Guest Blogger – 27swf: The Kiss That Cracked Me…Up

(This post is part of an awesome series of awesome 25swf guest bloggers- read about them here!)

On Sunday, my world stopped. Time became crystalline. Motion ceased. I pulled off the road into a Sunoco station and cried without mercy.

Here’s the part where I tell you, readers, that a lot of shit went down this year. I moved into my first apartment alone (no roomies or BF), I took on a huge professional challenge that tested my sanity and my strength. I was in a long, complicated, deep relationship that ended in an appropriately drawn-out, dramatic and ultimately exhausting fashion. There was professional stress (working three jobs while in grad school), a death in the family that left my mother in shambles — and me as her pillar of strength. Plus, it didn’t help that everyone around me seemed to be getting hitched (including a previous ex), knocked-up, or $100,000 job offers…

In an effort to counteract all this stress, I did what I’ve always done: I kept going, full speed ahead. I kept working. I kept dating. I ran. A lot. So much so that I had to take a month off to allow my knee to heel. I drank a lot of wine. I ate a lot. I starved a lot. Then I drank some more. I even contributed to a blog! I pushed forward because forward is the only direction we’re allowed to go in life.

And then, YTH kissed me. And I cracked.

It was simple kiss. Nothing major. And yet, my reaction spoke volumes about my life right now: I just can’t take it anymore!

For right now, for this week, maybe this month, I just can’t take any more expectations, potential, disappointments or stress.

Let me backtrack. YTH and I had gone on a date that night. As I had sat across from him, I hated myself because I just didn’t care about a thing he was saying. I didn’t care that he wanted to impress me with his skydiving, his jaunts through Europe, his published screenplay. Worst of all, I felt like I was putting on a show. Because what I really wanted to tell this guy is the shit I’ve been through this year — that I’ve been tried, exhausted, exhilarated, scared, broken, drunk, hurt — and that I’m finally reaching the other side. But I couldn’t. Because I felt like he just wouldn’t get it.

When he walked me out onto the street, he pulled me aside and I knew he was going to kiss me. But instead of letting the moment play out in all of its swirling, romantic potential, I did something super insulting.

I laughed.

“I’m sorry, that was awkward,” I said, “Did I ruin the moment?”

“Yes, you sort of did,” he replied. Then he kissed me anyway. And I let him because I figured it would brighten the mood.

Truth was, even though he’s a comedy writer, he didn’t get the humor of the whole situation. Because let’s be honest, what could be more ridiculous than someone like me, at this moment in time, on a date with cheerful YTH as he makes an innocuous and clueless move on me outside the dive bar where I’ve just kicked his ass at pool.

We parted ways. He called out that we should swap screenplays and I agreed. He took off in his car, and I got into mine.

And for the first time in 2 and a half years, I couldn’t have been happier to get home and crawl under my big, beautiful down comforter. And have it all to myself.

With love,


A Brush with (Vow) Death

grim reaper

He's come for my VOW!

I had a brush with Vow death the other night.

For those who may be still catching up, basically I’ve taken a vow of no touching, kissing, foundling, sex, and all the above for 6 months. The Vow comes up for review May 20. Today, it’s been two months, 60 days of success…so far.

Lately I have been hanging out with a mutual guy friend for a few months now. Here and there we would hangout as a trio, or sometimes him and I would do something random.

The other day we honored MLK by taking the long way home, and just driving around. It was gorgeous outside (lately it’s been 30 degrees and windy), but this day was warm-sunny-and perfect “outing” weather.

We decided to trek to Route 66, making stops along the way at Thunderbird Lake…flying a kite. Drinking wine. Eating salmon and brie from a picnic basket he acquired from some aunt. It was so…awesome, actually.

Just to be out with a guy. Not in a date way. Just doing our thing and enjoying life. Exploring. Sharing music. “Oh! you will love this song!” and “This is my favorite one!!” pretty much summed up the in-car convos.

We even stopped by his home because he grew up in the country and it was literally on the way. I met his mom and dad, their bagillion German shepherds (they’re breeders) and an awesome 90’s Honda scooter that I totally dominated. And by dominated, I mean I drove around in a circle and didn’t fall off or run over anything, including myself. He even has a camper. Like an old people, travel-the-country-in-this-lil’-mofo, checkered curtains CAMPER. It is possibly the coolest thing I have EVER seen in my life. But I downplayed it, “That’s…cool…” Because acting impressed was the last thing I wanted to do. BUT I WAS.

The traveling day took us up to Arcadia where we indulged in some soda drinking at Pops. I love that place. And then we trekked home for some movie watching and leftovers eating.

I don’t really know how it happened that we ended up with wine glasses and the creepy clown in the attic. But we did.

To clarify, there’s an open door on the second floor of my apartment building and it leads (excitingly) to a semi-empty attic. There are a couple of (nice, actually, by my standards) bikes, a long bench seat, some Christmas decorations and this weird clown doll, or jester as he called it. That really has nothing to do with the “brush” with death, but it’s just so freakin’ strange, how can I leave the clown out? Maybe, if you guys are interested, I’ll take some pictures sometime and post about the JESTER BARN ATTIC, which it has so recently been dubbed by yours truly (with a little bit of help from the wine and said guy).

So we are sitting on the long bench seat. Drinking wine. Chatting about all sorts of stuff. And to defend the upcoming thoughts in my head, just to give you a bit of info on this random “guy”… He is actually really cool. He is genuine, smart, handsome, incredibly giving and to top it off…he has worked for everything he has. He has 5 brothers, and 1 sister. Dang, I know. His father taught him how to build fences growing up so he’s like a Boy Scout on crack. Or some other illegal, performance enhancing drug. **It’s debatable, but I think crack can be performance enhancing given the situation**

So back to the sitting. We are sitting there. Drinking wine (probably the first noted ‘no-no’ in a Vow situation), chatting it up, laughing… And then he says, “Can I admit something? Can I be honest with you.”


“I know you aren’t looking for anything, I kind of talked to (our mutual friend), but I want you to know I’m pissed. I understand what you are doing. And completely respect it. I’ve been there and I’ve done it. But I’m pissed. Because I really want to kiss you right now.”

It was tempting…seriously, it was. I didn’t even entertain the idea when he first said it because since I took The Vow I’ve kind of mentally shut down that part of my body.

And what made it more tempting…he’s leaving in less than a month off to another country. He’s moving to Korea for the next year to learn the language. So while starting something isn’t smart. Enjoying each other, even a simple kiss, would be so nice.

NICE? Nice isn’t a reason to break a vow. Dummy!

It’s not really The Vow itself. It’s the fact that I have committed to something, this 6 months…and I MUST succeed. I failed at my last attempt to not be in a relationship and we all know how that ended. I have to prove it to myself that I can go for 6 months, despite ANY kind of challenge.

Even if the challenge seems worthy, ideal, and is leaving for a year.

Damn it. I think I’m learning lessons.

Vow in Tact, yours strengthfully (which possibly may not be a word because it has red squiggles under it),