Say "Thank You."

Coming up on under a month to go until Valentine's Day (ick, ugh, roar,) I've (and I'm sure, the rest of the world has, too,) been spending a lot of time lately trying to come up with ideas for small things to do for the guy I'm seeing on or around that date. While we haven't been together long enough to do anything quite as grand and stunning as the couple's massage/day at the exclusive gym/dinner at the gourmet restaurant that one of my friends is planning for her live-in boyfriend of over a year thanks to a hotel's stellar Valentine's Day discount incentives, seeing as my guy spoils me rotten, I want to do a little something for him, too. The problem is, I've NEVER been with a guy for Valentine's Day, and I'm a little freaked out at the thought that I may be, this year, and I want to blow it out of the water right, the first time. (I'm not a highly-motivated obsessive-compulsive perfectionist or anything.) Pressure, pressure, pressure.

I'm big on spoiling my guys, be it either on Valentine's Day, or any other day of the week that ends in "-day." It can be little things-- picking up his favorite magazine while you're already out grocery shopping and see it while you're standing in line and waiting for the slow check out girl to hurry up with her bagging, already, or giving a $10 gift card to someone's favorite store to go towards their next inevitable purchase-- that show that you're invested in making someone happy. I knew the guy I'm seeing was a winner when he went out to grab food one night for dinner and came back with bad news...as well as something else. "I got a call, and I have to leave, but I brought you back dinner...and breakfast for tomorrow morning," he told me. As we all know, I've been going through a financial roller coaster, and knowing that he wanted to provide for me, even if he couldn't be there, was exceptionally touching. His stock went up.

That's exactly what it is-- it's the little things that tell someone you're a keeper--buying him a drink, giving him a spur-of-the-moment back massage, letting him sleep in. Because if you'll do those things for him on your own accord, it gets him thinking about what you'd do for him if/when you REALLY love him. Not every woman gives her guy her Netflix account password and sets him up with unlimited instant entertainment. But nearly every woman will give a blowjob. The latter is nearly expected. The former is not expected, greatly appreciated, and fucking free, with a great emotional pay-off.

Some other instant brownie point winners to set you apart from the rest of the female crowd:

- If he's light on boxers (or briefs, or those heaven-sent and god-created boxer-briefs,) or socks, pick him up a few cheap but fun pairs. Chances are, his mom, exes, or best girl friend are the ones who usually bought them for him, and the hole his big toe is sticking out of isn't paramount in his mind on the list of Things To Do or Get. Spoil his inner child just a little bit more by getting a few new pairs and taking that item off his plate of things to stress out about when he opens an empty drawer and suddenly remembers what he's been forgetting to buy.

- Food really is one of the best ways into a man's heart. A simple home-cooked meal is a favorite among guys, especially when you're in the comfortable and slightly broke section of dating. If you let him help you prepare it-- chopping the vegetables, stirring the pot, mixing the salad dressing-- he'll feel even better about the meal he helped create, AND may learn some hands-on cooking skills for the next time he's solo in the kitchen. If you feed a man, he'll be satiated for one meal. If you teach him how to cook, he'll be mostly satiated most of the time you're not around to cook with or for him.

- If he's a frequent overnight guest, like my boy is, make sure than you have sufficient amenities for him in the morning. A (new!) extra toothbrush, some manly soap, and a towel he knows is "his" to use will go a long way toward making his mornings (and nights!) more comfortable. Plus, you don't have to kiss morning breath, so really, it's win/win. Also, if he's approaching other roommate status, and it looks like neither of you are going anywhere else fast, carving out a drawer or a shelf in your closet for him to have a change of clothes or at least a place to leave a spare shirt and pair of boxers and socks would be a nice gesture.

- Keep a few of his favorite snacks around. If he's partial to orange juice, keep some in your fridge. If he goes crazy over movie theater-style popcorn, get a few packs so that next time the two of you are staying in to watch a movie, he's got something to munch happily on other than your crunchy, fruity granola.

- And possibly the easiest, more meaningful tip of all: Every time you see him, pay him one compliment to let him know how much he means to you. It can be something like "I think you're such a babe, you know that?" or "You're honestly one of the most interesting people I've ever met," or a simple "Thank you for doing everything it is you do for me; I really appreciate it." This is what will keep him from straying when a random chick at a bar tells him he's hot; this is what he'll remember you love about him next time he's feeling down; this is what will make him want to be all those things you compliment him about, for YOU. A guy who knows how you feel about him is a guy who is content, satisfied, and clear on what he's expected of.

Recently, I did what I preached and took him out to lunch, on me. I know that the standard and traditional scheme looks like the guy paying for everything, but I was amazed how relaxed and right it felt to pick up the tab when it hit the restaurant table. Best yet was when he reached across the table...for my hand, not the check. He picked it up, pressed it between his, kissed it, and looked me straight in the eyes and said "thank you." Everyone, take note--- this is not only a great way to show heartfelt appreciation if you need to cop this move for your own, but it also got my heartstrings strumming a little. It struck me this morning as I curled around the warmth of his back and breathed in that I am so lucky. So, so lucky. Which is exactly why I just spent the last 3 hours researching the perfect men's facial lotion for the boy with the impeccable facial hair and beard who always complains about dryness and itchiness for Valentine's Day. It must be extreme fondness, or another emotion like it.

XOXO

P.S-- While these are all idea slanted towards your significant other, boyfriend, or the significant man in your life, please note that with a little tweaking, similar things can be used to show appreciation for the important friends in your life, and they'd be just as welcome. I'm sure your roommate would be surprised and touched if you brought her home the latest issue of Cosmopolitan randomly, or your always-there-to-pull-you-back-together work buddy would appreciate if you took them out for Happy Hour drinks after a particularly trying day at the office. Remember, while your romantic relationships may be the ones you focus on because they're getting you laid and potentially setting you up for the rest of your life, you'd be nowhere without your friends and family, who are always the ones who help take care of you when the romances fail or falter. Show love to all.

Can I See Some Classification?

Lately, my most over-used phrase has been "He's not my boyfriend." As the boy himself pointed out the other night, he gets why when he kisses me in public, people assume I'm his girlfriend, and sometimes it's easier to just not correct them, and I hear that and am all over with agreeing with it-- I let it slide too, when it's not really important. But still, if I have to tell my mother one more time that he is not my boyfriend, and that she needs to stop telling people that I have a boyfriend in favor of telling them that I'm casually seeing someone, there's gonna be a matricide charge. So, A.) because my mother reads my blog, and B.) because I feel like a primer isn't a bad thing if you're wondering what the hell I'm talking about when I say I'm "seeing someone", here's a written guide on the classifications of relationships:

If you think someone is the bee's knees and they might not even know you exist, you're crushing on someone. Conversely, they might know they exist. They might like you, too. But other than talking and hanging out, if no one's made the first move, you're still just crushing on someone.

If you're being blatantly obvious that you're crushing on someone, and they're talking about other girls or other guys and are asking you for advice or help with landing the opposite (or same,) sex, or call you "bro, man, homie," or any other generic, genderless term of affection, you're just friends. You are in the friend-zone. Even if they were stupifyingly drunk, you're probably not getting any. Also, you could just be friends if they're someone that you've never had a single sexual thought about, and the same is true for them about you. Caveat: If you're NOT being blatantly obvious that you're crushing on them, now might be a time to start, because if they DO also like you and you say nothing, you will still get stuck in the friend-zone. Not, as I hope you want to be, in at least the next classification, where sex is involved.

If you're having sex and he's never hinted at or tried moving things out of the bedroom or car or motel room (other than to change location for sex), you're hooking up. Also classified as fucking, or being fuck buddies.

If he takes you out more than twice and drops cash on you, no matter how much or how little it is, and keeps making noise about wanting to keep taking you out and/or treating you-- you're dating. And he's a keeper.

If you're spending time together, going out, sleeping together (both sexually and physically in the same bed), in each other's top 5 contacts lists, and have met the important people in each other's lives-- roommates, friends, parents, etc.-- you're seeing each other. Now, there are two classifications to seeing each other: casually, and exclusively. "Casually" implies that there's been no exclusivity talk or commitment; that if you don't see him a certain number of times in a week, it's cool, and that both of you respect each other's social lives without needing to be in it 24/7. "Exclusively" just means that you had that chat where you said that you only want to be with the other, and you now have an excuse to castrate him with the closest dull yet pointy object if you catch him with another woman after that conversation.

Another word that you can use in place of "seeing each other" is that you're together. He knows that you're together. You know that you're together. Both your friends know that you're together. The people that see you out and about know that you're together. But just like the difference between "casually" and "exclusively" seeing each other, that girl who he's chatting up at work when you're not there might not know that you and he are together. So get it confirmed in conversation if it's going to bug you. Or if it's been a few months that you've been "together." Then, it's just time to shit or get off the pot. While relationships aren't about sprinting through the classifications or steps, they generally do need to progress, though it takes time to get to know someone, and if you'd like to go to the next level with them. Exclusivity is always the next step in the relationship at this point-- it just takes some people longer to work around to it than others. And if he won't give you his exclusivity, or if you're unwilling to stop trying to get with other people, then it's time to end it...

...AKA: break up. You can use the term "break up" to describe what happened with anyone at any point after hooking up-- it's just easier and clearer what you mean that way, rather than saying "we're no longer communicating," which means you could still be fucking, just not talking. (Hey...it happens.) Even if you were just sleeping together, if you're not anymore, if you had a nasty conversation about why you won't be anymore, you broke up.

NO ONE is anyone's boyfriend or girlfriend until the question is raised and the ok is given to refer to them as such. This would mean that you need to either say, "Hey, would it be ok if I called you my boyfriend?" or he says "I'd like you to be my girlfriend." Even if y'all have been dating and sleeping together for two or more months, if you haven't talked about it outright, he ain't yo boyfran, as my friend Caiti would say. In which case, if he does something above and beyond what he needs to do in your current status, you can tell him he's the best "not-boyfriend" ever. Or if you do something above the call of duty for him or his friends, you're allowed to comment on the fact with your friends that it officially made you the best not-girlfriend ever. The "not" is the most important part of this phrase. It shows that you're aware of the fact you don't have this label, yet are perfectly capable of and willing to do the things that would come with it. Strangely, I prefer the title "not-girlfriend" to that of "girlfriend." I think it's because it means I care about someone enough that I'm willing to do what I don't really have to, just because I want to do it. Caveat: Sometimes it's easier not to fight society's previously conceived conventions and try to explain that someone is not your boyfriend. In these cases, either grin and bear it, as we talked about earlier, or correct them if it really irks you that much, or you feel that you need to our should. If you're stuck for a term to correct them with, "significant other" covers it well as a blanket term. A "significant other" is someone who is the most significant other person in your life that you're in a relationship with-- be it a not-boyfriend or not-girlfriend, or a not-quite-yet-fiancée, or your baby-daddy who isn't thinking about making an honest woman out of you yet, but is in your life and supportive.

If you've moved on to seeing each other exclusively, and have had the labels conversation, you're in a serious, committed relationship. You might now be going on vacations together, be invited to each other's family events, thinking of signing a lease together, or he may have started casually browsing the front window displays of jewelry stores. (Note-- this classification is highly age and maturity regulated.)

If you signed a piece of paper together, exchanged rings, and remember saying "I do," I hate to break it to you, but you're married. That is the only time it is appropriate for anyone to call your girl "the wifey."

And now for the toughest term-- a relationship. A "relationship" can be taken a few different ways. You have a relationship with your parents. You have a relationship with your friends. You have a relationship (and probably, some sort of understanding,) with your landlord. And you certainly have a relationship with the person of the opposite or same sex in your life, regardless of the fact if you're just fuck buddies or if you're in a serious, committed relationship. One of my exes explained it this way, and tricked me into a relationship with him in doing so, which was probably the most clever act a man has ever pulled on me as well as the only way a guy could wrangle me into something: "Technically, we've already had relations (read: sex), so whether you like it or not, we're now in a relationship." It's true-- sex changes things between two people. So does him taking you out, even if you haven't slept with each other yet. And if he's spending nights with you, that's another step up the relationship pyramid right there-- not only are you together, but you also have a different relationship as bed partners. (He steals the sheets, you kick, and you're both learning how to deal with the other one while asleep.) So, if you have a different relationship with him that exceeds your friendship, no matter what it is, from sleeping together to being engaged, you're in a relationship with that person. Again, it can be serious or not serious, but dynamics between the two of you have changed.

So...readers...Mom...next time someone asks you what's going on with you and that dude that they're always seeing you with, or if your nosy neighbor who fancies herself a new-age matchmaker asks you if you're in a relationship, you can tell them, "Yes. I'm casually seeing someone, and I really like him." Case closed.

XOXO

Playa Hater

In many aspects, I'm not your typical girl. I don't know many Lady Gaga songs, I'm really not into jeggings, and I'd rather watch a football game than Glee and go to a dive bar than a nail salon. I've never had a manicure (waste of money when you use your hands as much as I do), and I didn't have senior portraits taken, or professional prom photos done. So it really shouldn't be any surprise that there wasn't any photographic evidence of me with any of the guys I've dated or been in relationships with.

I mean, yes-- there is a horrible held-at-arm's-length cell phone quality snapshot of me and a guy I was with freshmen year, and there's a photo of my on-again, off-again guy and I in a group of our friends, but that's it. No official "hello world, we're a couple, and can't you tell?" photos. I was thinking about this fact today while watching SATC reruns and thinking about how anti-girl that fact is. Also, about how slightly sad it is that I'll have no photographic reminders of how I felt together while I was with a guy.

Until now. Low and behold, not 30 minutes later, an image taken of the boy and I on his birthday surfaced on Facebook from his friend's cell phone. I knew that his friend had been taking photos of the shitshow taking place, and was expecting some hilarious Leaning Pile of Drunken Man photos, or possibly, ones of me standing in front of him with his chin in my hand, trying to get him to focus on me long enough to find out if he needed more water. Instead, what popped up was a photo of the two of us casually sitting on the end of the couch closely together, my arm around his neck, hand resting on his collarbone, his arm around my waist and hand on my hip, both our eyes focused down at some point on the floor in front of us as we talked about something. Or he slurred and I listened intently.

It's a great photo. I wasn't expecting it, especially from a friend of his. Totally candid, yet entirely truthful. I am now a believer in those body language experts who say they can tell if two people are sleeping together just by reading their body language as they interact. If a picture is worth a thousand words, than that photo only needed three: "So into him." I wondered, when I saw it, what the shelf life of it would be on the page of someone who is enjoying a Time Without Labels, and says that one of his favorite things about me is the fact that I don't ask about his business, yet has his own toothbrush on my sink and spent 3 of the last 7 nights at my place. As I expected, it lived live for about three hours, and then disappeared.

I'm not surprised because I know the situation. I know how refreshing it is to get out of long relationships and be single again, even if you're currently casually seeing someone that you really like. There's no rush to jump into anything, and the concept of not having to be committed to anything is intoxicating. I know that he's the sort of guy who wants to appear single on his page, even if he's into displays of affection in public, just like I'm the sort of girl whose Facebook relationship status is "In An Open Relationship" because that's how I consider myself-- in an open relationship with THE WORLD. I'm not into relationship statuses, or broadcasting it every time I start crushing on or seeing a new person. And while I'm not looking for any sort of label from him, and while I knew from the instant I saw it that that photo's shelf-life had a short expiration date, I have to admit, it did get me a little down to not see it there anymore. If you can show me off around town and to your friends, why don't you want to show me off in other aspects of your life, too? Because I honestly feel like I'm worth it.

Part of me, a very small part of me, took tiny offense to it, with a grain of salt. From the get-go when I saw it, I knew it would probably be removed because it would hurt his "playa image"-- the thought that he can flirt with whomever he likes online or in the real world because they don't know he's seeing anyone else. For three hours, that image was killed by any other girls who happened to see it, and the photo probably wasn't as well-received by him as it was by me because of that fact. In reality, he knows the difference between flirting with someone and trying to get with someone, and is very straight about it-- I have no worries that he's actively trying to get with anyone else. And hell, I'm a huge fucking flirt, so if he wants to get his harmless flirt on, he can get his harmless flirt on. But it got me thinking and couldn't help but make me wonder: Why do men always feel the need to be lining up the field? It's not just him-- it's the guy my friend is trying to see who has a ton of his "bitties", and what my ex who always had another girl on the side, just in case, did. It's what this guy explains in his "bottom bitch theory" video. This is dating, and as much as it seems like a game of chess or a full-body contact sport like rugby (but with kissing), IT AIN'T. I am not lining up my next starting line while I'm with a guy. As unnerving as it is, I play it play-by-play and day-to-day, and if it ends tomorrow, then it's gonna be awhile before I find another starting player to draft. Girls (sometimes, more than guys,) deal with periods of singledom and sometimes celibacy because of this-- when a girl is really with you, we're WITH you, ride-or-die style. And if a guy's not thinking the same way, than it's like you're dating on top of a trapeze of your feelings with no safety net underneath if he decides to drop you for the next Maria Sharapova or Mia Hamm or Serena Williams.

But it's easy-- in today's world, the internet and our presence online is what dictates how people who don't see us every day or regularly view us. And if he's flirting with other girls online, it just wouldn't do to have a couple-y photo at the top of his page. I get it, though I'm not entirely down with it. I run into the same issue every time one of my close guy friends posts something that could be considered especially intimate or overly interested-- I worry how other people will read into it. Granted, at this point, I'm pretty sure the guy I'm seeing knows they're my friends and he's the only one I'm currently seeing and/or sleeping with, but then again, whenever he leaves me a comment, then I'm always stuck wondering what my ex thinks of it. It's a no-win situation out there in cyber space.

XOXO

S.O.S-- Save Our (Relation)Shipping: Care Packages From The Killer-Cool Not-Girlfriend.

So, another dilemma calls for another mass poll. I'm sending Perfect a care package at college. That much has already been decided. Mainly because I texted him this afternoon for his mailing address. Some flirting and trying to weasel out of my what I was sending him later, I got his address. He didn't get any hints as to what I'm sending other than me saying "it's totally you and I don't think you could/should live without it."

At the beginning, the care package consisted of the book that sprouted this whole idea, The Worst-Case Scenario Survival Handbook, and a card. It's true-- the WCSSH lived on my bookshelf for awhile, and has been lent to a couple exes and boys in the past, but when I looked at it with fresh eyes a week ago, I was like, "Damn, that is so perfectly Perfect. How to land a plane? How to fend off a shark? How to deliver a baby in a taxicab? How to jump off a bridge into water? Hey, wait-- this may keep him alive longer and safer when jumping off concrete barriers at the Mills!" I am all for keeping him alive longer.

So we started with the book and a card. As of 3 PM this afternoon while I was texting him for his address, that was what the care package consisted of. But give me time to think, money in my bank account, and the challenge of being the world's best Not-Girlfriend, and I get dangerous.

"I need another little something," I thought. So while card-shopping at Borders (we'll get to the card itself later), I picked up a few Vermont postcards thinking of scrawling a "Greetings from Home!" on the back of one if I could find one of Montpelier.

I one-upped myself.

Almost right after I finished that thought, I picked up one of a beautiful rural town in winter and flipped it over to read the location. Worcester. I can take a sign.

So we have the book, the (soon-to-be-infamous) card, and the postcard of Worcester/home. But no-- this wasn't cutting it. I needed something fun. I needed something that Spencer's Gifts didn't sell because I wanted something neither beer- nor sex-themed because I don't want him A.) drinking his way into another girl's vagina with the help of my loving gift, or B.) in another girl's vagina with the help of my loving gift. Melissa suggested a mini First Aid kit to go with the WCSSH. Perfect. Helpful, and themed. I loved it. To EMS we went.

But as we're standing in EMS debating over small First Aid kits, I get struck with a thought. I don't want to be considered the (gasp!) Mommy Girl. I don't want to be thought of as the girl who's constantly telling him to be careful and watch out and oh go, don't do that! I want to be the fun girl who sends great care packages. I want to be the best Not-Girlfriend there ever was. I needed...something fun. And a mini battery-operated light-flashing frisbee was fun. There was only a moment of worry about the fact that while I can palm it comfortable, Perfect's hands will eat it up-- what the hell? It's a mini light-up frisbee! It's great! It's...dare I say? PERFECT.

At the register, after forking over my debit card for the umpteenth time that day, the guy behind the counter looks at me. "Hey. How are you?"

I huff a sigh. "I'm good."

"That doesn't sound good."

"Well, I'm just trying to put together a care package for my guy and spending more time and thought and money on it than I thought I would be originally. But I guess it's a good day if you're having a hissy-fit over being generous."

And then this total stranger said something while ringing me out that made my ears ring. "Hopefully he's not out drunk and hooking up with another girl."

Ummm, EXCUSE ME? I worry enough about this on my own time. Aren't you paid to make your customers feel GOOD?! Thankfully, after seeing my glazed and then bitchy expression (the bitchy more at the thought of what if Perfect is out getting some other girl off rightthissecond), Register Dude calmed his shit down and assured me I was putting together a kick-ass care package a guy would love. Thanks.

So...we have the WCSSH. The Worcester postcard. The mini First Aid kit, which will totally be used, with Band-Aids and athletic tape and aspirin and alcohol wipes...yeah, I feel good about that one...and the mini light-up frisbee, which is a great homework breaker and roommate bonder. (Melissa, my roommate of the past 3 years, bonded over a light-up rubber ball our freshmen year. Anything light-up and toy-themed is apparently the key to roomie love in college.) And then...there's the card.

Oh, the card. I have to say, I'm not really posting this to sway my mind about sending it. I'm posting this to see the responses I get A.) about the care package items and if you think Perfect will like/enjoy/use them/love me a little more for sending them, B.) to see how many of you think I'm totally off my rocker for sending this boy a care package, even though I send EVERYONE car packages, (They're kind of my deal. I make bitchin' things to send to people. Although it's usually to my girl friends and that's why I'm freaking out so much about this particular very "boy" care package,) and C.) to prepare for what Perfect may think about the card. Regardless, that card, and it's message, are going into the care package box tomorrow. Perfect knows my humor. I know what he takes seriously and what he doesn't. If I can get away with telling him one of my other lovers took the sexy pics of me, I can get the point of this card across in the way it's supposed to be-- funny college sexy humor-- and not the way I wouldn't want it to be taken-- I want him to follow the directions on it because I'M SO IN LOVE WITH HIM.

I'm not. To clear up any questions. I adore him with all my heart, and I do love him, but I'm not IN love with him. I still haven't had enough time or time with him to see if he's someone I could be in love with. My gut tells me that yes, given time and the chance, I could, but my mind is telling me I've had neither time nor the chance.

...Although it was pointed out that we have now known each other for 5 months and been more or less together for all of it. (I'm going for the "less." True, for the first month we were solidly together, but June and July were iffy and weirdly polite and formal and non-thrilling. August and September are shaping up well though as to the Return of the "Us.")

So. The card. It reads on the front: "How to please a woman? Love her, die for her, take her to dinner, miss the football for her, buy her jewelery, be interested in what she has to say... How to please a man? Show up naked; bring beer."

The inside is blank. In it, I plan to write, "Sorry-- couldn't ship any beer."

See? Funny. Light. College. Not crazy wannabe housewife and babymama. No pointed hints that I want him to skip the football or buy me jewelry. In fact, I would yell at him if he turned the football off, and my father the goldsmith and jeweler is the only man I accept jewelry from, thanks. I also plan on writing some other little stuff about the contents, like "Have fun, and the First Aid kit is for when you need to stick yourself back together after jumping off those buildings and wrestling those alligators," (referencing inside the WCSSH). Keep it light. Keep the front of the card and him thinking about me, naked, with beer, and the inside calm, cool, collected, sweet, and funny. The best Not-Girlfriend there ever was, in other words. The kind of thing that will make him want to take this Not-Girlfriend and tear the "Not" right off of the beginning.

So, loyal readers, what do you think? Is this a winning care package? Will my dyslexic Prince Charming be so taken with the survival guide's quirky subject matter that he'll maybe read some parts of it and keep himself alive a bit longer and not succumb to a random drive-by shooting or shark attack in quintessential, land-locked New England-town Fitchburg, Mass? Does this score me major boy brownie points, and, as I screamed in the parking lot outside of EMS to Melissa, not realizing that there were families waiting to get into the Italian restaurant next door, does this at least deserve getting fucking laid next time I see him? (The amount I have spent will remain a secret known only to me, but in any case, the sex would be worth it. I don't expect a care package of my own back, unless you're counting the package inside his jeans, and then, YES PLEASE.) And, how do you think the card will go over? Hmmm? Hmmm???

Tell me. I'm all ears.

...And eyes and lips and arms and legs and boobs. Of course. Sillies.

XOXO