Chikyle

And then there was Chikyle...

I  have this issue with attracting people from Sandy, Utah. Boys from Sandy seem to be a strange strain of human, who just don’t quite get it. (Well at least the ones that I meet.)

I actually met Chikyle the exact same night that I met 18 Hour Date Guy. Ironic, right?

Chikyle wasn’t very nice to me that night. As I was following Cutie Patootie around and looking at his hot motorcycle, Chikyle kept making jokes that alluded to him thinking that I was dumb or something. I really do not appreciate it when people treat me as if my hair color or the pitch of my voice reduce my IQ to a low functioning number. I will probably be very sarcastic back to you, or even throw down a slightly rude comment- so slight and dripping so thick with sarcasm, that you don’t even know that I am making fun of you.

          Clearly, the rest of that evening was monopolized by 18 Hour Date Guy’s pursuits after me. However, I met Chikyle again. And again.

The Sunday following THE 18 HOUR DATE, I had a really rough day. I was damaged to my core from the night before, and the rest of that day did nothing but aggravate my unstable state. As I walked down the steps at church after leading the music to the congregation, I was approached by 4 old men- the ecclesiastical leaders of my area. Each of them said almost the exact same thing so me, “Thank you so much for leading the music. Did you know that you have the most beautiful, perfect smile? You are just gorgeous- You really just glow up there!”

My reply: “Thank you. Yes I have heard that before.”

I know… I probably sounded a little full of myself, but I really didn’t know what to say to all of them over and over again. I felt very uncomfortable and even a little ill.I felt like I needed to hide and not be stared at for a second longer.

About 18 steps later, a boy jumps in front of me and asks, “So when are we going to make cookies together?” I really didn’t know who he was, nor did I know when I agreed to bake with him.

So I asked, “When did I agree to make cookies with you?”

He proceeded to explain that one time we talked for a second and he mentioned that I should make cookies and deliver them to manufacture opportunities to meet more people.

I scheduled a time with him for a couple days later in order to escape the close proximity of our bodies.

I made it about 20 more steps to the doorway of the meeting room, and then there was Chikyle. He stopped me, said hi, and struck up a casual conversation. One of my roommates had been following me through my walk and had thankfully stopped for this conversation.

I, naturally, was oh so charming and I just sparkled away. He followed me to my little Sunday school class and sat down next to me.

At one point, I pulled my cell phone from my pocket to replay from a text. As I started to put it away, he snatched it from my grasp and pulled the whole, “call myself from your phone so that I can get your number and not have to be a man and ask for it.”

          He preceded to text me throughout the class, even though he was sitting so close to me that all of our limbs were touching. The type of text messages that I was receiving went something like this: “Oh my gosh you are so gorgeous. Did you know that? Thanks for sitting by me. Wow you are so funny. What are you doing later? I want to take a cutie thing like you out sometime. I wish I was with you right now. This would be way more interesting if you were here and teaching.  Hey… babe, hun, cutie, sweetie…” These distasteful purging of all icky-ness went on throughout the day. Plus also… I hate being called pet names by people who I don't love. I am not your baby, your sweetie, and I am most definitely not your love. I just puked in my mouth a little.

          I had a huge melt down. I got home from church and I started to cry- a lot.  My roommates worried about my mental health as I sat on the kitchen counter and had a panic attack.

          I called my mom and all she did was laugh at me. I filled her in on the night before with 18 Hour Date Guy, and then this day full of old men and lost boys.

I told her that I didn’t understand why I was attracting these kinds of people and that kind of negative attention. I explained that I had been praying to be led to people that would make me a better person and who would build me up etc.

She just burst out into uncontrollable, rolling laughter. Then she spit out these fateful words through her gasping laughter, “Maybe that is why you are meeting these lost boys. Maybe they are making you a better person?”  Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha.

I cried even harder and yelled a nice, big, “Oh my gosh mom! Shut up! That was so mean. I can’t believe you just said that to me! I. Hate. My. Life! This isn’t a joke!”

          She laughed harder, but tried to force out a fake apology.

           I blamed her for my life. She branded me with the label of Wendy and bred me to believe that I had to always say yes to a first date and be lovely all the time!

She felt no remorse.

       Chikyle did not disappear from my life even though I declined an invitation to go and play games with him and his hipster friends that night. It was progress though people. I didn’t go even though “the nice thing” would have been to just go and play a little game.

      A few days later, I got a text from Chikyle asking me what I was up to. I told him the truth- My friend Brittani was coming over and we were going to jump in the hot tub and vent about life.

    He mentioned that he might stop by my apartment and say hi. I just said ok, thinking Brittani and I wouldn’t even be there and I could easily get rid of him if he did show up. Brittani rolled in and it started to snow. We sat in my apartment and chatted, while we contemplated going in the hot tub even though it was snowing in April. I kept getting texts from Chikyle. He was confusing me with his comments. I thought he lived pretty close me and he might just drive on over and poke his head in.

Around ten that night he mentioned that the bus was just about to pull up to the stop near my neighborhood. BUS?!?!? I then asked where he was coming from. Sandy. At that point I didn’t know he was from Sandy. 18 Hour Date Guy was from Sandy and so were all his creepy little friends who made me feel like I needed to wear more clothing.

I had a panic attack again. Brittani watched as I ran around mumbling loudly, “Oh no! Sandy!  Crap! He took a bus from Sandy? Ah! It is already so late. How do I get rid of a guy quickly who took a us from Sandy and it is snowing outside?”

   Brittani laughed at me a lot, but provided a needed support when Chikyle finally burst through my door.  Brittani stayed by my side on the couch for about an hour or so. She was also charming and nice and helped me facilitate conversation. We had made a plan that I would simply say to him, “Hey I have a bunch of stuff to do. Thanks for stopping by- I’ll see you again sometime.”

I realized that I had a serious problem. I simply can’t tell people to “get the heck out of my house”, or “Thanks, but no thanks. I really am not interested.”

Brittani was sick of watching me suffocate myself with the situation. She made her escape. I walked her out to her car and she gave me a quick pep talk. She is very supportive. I was just going to march in there and kick him out.

So I marched. And then I…. sat down and talked. However, I didn’t give up on my mission quite yet! I gave it another 10 minutes, threw out a little yawn, and told him that I was super tired and I had a few things to do before I needed to go to bed. I had a patient at 8 A.M. you know!

He kept talking… and talking… and talking. And then he would try to tickle me. Yes.

And that is where he crossed the line. Don’t tickle me. I get violent and lose control over my limbs. I think I warned him that if he didn’t stop, he would get hurt. (I had head-butted a friend once on accident while being tickled.- If he got head-butted that night- it wouldn’t have been an accident.)  

     He made a comment of something like, “So you are trying to kick me out egh? Well I am not leaving yet. I just got here, and I don’t want to go over to my friends’ house. I would WAAAAY rather be here with you.”

Oh now… isn’t THAT flattering?! (puke)

          I don’t remember all of the conversation the rest of that night, but I do remember my facial expressions. Facial expressions like that get burned into your muscle memory and you never forget. These expressions were those of pure shock, discomfort, and abhorrence.

However, one of the topics that was discussed was that he didn’t go on a mission. He was shipped out to Utah to live with his sister so that he could get out of trouble, move out of his rebellious stage, and clean up his life.

         Really? Why on earth do boys feel like they need to tell me how messed up they are? I really don’t want your dysfunction dripping onto my couch. Wipe that up before it makes a mess in my life.

        My roommates kept a close eye on me and would sit down every once in awhile in order to not leave me feeling abandoned. At midnight, they gave me “the eyes”. The ones that say, “girl, get him the heck out of here. We hate him. Do you want me to cut him for you? Even if you don’t, I am going to anyways, because I want him gone that badly.”

You know… “THE eyes”. 

So I did it. I pulled all my guts to the surface and I said it, “Ok Chikyle, get out of my apartment. You really need to go now.” (Of course I said it in the sweetest possible way.)

He whined with a, “Are you serious? Oh come on! We are having so much fun babe!”

Ummm…. No.

“Nope, Chikyle. Seriously, it’s time to scram.”

He packed up his backpack with his life in stow, and I pushed him out the door.

      Luckily, I never let Chikyle back into my house or even saw him in that kind of social situation again.

         However, to this day, I still get random texts from Chikyle asking, “Hey babe. How you doin’?”

         Oh Chikyle! Get yourself a Tiger Lily or something.

Lost Girl / Shot down Wendy Bird

(A Bipolar ranting from several different episodes in my life)

So this Wendy is going to take some convincing.

 Falling in love is going to be hard to do I think. I have just had so many awful experiences and then some averages. I may have been in love before or even just been very excited about the possibility… but it has always ended in a little broken heart. Then my heart mends to a tougher state.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not a bitter ol’ maid yet. My heart is not a heart of steel. I think I have gone from jello to a hard candy shell. It can be melted.

But… what is it going to take?

I have actually been dating quite a bit lately. More than ever before in my life as matter of fact , and so far, I have not been all that impressed. I haven’t had any overwhelming feelings of “I have to see him again”. 

I have had the thought. “He was cool. I’d see him again if he asked.”

And I haven’t been too upset if they don’t call.

But a reality has set in, that love isn’t easy. I thought that once I found someone who wasn’t lost, I would be set and I would know it right away. Sounds easy, right? However, I have been surrounded by so many lost boys that I find myself a little lost in their world.

I don’t care about being committed

I would rather not see most boys again after kissing them.

I like having freedom to be whomever I want to whenever I want to.

So when I am getting called baby and love, all I want to do is puke in my mouth and run away,

Not so healthy for a 21 year old Mormon girl.

Pretty soon, the mother mafia is going to be after me. There will be too many questions about when I am going to finally get married or since I am not married, when am I going on a mission?

Ladies… not everyone has to go on a mission if she is 21 and not married.

I think that today I am a lost girl.

How could I have avoided this? It seems almost like a fate that karma has slapped me in the face with. I have been slapped in the face with a big slimy karma fish.  But really, I put myself in this position. I wanted to be here. Free and independent with the wild side I never had. Why am I becoming less mature as my life is steadily progressing? It is probably fear; a fear of the unknown and the feelings that I possibly missed out on some grand adventure that I was supposed to have in college.

But hey, why not think like Peter?.... “To die would be an awfully big adventure”. But to “Live is an awfully big adventure” too! (Hook)

Why not make everything my new awfully big adventure?

I could do that.

I had taken a lot of personality type quizzes lately. One of them said that I am probably too optimistic. Being too optimistic can hinder your ability to use critical thinking and to problem solve.

Excuse me?!

I don’t think so. Optimism makes you burst from the cages in your mind.

That’s what I think.

I am a great problem solver.  (Ask my old roommates… I fixed a lot of tires, and mended some broken hearts and got us out of icky situations.)

The Wendy Bird wasn’t really shot down. She just got stunned for a little bit. She was sleepy. (Maybe she had mono?)  She may have felt a little lost sometimes, but she never really was. She knew where home was and she knew how to take care of herself and the people she loved.

She loved her brothers. And she loved the lost boys… like little brothers.

And she took them home with her and let her mom be their mother. Then she grew up. She left Neverland, and never went back. She left the nursery; she got married and had her own daughter. She let her own daughter go to Neverland and make her own life choices; which is what I will do.

We all need moments where we choose not to grow up; when we play pretend for just a little bit. It’s fun. But then we remember… it’s not real. We have to put down the toys, get some pixie-dust, high-tail it out of Neverland, book it from the nursery and decide that living is going to be our next awfully big adventure. When we decide that, no pirates can stand in our way; no other lost boys, no Tinker Bell, and no Tiger Lily.

It’s us, the real world, and another grown, up setting off into the awfully big adventure of life together; conquering any real life crocodiles in our way.

THAT is the real adventure; not the silly games, nor the dangerous feats!

This Wendy Bird just woke up… so I am flying away from the little house my lost boys have built around me, with the label on the front door. I am ready to start committing!

I am not your Wendy.

I don’t even need magic to get out of Neverland. I just need to open my eyes, open my own door, and leap.

My story is definitely not over.  There are many more stories to be told. There are so many characters that you have not met, and you have not yet seen Neverland. So don’t you fret. You’ll see it all.

Plus also… To really live is my next awfully big adventure.

Dear lost girls/ Shot down Wendy Birds and/or Tiger Lilies and Tinker Bells,

Wake up. Open your labeled door. And get out of Neverland.

There is a grown up waiting for you at home.

Dear lost boys/ Pirates/ Peter’s,

Please grow up. Follow your Wendy out of Neverland. She has magic enough to help you a little too. If you won’t leave… then let her go. Her daughter might just come back later and maybe then you’ll be ready. But you’ll probably even meet her granddaughter if you aren’t ready now. But right now, there are some awfully big adventures going on in the real world. You don’t have to let Neverland define you either.

Xoxox,

Your (flying)Wendy Bird

Eyes Up Here

Meet Marvin Marshalls. Marvin Marshalls is another boy whose eye I got caught in at church. (Yes I do know that the saying is “whose eye I caught”, but that is not what actually happened.)

It all started out because I was nice. Marvin Marshalls had come to visit a friend at our singles group at church. We also happened to have a dinner after church that day. In the line for food, I struck up a small, polite conversation. I asked him his name, if he was new, where he was from. You know… all the same old questions.  He had just returned from a 2 year church mission from India, and was definitely still socially stunted. However, he conversed with me with great energy and excitement! I ended the conversation with a smile and an eye twinkle (my signature).

            I sat down with my best girl friend to eat. Marvin Marshalls sat down with his guy friend. About 5 minutes later, he got up, brought his plate, and sat down next to me. I knew at that moment that I had just gotten myself into a little bit of a predicament. I still continued to smile and be nice throughout the meal, even though he decided to stare at me when he thought I wasn’t looking.

            Exactly one month later, he showed back up at church on the Sunday dinner day. When he saw me, he decided he wanted to give me a hug. I don’t think that he had hugged a girl in way over two years, because the hug felt more like a truck hit me. A was probably a hundred pounds heavier than me and 6 or more inches taller than me, so when he chest ran into me at a more than casual walking speed and his arms flailed and slammed me in the back, I did not feel very good afterwords.

            I replied to his hug with an “Oh wow that was aggressive”. It popped out of my mouth like word vomit, but he just blushed and said that it had been awhile since he’d hugged a girl. To recover from my lack of tact, I said, “Yeah, that’s one of those things you have to get more practice in once it has been awhile.” I don’t think I recovered well.

            He proceeded to follow me around the building, to my table and to watch me eat for the rest of that evening.  Just as I was getting up to go home and make my escape, he quickly stood up in front of me. SIDE NOTE: A member of the church was sponsoring a BBQ date night for everyone a month in the future.

He stumbled through his words, “So Cara, are you going to the BBQ?”

I replied, “Umm, well, no I am not.”

Marvin: “Well are you opposed to uh going to it? Or are you like busy, is that why you aren’t going?”

Me: “No…Marvin, are you trying to ask me if I would like to go to it? Are you trying to ask me on a date?”

Marvin: “Umm yeah. Would you like to go to the BBQ with me?”

Me: “Yeah Marvin, I would like to go with you. You definitely asked far enough in advance, so I should be able to make that work.”

(It is really hard to convey, but this whole dialogue was really awkward. I should have probably said no, but my mother always said that I needed to say yes to a first date. “Always give someone a chance”. Also, there were about 15 people who were very aware that he was trying to ask me on a date. The room was silent and 30 eyes were on us. Very uncomfortable.)

Throughout the rest of the month as we anxiously a waited the night of this glorious date, his friends teased me about going out with him (great friends huh?) and I continued to receive truck hugs in the hallways of church.

            The night finally arrived! He picked me up for the date in his little sister’s car very early. He started driving and asked me where the date was to be held. I had never been there and I had told him that several times before. He failed to get directions even though I told him to do so previously. I started out this date in an annoyed state. We drove to his friend’s house and found a couple that was also on their way to the date and we followed them.

            I was so feeling that I did not want to be with him any longer. One reason was because I had a very big midterm the next day, which I was not yet prepared to take.  (I would use this to my advantage later however.)

Luckily, my girl friends showed up to the house a few minutes after we did. However, while I waited, I was faced with a situation I had never before been in, or at least I had never before noticed.

            Marvin Marshalls was staring at my chest. I was modestly dressed, but felt like I needed to pull my tank top up to become a turtleneck. This is the first time in my life that I felt like an object or a piece of meat. I am sure that a guy has looked, but this guy was having a conversation with my cleavage.  I was sitting higher than him, so in order to bring our eyes on the same plane, I moved from the arm of the couch down to the seat.  It didn’t help.

I tried very hard to not get even more upset with this individual and to make anyone else uncomfortable. I made it through the dinner and through the game in a stellar fashion.

However, during some mingling, my best friend leaned over and whispered in my ear that Sammity Spamitty was staring at my chest the entire night. With wide eyes I turned to find, that yes, indeed, he was staring. I got a little upset and told her that Marvin Marshalls had also been staring. I asked her if my shirt was a lot lower than I perceived it. She said that I was totally fine.

Well Grrrrr!!! Stop staring at me!!

Meanwhile during conversation, I found out that this was Marvin Marshalls first date. Not his first date since being back from India…his first date EVER. He was 22 years old. This explained the weird comments, the painful hugs and icky looks. But I mean really, that is just ridiculous. TWENTY-TWO YEARS OLD… you should have at least gone to a school dance or an ice cream date in high school. This behavior is just unacceptable. When I have kids, they will be required to go on dates so that they can become socialized.

Everyone else seemed to be dispersing from the house, but Marvin Marshalls was lingering. He asked if I wanted to go do something else fun. This is where my test came in handy. I had previously mentioned that I had a test in the morning, so when he asked if I wanted to go out and do something more, I was able to say, “Oh you know, I really need to go home and study a bit and get to bed earlier since I have that big midterm SOOOO early.”

Luckily, he said he understood. And I got to go home. At the door, I gave him a side hug, since my ribs were bruised from our greeting.

Future lost boys… Eyes up here please! 

.... I am sick of hearing: " You have perfect teeth and breasts.", "You have the biggest boobs ever." "Your husband will be a lucky man". "Did you know your tits are huge?" 

Yeah... I know. So please, eyes up here. I am not meat.

Here's The Deal

So this is it... I will write more, if I know that more people are reading this thing! I have quite a few almost finished stories, but they are more intended for the book version of my life. However, if I find out how many people are actually reading and if I can get a few more, than I will post them. SOO... leave comments here and on my other posts if you are reading.... AND share it. I don't want to really write a book that no one is going to read. So help me find out if it is worth it!!

XOXO
Your Wendy Bird

Tinkerbell

So thanks to my darling Lexie, I have come to recognize the Tinkerbells in this world and the moments that I have been a Tinkerbell.

Who is she you ask?

Tink is the girl that is stuck in the “friend zone”.

This is a really hard place to be stuck in. Why? Because it is a delusion. All the time you are spending with your Peter Pan, you feel like it is going somewhere, that there is a level of commitment and understanding. He however, is simply viewing you as his best friend. He speaks highly of you to other people and strings you along making you feel special. But you are “just friends”, and that is never going to change; even if you get jealous of the other girls in his life and try to sabotage them. You can start gossip, pull her hair or be mean to her in front of Peter, but he will only get upset with you and make you out to be the bad guy. He is completely innocent in this situation in his eyes. The poor clueless fool can't see beyond your constant companionship and loyalty to your real intentions and your puppy dog love for him.

Tinker Belle is really the best kind of friend even though she has jealousy issues. And oh these are some pretty big issues. Let’s discuss them for a moment. Territorial is one of the best ways to describe a Tink. She cannot stand to see Peter even talk or look at another girl, let alone like her. But all the while she tries to pretend that nothing is wrong and that yes, “we are friends”, “best friends”.

Warnings to Peter’s: Do not have a best friend be a girl. You may not know it, but she might be a Tinkerbell.

So the best qualities of a Tinker Belle: She is loyal, protective, always there when you need her, intuitive of your needs, super cute, charming to everyone around her, and fun. She will always whip out those perfect qualities in your presence.

Everyone will love her. But she is blind to the admiration of anyone else around her. Peter is the most important man in her life.

She would do anything for him; even drink poison.-which she does. Sometimes, over and over again, because she loves Peter and he is dumb and doesn’t listen to her. This poison is sometimes self inflicted, however, because Tink is selfless when with Peter. She does things that are bad for her to make him happy. What could some of these things include? She turns down other opportunities to make new friends or spend time with other people, because he needs her or she feels like she has to. She puts up with his stupid lost boy friends even though they might be crude, annoying and rude. She might just start to dream about their future together because she is trapped in the delusion.

She is resilient however! The applause from the audience always revives her. Who is her audience? It’s her girl friends who always know how to keep her alive. It can even be her mom cheering for her (mostly because she is afraid she will never get married).

To be continued….

While You were Sleeping

About a month passed. I didn’t see CAT for quite some time, and if I did it was friendly and brief.

All of a sudden… I could feel him wiggling his way back into my life. But it was ok.. because he knew that we were JUST FRIENDS. I told him. He said he got it. We were buddies!!! Right?

So there I was. Sitting at home alone. Everyone was gone for that entire night.

So I started to watch a movie by myself. I then got a call from Carlton Archibald Toupee he said he was passing me and asked if he could stop by. I said, “yeah sure. I am just watching a movie and then I am going to go to bed. You can come say hi for a bit.”

So he did.

We watched whatever movie I was watching and he sat a comfortable distance away from me.

But I was weak. I could not keep my eyes open. So I gave in and drifted off to sleep.

A FEW hours later, I was awakened in a very strange way. It took me several minutes to really realize what was going on.

The rest of this story is not nice. You do not have to continue reading. I am taking a more serious approach because this was not ok.

Carton Archibald Toupee had his tongue down my throat. But something was wrong with me. I could not fully wake up and process what was happening.

I was still asleep and my body was fighting to go back to that state. My mind was fighting to be in control.

My eyes rolled open and closed, but my contacts were all foggy and I couldn’t see. I couldn’t move my limbs.

He tried to. I could feel him lift my arms around his neck and position my chin.

I finally could sense how unsafe the situation really was. I got that panic fight or flight, tightness in my chest and was able to gain control of my arms. I put them to his chest and pushed away from him.

He asked me, “What’s wrong? Have you never been kissed like this before?”

Like THIS… umm… NO!

I told him he needed to get off of me and go home. I was able to stand and attempt to walk him out and slam the door.

However, I didn’t achieve my goal. I was slammed up against the door frame and again, his tongue went down my throat.

He pulled away for one second to whisper, “Oh man, you are just so hot.” Then he dove back in.

I finally built up enough strength to pry him off of me.

He asked, “What are you thinking?”

I replied with a look of pure disgust, “Well, I am thinking that you totally just crossed a line.”

He started freaking out a little bit saying things like: No, no, nothing happened. It’s ok. It was good. Now we are more than just friends.

I interrupted at that last comment with, “No Carlton. We are not more than friends now. I am never going to date you. THIS is never going anywhere.”

He pushed my hair behind my ear, smiled and said, “You are just really tired. I think you should go get some sleep and I think you’ll feel differently about it in the morning.”

That made me vomit in my mouth.

“No, Carlton. I will not feel differently in the morning. You need to go and you aren’t allowed to talk to me anymore.”

I pushed him from the door, closed it, and locked it.

Needless to say, I finally learned my lesson from Carlton Archibald Toupee.

Yes, I was really dumb. I should have decided to banish him long before. I was in a very unsafe situation, which could have gotten out of control in seconds. It was really a miracle that I was able to gain control of the situation.

Now I have rules that I don’t break.

You should make some too.

The DTR

We have previously discussed Carlton Archibald Toupee (CAT). This particular lost boy has caused some serious grief in my life.

I had decided after the whole marching band competition, that I would simply let him be my friend. It was nice to have someone to talk to sometimes, so I kept him around but at a distance.

I hadn’t seen him much over the rest of that fall season, nor into the winter. When I got back from Christmas vacation, he could sense my return to Utah Valley. He texted me and asked if I wanted to come over and watch a movie at his new place. I was hanging out with my brother at the time and one of his girl friends, so I said I could if they could come to. He was fine with that situation, but I could sense his displeasure through his words. When we arrived to his house, I chose the couch that was in the weird orientation to the TV, hoping he would return to his spot on the “good” couch. He didn’t. He plastered himself right next to me. My brother laughed a little at the swift move.

As the movie started (“Better off Dead”), I moved a little away from CAT, and he leaned in closer. I’d take a scoot and he’d slide over. My brother and his friend were laughing so hard at me. But poor CAT didn’t get it.

Then…check this… He decided he would like to touch me. Possibly attempt an arm around me? So how did he execute this desire? Oh… he decided to stick his arm into the crack between the back cushions and the seat cushions. His hand then reappeared on the small of my back. Then the grazing started. He continued to graze my back with his finger tips for about 10 minutes. All I could think was, “Just don’t move! If you don’t move, maybe he’ll go away!” Eventually that lovely moment ended.

But he didn’t stop there.

I started to fall asleep, so I leaned away from him, put my elbow into the couch, leaned my head on my hand, and closed my eyes.

Meanwhile, my extra hand that was nearest to him was half way in my front pocket. Only my pinky and ring finger remained exposed.

I drifted off for a few moments until I was awakened by a creeping on my hand.

There his hand was… stroking my pinky and ring finger that were open to the elements.

I ignored it, because who would continue that behavior if there was no response back.

My eyes remained close. Surely he knew I was asleep.

Oh no no.

And then he pounced.

His hand grabbed onto my little helpless fingers. There he held for many a minute. Again I just kept thinking, “Don’t move!” It had worked before, right?

He just kept holding on. With about 5 minutes of the movie to go, he finally realized I hadn’t moved… and assumed I wasn’t interested.

I was sleeping!!! Weird.

Left his house feeling so dumb and very bad. Poor kid just didn’t get it.

So I texted him and asked him if he would come over the next morning so that I could talk to him.

He came over bright and early. I proceeded to explain to him that I was sleeping when he initially grabbed my little fingers. (He wasn’t weirded out by this at all.)

Then I did it. I had the DTR (Define the relationship)

I said, “Carlton, you are a really great friend and I just want to keep it that way.”

He was so very confused. No matter what angle I came from in order to try not to out right say, “Carlton, you are creeping me out, I don’t want you to touch me and I am not going t date you!”, he just didn’t get it.

He kept saying, “I am a little confused. I feel like you are skating around the issue here.”

Really now?? How dense can you get?

So I stopped and took some deep breaths. “Carlton. We are just friends and that is all we are ever going to be.”

He said ok and then had to leave for work. I felt like he FINALLY got it. That’s what I felt.

Oh boy was I wrong….

To be continued…

Rules

By a Wendy for a Wendy

When you are face to face with a lost boy:

1. Get out… don’t even get involved… but if you don’t- adhere to the following:
2. He has one hour to make an impression… after that you can get out
3. You never have to say yes, especially if you know he’s a lost boy
4. Always be in control of the situation- you are a woman and have the power
5. Know the limit/ line that will not be crossed and stick to it
6. Look moderately hot for the first date. You can tone it up or down depending on the first impression
7. Have a first date curfew- midnight is appropriate… earlier is better
8. Do not laugh and be charming if he isn’t funny or charming
9. Limit the super personal information- talk about broad topics
   
10. Maintain a neutral body language – don’t flirt unless he’s great
11. Try not to be alone
12. Always bring cash and a cell phone
13. Have an escape plan set up. Know where all your exits are and have that “emergency call” on standby
14. Don’t answer calls or texts after midnight- they are always booty calls
15. If you are nervous at all that he’s strange- Meet at the place—then he doesn’t know where you live and you have a car.
16. NEVER fall asleep in his presence. Trust me... the results are disturbing.
    
17. Remember- a hundred lost boys will never equal 1 great man. Drop them all if they can't find themselves when you show up

Marching Band Competition

Marching Band Competition

So this one time….

When I had first moved to Provo, I met this boy- Carlton Archibald Toupee (CAT). The name has been changed… However his real name is worse!! Carlton Archibald Toupee called me one day and asked if I was available. I didn’t have any homework so I figured that I was.

He said he had a bunch of homework he needed to do. (OK-weird. Why ask me out if you have homework?)

I think that I actually asked him that.

He explained that he really just wanted to spend some time with me and asked if I would just come hang out with him for a bit.

I really wanted to get out of my apartment, so I accepted, thinking that the “hangout” would only be like an hour max.

A little side note. This was mid- October in Utah. Since I am from Arizona, I didn’t own a coat. I pulled on my light sweater and answered the door.

A light drizzling rain greeted me behind the tall string-bean of a 25 year old boy.

The rain did not faze me because he owned a car. We began walking away from my door. And then he turned. He turned towards the Provo River Trail that ran behind my building and just kept walking. I stopped and stared at the pitch black trail that he barreled toward.

This trail is historically not safe at night. A fear overcame me.

He finally realized that I was 30 feet behind him and turned to find me. He coaxed me over by saying we were just walking over to the football stadium and that he would protect me in the dark.

I commented slightly under my breath, “I have a better chance of protecting myself.”

The football stadium was about 2 miles away from my apartment. We walked and the rain picked up.

As we approached the stadium, I began to realize what was happening. Simultaneously, I was hearing 4 different bands practice their brassy tunes. There were hundreds of kids adorned in brightly colored marching band uniforms. Another few hundred kids running around thinking they are hip because they were at a college stadium.

I turned to Carlton Archibald Toupee and gave him a confused look and asked what we were doing exactly.

HE proceeded to explain that we were attending the annual regional high school marching band competition.

This was not my scene. In high school I avoided the band kids almost as if they had leprosy. You can’t blame me however, because the band kids were the ones doing the nasty in the hallways at school. I didn’t want their STDs to jump onto me!

He then explained that he hadn’t missed a year for 5 years in a row! He was SO EXCITED!!

We got in line for tickets and I felt the urge to run. This may have been because I was slowly entering in to a hypothermic state.

As we stood there in the rain, I ran my fingers through my hair to inspect the state that it was in.

Dear Carlton… that lost soul… then made fun of my hair. Yes. He said that I looked like a wet puppy.

My mouth dropped. How socially retarded CAN you get.

Every girl wants to be told they look like a wet dog- ESPECIALLY if she didn’t want to be standing in the frigid rain in the first place.

I fought back with some sort of sarcastic remark that he couldn’t read. So I gave up.

We made our way into the stadium and found our prime rib seating! Of course that kind of seating couldn’t come so easily. The bench was soaked. I stared at it for a moment trying to decide the best mode of action.

Do I take off my thin sweater and dry off the seat? Do I use my cold fingers to brush off as much water as I can? Or do I just sit in the puddle. I went with option number 2!! My poor little fingers paid the price for the rest of the night.

He made himself comfortable and whipped out his stats homework.

Oh yes. I am very serious about this people!

Meanwhile, I started to convulse from the cold.

I was very uninterested in the performances that were taking place in front of me and my fingers were turning blue. Every once in awhile CAT would try to start a small conversation. I tried very hard to contribute, but I couldn’t keep my jaw still enough to form words. I got scared I was going to crack a tooth.

He didn’t seem to notice the chattering, nor the blue color of my body.

I was desperate for heat!!

I sat as close to Him as possible and leaned in. I was thinking, “Carlton Archibald Toupee, this is your opportunity right now! Put your arm around me. For the love of all that is holy, please put an arm around me!”

Again, he didn’t notice. What a shame!

FINALLY the last band played and we began our exit! And we walked. And walked. And walked. Did I mention… IT WAS STILL RAINING.

At that point I was soaked through and through. The puddles and mud we trudged through to get back to my apartment only made the experience more exciting… like a safari. The kind of safari where you are avoiding being the prey and the prey is a rapist on the Provo River Trail.

This reminds me of a song…. “ How do you solve a problem like Carlton Archibald Toupee?” Because this was only the beginning of much bigger problems.

Lefave Card # 2

Imagine this little lovely-

There is a teddy bear in a dark corner. The top of the card reads

“Just when you think you’re alone…”

You open to read- “…Someone lets you know they’re thinking about you!”

And all the rest….

11/ 11/ 94

Hi!

Thought I would drop you a line- Saw this calendar and for some reason thought of you. (I really really really wish that this calendar was still in the package!)

Wasn’t for sure where you would be for thanksgiving or what you would be doing. But figured to send you this now before the rest of your fan mail started arriving.

My kids are going to Florida with their mother for 10 days over the holiday- I guess its tuna fish sandwiches again this year.

Enjoyed out conversation the last time we talked- Hope things are well for you- “Get some rest” & take care of yourself. Until next time- “May God Bless”.

Love,

Pat

P.S. For some reason your constantly on my mind….?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes as I read these words from Lefave, I feel as though he is writing to me. Poor, poor Carolyn. Pat is a super lost boy –creep. He has KIDS, and is fishing for an invite to Thanksgiving. I wonder if she succumbed to his manipulation? I also wonder why he always mentions her “fans”? Jealous and controlling? … I think YES!

Todd's First Date

One of the first moments I realized that I was a Wendy, was when I was 16. I had been 16 for about 6 months and was allowed to start dating. I had been going on occasional first dates with young boys who were all slowly turning 16. Todd. He had turned 16 a month after I had turned 16 and he had yet to ask a girl on a date. I had known Todd for a couple of years, along with our mutual group of guy friends.

One warm Sunday afternoon in Arizona, I noticed a commotion in my front yard. I went to our large front window and watched 2 of my best guy friends, drag poor Todd up my driveway. When they got to my porch, I opened the door and stepped out. Todd was bright red, sweating, and yelling, “Don’t! Stop! Leave me alone!”

I knew what this was all about. The other two boys yelled back, “ Todd, be a man and just do it!”

He was supposed to ask me on a date. His first date.

They threw him into my house and ran a few steps away. Todd was having a hard time breathing, so I ran to get him a glass of water to prevent him passing out in my doorway.

It took him about 2 and a half minutes to recover. I just stood there patiently waiting for him to get the guts to ask me his question. He sat down on the piano bench and started to speak, still gasping for air every few words. “Cara, (gasp) do you want (gasp) to go on a date (gasp, gasp) on Friday (big exhaustion of air)?”

I smiled my lovely smile and replied, “Todd, I would love to go on a date with you on Friday.”

He said, “Ok, cool. I’ll let you know the details later on in the week.”

I replied, “That sounds perfect.” Then I turned to the 3 boys and said, “You guys are lucky that I am me, and so cool; because this could be pretty offensive to any other girl. But don’t worry, I am not offended.”

All three boys thought about it for a second, and realized that it wasn’t very nice to force Todd up to my door.

Todd’s dad made him call and apologize a couple of days later for his behavior.

...This pattern continued for many, many years in my life. I became THE WENDY. The girl that went on the first date with each boy. I was the practice girl, whom you could be comfortable and simply “get the first date over with”.

This state I was stuck in, didn’t start to bother me until college, when I was the first date of a 22 year old. I mean really?

LeFave

When you live in an old house, sometimes you get to discover treasures. The treasure I discovered was a package. This package contained 3 letters. They are addressed to a Miss Carolyn from a Mr. Pat LeFave.

From what I can infer, Miss Carolyn is a Wendy. She has attracted a lost boy. Or actually, more like a lost man. This is the first letter of the series:

Picture This....
A card.
A picture of the Western Hemisphere.
A word bubble that says :"You're here" in the area of Utah
Another word bubble that says: "I'm here", pointing to New York.

Something kinda like that^

You open this card....

11/3/04

Hi!
Thought I would write and give your mind a break from Academia. Last time we talked it reminded me of the frat house I stayed as, 10 people answer the phone and no one takes a message- Signs "Girl in Bathroom", too much partying. Thinking your rich with $20.00 in your pocket- Striving with EGO's everyday. Thought about you since I've met you - seems these past 3 weeks my life has slowed down for some reason, and you have been on my mind often. I keep thinking back to the time we were sitting together during that testimony meeting - you said to stop that young girl because you wanted to speak to her. There was a tone in your voice that seemed to go right through me- I'd never experienced it before, and still can't put my finger on it. Hope you're enjoying life and that your struggles aren't too hard. (this is when the letter extended to the back of the card.) But if they (are/do)(the studies) remember the men are doing the hard stuff! Just kidding, I'll be your fan! Anyway I'm hoping to see you again soon- New Years- Love Pat Will call again - If you Don't rush me off the phone like the last two times.


````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

To me... this character screams lost boy. "If you don't rush me off the phone like the last two times," He is dripping with passive aggression.

Oh and don't worry... this story gets better.
ps.. This is not my spelling. I just transferred the letter exactly as written.
xoxox
Cara

Enjoy The Show

So today this is my song. Sometimes you feel like your life is captured in a song. At least for the moment.... Enjoy the show... That's one of my goals for this year. I'm working on it and getting better! xoxox

So This One Time...

Some of this blog is going to become part of a book. The Wendy Diaries are going to be very popular. Here is another old story.

SO THIS ONE TIME….

I was in a play and I was partnered with a boy just younger than me. This poor boy was so very unfortunate. Home-schooled. Sweaty. Doorbell ditching obesity’s doorstep. The most awkward human I have ever met. I was playing a prostitute in the show, and he was told to be a flirty gold miner in the bar. His idea of flirting: getting way to close to my face with his unbrushed breath and then wiggling his sweaty, dirty, fingers under my chin, squealing, “flirty, flirty, flirty!” I asked him to please stop doing that.

One time while we were waiting to run on stage for our scene, he decided to act out the love song scene currently happening on stage. He sang the loving words and proceeded to get closer and closer to my body and my face. I had a very confused look pasted on and sat frozen in my confused state. At the same moment the couple on stage dove into a passionate kiss, he pounced toward my mouth. In record time, I regained my composure and ducked for cover. We then ran on stage.

Days later, my mother got a call from this young man. He asked her if I was available the next weekend. She told him I was and ended the conversation.

Later that day she asked me if I was free the next week. I knew there was something fishy. I coaxed the information out of her that homeschooled kid had called. I was furious. I begged her to call him back and tell him that I wasn’t available. She said, “Cara that is so rude, give him just one chance. Be nice.” The reality was that I actually was not free that weekend. My best friend was in town and it was our mutual good friend’s birthday that night. I explained this to her in a panic. I also explained to her that, technically I wasn’t allowed to go on single dates at the time. I also explained that I was scared of the kid.

I finally convinced her to call. But she was bamboozled. She explained that out family rule was that I could not single date until I was 18. She asked him if he could please get a friend to come along. His reply: “I don’t have any friends.”

She broke down with remorse for the unfortunate child. She told him to go on ahead and ask me!

I cried.

A few days later, my mother told me to go clean my room for a while. I went. Five minutes later, my little sister burst into my room and teased me to go out in the front yard. I wouldn’t go. 20 minutes later my mom came and yelled at me and told me I was being rude.

So I stomped my way outside and found my front yard covered with lunch bags filled with sand and candles. There was some clever poem asking me to accompany him to the Riparian Preserve the next week for a luminary festival.

Something like this...>

I was so embarrassed at the level of intensity this date was having. Then I realized. I was going to be his first date ever. Oh joy.

I sent him an email with some kind of rhyme that said I would go. Only after another battle with my mother about me being nice and giving everyone a chance.

Surprise, surprise. The night of the date, my parents decided to go out of town. I was left alone with no one to threaten the kid to have me home on time or to treat me with respect.

So I called my best friend. He showed up at my door with our mutual friend; they both wore huge dark trench coats and reflective aviator sunglasses.

They answered the door when homeschooled kid showed up. They interviewed him with some of the funniest questions I have ever heard: How do you feel about the war in Iraq? How long have you had your driver’s license? Have you ever kissed a girl? What time do you plan on having Cara home this evening?

I hid in my room and laughed until I cried a little bit. At the end of the interview, I emerged. I wore my mother’s long coat with deep pockets. I wanted to be prepared for a sneaky hand attack.

We drove in his very small truck to the Riparian Preserve about 15 minutes away from my house.

We walked around in the night following the luminary lit pathways. I kept my hands safely tucked away in the deep pockets of my mother’s coat.

I talked incessantly in order to avoid awkward silence and even more awkward conversation from his mouth.

Once we had walked over every inch of that place, he walked me back to his truck. He drove to his neighborhood and we again walked. This time it was through the Christmas lights of the courtyard of his country club. I ran out of things to talk about. Therefore, he had room to talk. What did he choose…. The war in Iraq. We had conflicting opinions, but I was not about to have that discussion with him. We jumped into his truck and sat for a minute in quiet.

“So are we just watching other people drive in the parking lot?” I asked.

He then threw out his own conversation. “So are you anything like your character?”

“Umm, are you asking me if I am a prostitute?”

“Well I, I , I,”

“Seriously? No. It is definitely just a character. Not a part of me at all. No. I am not a whore.”

“Oh, I just… I mean…”

“Yeah… right…. I think we should go.”

He started the truck. We drove back to my neighborhood. It was my friend’s birthday, so we went to the party because I had previously mentioned it trying to get out of the date, but he just invited himself.

Through this party, he proceeded to “flirt” with my best friend, and definitely got her number. Of course I supported this action in order to sway his creepy attention away from me.

Poor, poor lost boy. I am not your Wendy.

This Wendy is exhausted!!!
UPDATE

So this summer I kept myself very busy by participating in Annie Get Your Gun. It started out as a very awful experience. I even tried to quit, but the production crew wouldn't let me.

It got better though....

I became better acquainted with a few loves of my life.

Mark is such a lovely human!! I adore him to death. He keeps me vain and encourages me all the time.
Love him!!




This is Emily. She is the most lovely lady I have ever met. She and Mark are now dating.... and might I just say... the perfect match.

I love her, I love him. = magic


I also went to school ALL SUMMER!! It was long and.... long.

Now I am way burnt out starting this semester out.
I don't know what it is about this semester, but it drains me completely by the end of the day. When it is over I am going to have a super big celebration. Not even kidding.

The best part of coming back to school is that Marina and I are now together. I had to say goodbye to my lovely Meringue House, but this Sugar Shack is growing on me. AND Marina is with me. It has been so great for the both of us I think. We need each other. At least for now.



We have had more fun in these last few weeks than we have had in years. Best Friends Forever!!!
For some reason this girl and I are perfect for one another. The day we find boys that make us laugh more than we make each other laugh.... that will be the day of true love.


Now I'm back to my life of stress and nausea. I love that. New meds= joy. Or not
But on the bright side.... my insides should be healthier. :)


Life is good. Even though it makes me tired.

So happy right now!!


xoxox
Cara