/vi1882259481/

Harold and Maude: Now, I realize that a love story between a very young man and a woman in her 80’s is not be at the top of a lot of people’s “most romantic’ lists. And that’s fine.  I personally have always been attracted to the “wtf??” stories of love, where it makes no sense what so ever, and yet works completely. For those who haven’t seen the movie (and really, why haven’t you???), Harold is  obsessed with death, and trying to shock his mother with various fake death scenes. His mother is obsessed with finding Harold a love match. Instead, Harold meets Maude, a spirited, quirky woman who Harold instantly connects with. It’s weird, and it’s a bit unsettling, and it’s totally unexpected, but it’s also one of the most wonderful romantic relationship I have personally seen on film. The way Maude awakens Harold’s spirit is just simply beautiful.  I can’t  find my favorite scene online, but  if you haven’t seen the movie, please do. It’s wonderful. And keep an eye out for when Harold gives Maude a gift, and what she does with it. That’s, in my opinion, the most romantic scene of the movie.

Say Anything: Cliche as it may be, what list of most romantic movie moments would be complete without mentioning Say Anything? John Cusack as Lloyd Dobbler? What girl could resist? What makes this movie so special is that never does it try to hard. It just IS warm and sweet and funny and true to life. Okay, maybe not so much the story line about Diane’s father embezzling money from his clients… but the rest of the movie! The relationship between Diane and Lloyd is just so real. Most people find the boombox scene to be the most romantic, and don’t get me wrong, I love it. There is something so fantastic about the handsome boy standing outside your window, playing for you the song you first made love to, holding it up and silently screaming how much he loves you. However, for me, the actual scene when they first make love is the greatest. “Then why are you shaking?” “I don’t know, I think I’m happy”. Cameron Crowe is a genius, and Say Anything is one of the greatest movies of all time, period. You can’t help by fall in love with Lloyd, and you root for him the whole way through. Again, I can’t embed: www.dailymotion.com/swf/x125uc&related=0

(It’s around 2:12. This is the best I could find, sorry!)

The Notebook: I want so badly not be THAT girl, you know the one, who thinks Nicolas Sparks has any talent for the written word whatsoever. However, the first time I saw the Notebook, I had to go into the bathroom and compose myself for about 10 minutes after it was over. There is just something so gripping about a love that spans your entire life, that is so real that even after you have forgotten everything else, you always come back to the person who you’ve shared your life with. My favorite scene in the movie is easily the most popular scene, “It wasn’t over… it STILL isn’t over” , and then my boyfriend Ryan Gosling as Noah kisses Ally in the rain. I don’t think it even needs to be put here, because you’ve all seen… a hundred times.

Brokeback Mountain: In one of the most visually appealing films I have ever watched, two cowboys fall in love. Is it love? That’s been a hot topic of debate on many forums I’ve seen, but I think if you watch the film and come away believing the connection between Ennis and Jack is anything but the deepest love, you’ve missed the point entirely. “Jack, I  swear…” Tears me up every single time. The way the shirts are held inside of one another, the knowledge that the feelings they felt were so concrete… it’s all too much. For me, the most romantic scene of the film lasts barely a minute. Reflecting back on their relationship during a fight, Jack is remembering a moment when he fell asleep standing up, and Ennis comes behind him and holds him. The scene is just so moving, and so beautiful, and in it you can see not only how they cared for one another, but why now, years later, it’s so hard for Jack to let go of the idea that they could have had a life together. Brokeback is one of my top five favorite movies of all time, and there is honestly not one negative thing I can say about it.   http://www.dailymotion.com/swf/x37bsq&related=0

Excuse the words on the screen, this was all I could find, and it’s overlapped with words from the actual story, but the scene is still just as moving.

What Dreams May Come: The idea of soul mates is one I don’t really subscribe to. However, watching What Dreams May Come can convince you that true love is not only possible, but what we should all strive to find. Annie and Chris meet, fall in love, have children, and then a series of tragic events leads to Chris having to search for Annie in hell. The wonderful thing about the movie is that while heaven and hell are very present, it’s not in an overtly religious sense.  The best line, in my opinion, is spoken near the very end of the movie, “I found you in hell, I think I can find you in New Jersey”.  In this movie, heaven is what you need for it to be, and for Chris it’s the world his wife has made in her paintings. The most romantic scene, in an odd way I suppose, is when a tree his wife has painted after Chris has died shows up in his new world. The understanding that somehow they are still connected, that their love has made it’s way across the living world and death, is just beautiful, and so haunting.

The Story of Us: I’m not sure how well known The Story of  Us is. It stars Michelle Pfeiffer and Bruce Willis as a married couple who as soon as they send their kids off to summer camp separate. I love this movie, so much. It’s such a true to life showing of what a couple who is still in love with one another, but at a complete loss with how to continue a relationship that feels over would react. A million emotions are portrayed throughout the movie, and the whole time you’re unsure if they will get back together or not. One of my favorite scenes in the movie is a montage of their life together, and all of these moments – the children’s sicknesses, loss of pets, falling in love, sex on the kitchen counter, they are just so realistically done.  For me, the most romantic scene is at the end, when Katie decides that she does still love and care about Ben, and that she needs to be with him. Michelle Pfeiffer does such a great, emotional job of showing us why Katie has decided to work things out. I love this movie, and while my marriage didn’t work out, I can completely relate to the scenes showing the struggle to make the right choices, and to figure out what is best for you to do in regards to the person you love.  http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docid=1228116030243369872&hl

Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind: Eternal Sunshine is one of those quirky movies you can’t help but love. Or, completely hate. I don’t think there’s much of a middle ground with it. Who doesn’t wish they could go and erase events in their life, make it so they never happened, at least in your own mind? Clementine and Joel have been together a few years, until they break up and she decides to have him erased. He finds out, and decides to go and erase her as well. That sounds a lot more simplistic than the movie actually is, but I can’t do it justice.  As the memories of her are being erased from Joel’s mind, we’re taken through their relationship ups and downs, from their first meeting to the very end of it. What we don’t also know at first is that we’re seeing them meet again, for the second time, and we’re brought along on that journey as well. While his memories are being erased, he realizes just how much he loves Clem, and just how much he doesn’t want her gone from his memory.  There are so many amazing moments in this film – When in his memory they are trying to find a place to hide her, where she won’t be erased.  When at the very end of the erasing they make up a goodbye, and she whispers to him, “Meet me in Montauk”, which is why he’s so drawn to go there without realizing why.  The most romantic scene of the movie is the very end. They’ve gone on this amazing date, and then they find out that they have had the other erased from their mind, that they have had this whole relationship they can’t remember. It would be so easy to walk away after hearing all of the negative, terrible things said about the other, but instead they decide they are going to see what happens. I find this so brave, and so moving, and the idea that even after you’ve had someone torn from your memory, if they are the person you are meant to be with, you will find your way back to them is such a beautiful idea. I love it.   http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=48328691

There are at least 50 more scenes I could post on here, but I feel I have bored people enough with my self indulgence. What are some of your favorite romantic movie scenes?

Sound the Alarms! October 1, 2009

When I was in 9th grade, I became fairly good friends with a boy I had known since middle school.  For the purposes of this blog, we shall call him “Tate”.  After school I worked at my uncle’s CD shop, and Tate and I would regularly walk together, as his house was in the same general area. As the weather got warmer, we used to stop at this little water ice shop, and often sit and eat and talk. I never felt anything romantic for him, and looking back at pictures of myself at the time, I’m fairly sure the non-romance was mutual.

One random day, after we had gotten our water ice, Tate asked me if I had time to hang out or if I had to be at work right away. I didn’t have to be there till 4, and so Tate suggested we take our treats and go to this little spot behind the local Firehouse.  As far as I can remember, the conversation was mostly about a teacher we both disliked, and random bits of 9th grade gossip. Out of nowhere, Tate told me to close my eyes and put out my hand, because he had something for me (I swear). I was a little nervous, thinking something gross was going to be placed in my palm – a bug, or a frog or something else evil-boy like.

I was close… He took my hand, and moved it over, and I felt something odd. Skin and hardness… I thought it was an elbow? I opened my eyes and SHRIEKED! There, from this tiny little boy (he was about my height and half as chubby) was this GIANT hard penis, with some weird fleshy tip. Shorts down, face beaming, Tate felt this was the next step to take our friendship to.  In person, I had never seen ANYONE except family members naked, and I really had no interest in doing so.  And now, with out my consent, knowledge, or want, a giant uncircumcised penis was not only in front of my eyes, but in my hand.  It’s safe to say this is where my distaste for uncut boys has come from.

I quickly grabbed my stuff, knocking over my mango ice in the process, and got the hell out of dodge. I practically RAN to work, and I can’t remember talking much to Tate after that. He did come to me a few days later to apologize, and see if I hated him, but there wasn’t much to talk about otherwise. I was terrified that not only was this what all penis’  looked like (and no, there is nothing wrong with uncut boys, obviously. I personally find all penis’ to be ugly and comical. However, this was a traumatic experience, and so in my mind everything was much worse than it really may have been.), and I wanted no part of that.  The next time I even came close to one, I was 18 years old and in love, so it was decidedly less traumatic.

Since then, I’ve seen more than my fair share, and the one thing that never ceases to amaze me is how, even now as an adult, I have never met a boy who was anything but eager to show off their member, size and shape be dammed! My son had the same amount of  pride and excitement when he was little to whip it out and shake it at anyone who would look. Somethings never change, I guess.

Be gentle with me… September 30, 2009

First blog entries are a lot like first dates, aren’t they? How do I make myself seem charming enough to score a second meeting, but without giving away all of my material right away? Wit and charm and sex appeal oozes out, but how much is too much? Am I showing too much skin? Will you think me easy if I invite you back upstairs?

Well, just like every first date I have been on, all I can do here is be myself and hope for the best. Ideally, I’d like this blog to be peppered with stories of hilariously bad sexual episodes, awkward dates, and every day romantic life stories. I’d also love to dish out advice if it’s wanted, because while I may not be the best at following my own, I do believe I give great guidance.

The background: My name is Reese, and I live outside of Philadelphia, PA. I’m 28 years old, I have a 7 year old son, and I am married with the hopes of not being soon. I live in a house full of cats, a dog, and a turtle. I like to knit, am obsessed with movies, tv and music, and I have been known to read once in a while.  And now that we have that out of the way…let me start off my blog with the tale of my first date.

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As adorable as I may be now, the truth is I was a terribly unattractive child. Not only that, but I was awkward and shy, and as much as I enjoyed boys, I would have much rather been home with my nose in the latest Clive Barker book than out on a date.  By 7th grade, I had never really been on a date. I had had a boyfriend briefly in 6th grade, but that was more along the lines of holding hands for 5 minutes at lunch. And while that blossomed into one of my most valued school-aged friendships, it was never much more than that (unless you count touching my breast under my bra during our 8th grade field trip to Hershey Park. And I don’t).

In 7th grade I had a smallish group of friends, including Jackie, Kim, Justin and Jessy. Justin was newish to school, and HOT in the way that middle school boys in the 90’s were. Middle parted bowl cut, stone washed denim, flannel over some nerdy t-shirt- in other words, perfect.  I had an insta-crush on him, and the fact that he actually wanted to be friends with me made him that much more desirable. One day Jackie let me know we were all going to go to the movies, and there would be an even number of boys and girls. WELL! I agonized for days over what I would wear,  how I could make my hair look a little less horrible, if I could manage sneaking out of the house with makeup on or not. I’m not quite sure where I got the idea that Justin was to be my date, but it seemed to make sense to me.  My sister drove me to Justin’s house, where we were all to meet. I don’t remember much about it, other than there was a lot of wood pannel, and a spiral staircase. The others got there, and we all piled into the back of Justin’s dad’s beat up old station wagon.

We arrived at the movies, and when we got into the theater, somehow the boys ended up in one row, the girls in another. Being completely unaware of how dates worked outside of what I had seen on Swan’s Crossing or 90210, I believed this to be normal. I suppose for 7th grade it is. The movie we saw was Mighty Ducks 3 (I think. Is that the one where they go to the Olympics? I know, I too am shocked that I can’t remember which cinematic masterpiece it was. ), and through out, gummy bears were tossed, popcorn was spilled, and sneaking between rows so boys ended up next to girls happened. Justin sat between myself and Jackie. (can you hear the foreboding music, or is that just in my head?). After the movie was over, and no hand holding happened, I was ready to go home. My sister picked me and Jessy up, and that was that. My first “date”. A lovely experience.

Come Monday, I was pretty upset. I had all weekend to dwell on the injustice of being ignored by Justin, and when I got to Algebra I learned that Jackie and Justin were now an item. WHAT THE FUCK?? I don’t know how that happened, nor did I have any clue she even liked him. So not only did I lose out on the boy, I also felt completely betrayed by my friend. Justin was in my math class, and being dense, had no idea why I was upset. After some back and forth between us, he got annoyed and began to (once again!) ignore me. I had had ENOUGH and made a comment about his hair- the snarkiest thing my 12 year old self could come up with. He was FURIOUS, and in his mind, the only thing to do was to take his pencil and stab me in the palm with it. IN THE PALM. With his pencil. It’s safe to say, looking back, I really dodged a bullet there! My only response was to kick him, hard, in the side/back, and take my bleeding hand to the teacher, who sent us both to the nurse and then principal. We both got detention, and my mom made me call him that night and apoligize. He stabbed me first, lady! On the plus side, Justin’s mom decided that the group of us were obviously too immature to handle going on dates, and he was no longer allowed to hang out with Jackie (victory was mine!).

And there you have it. My first date. Mighty Ducks 3 (or was it 2?), stabbing with a pencil that resulted in bleeding, kicks to vital organs and 2 days detention. And you know, the sad thing is, that doesn’t even begin to count as the worst date I’ve ever had.

Stay tuned for my next blog, where I will tell you all about the first time I saw a penis in real life, and why it would be another 3.5 years before I looked at another again…