Weekends with TTP

You might remember that, back in August, I flew off the radar when I started dating this guy, this wonderful guy: The Traveling Progressive.

Then in January or February, I posted that TTP was moving. Not far–only about three hours away–but that’s about 200 miles and one time change. Ugh.

Now it is April, and somehow I realize that we’ve already successfully made it two full months of long-distance relationship.

It is wonderful; it is terrible. It is heartbreaking, and it warms every inch of me.

Lucky in Love

Some days, it just hits me how lucky I am.

A year ago, I was finally recovering from one of the worst relationships of my life. Now, I’m in one of the best relationships I’ve ever had.

But tonight, I am marathoning Catfish and if there is anything that can make a woman feel lucky in love, it’s watching this show. Especially after having tried the “online dating” thing and having one pretty miserable experience.

I think some of these situations are just absolutely crazy. I was totally shocked to see in one episode that Marcus is a real person. He’s really who he says he is!

But then he said something along the lines of “you can’t commit to just one kind of pizza.”

Ooookay?

And I feel like Daisy and Marcus had one of the better experiences. This is one of only a couple of times that I can remember the mystery person being who they said they were. Most of the time, it’s someone enacting a fantasy to, at best, deal with negatives of their own lives, or, at worst, to intentionally manipulate and take advantage of someone else they’ve met on the internet.

I am one of the lucky ones, I think while watching. Not necessarily for avoiding a catfish scenario, but because I am in love.

Real, true, genuine love.

And that is such a good feeling. Even in the sucky moments. Even when I’m upset the TTP is so far away. Even when I feel sad, lonely, and discouraged: I. Am. So. In. Love.

And that makes me one lucky lady.

The One With All The Tears

I have been relatively off the radar lately, friends. I posted forever ago, it seems like, about my awesome new relationship! And how this blog would be going in a new direction.

Apparently that direction was nowhere.

I really hope to start blogging more soon, I do. And today is the start of that.

TTP is moving.

TTP is away for the weekend.

For a reference point, TTP and I have spent exactly one night apart since we started dating. In August.

This weekend serves as kind of a trial run for his move (which will be in the next couple of weeks), and it is NOT looking good, folks. This morning I cried while I poured out the rest of his pot of coffee after he left for the airport.

It’s just like this, except “Gary” is “TTP”

Because that is a totally normal reaction.

But it’s always the littlest things, isn’t it? Right now I’m watching reruns of Friends (and no, not on Netflix, because I’m too lazy to get up and switch to the bluray player that runs Netflix). The way Ross just hugged Rachel, holding is hand against her head, totally reminds me of the ways that TTP snuggles me into him, holding me close to his chest.

It just doesn’t feel right that I’m going to go to bed tonight without feeling that embrace, the warmth. That love.

Surely I’m not the only one that can *feel* this?

Deep down, I know that I’m being just a little ridiculous. That I’m just being a bit emotional. I am capable of totally rationalizing that he’s (a) not moving that far away, (b) we’ll be able to see each other regularly, even if that isn’t every week, and (c) I am totally capable of functioning on my own.

That rationalizing doesn’t necessarily make it any easier, though.

Can Romance Novels be Feminist?

I feel like I run into a snag every time I try working on romance writing: I end up really, really hating my characters. And I noticed this when I read romance, too, especially when it’s set in a contemporary time period.

Why?

They just all feel so anti-woman to me.

Perhaps this is projecting. Perhaps this is really my own issues with being viewed as an “object,” rather than any characters actually objectifying other characters. But can’t the male lead think about something other than how sexually stimulating the female lead is? Can’t he be turned on by something other than her “ample bosom” or “thick backside” or “juicy bits” or whatever ridiculous turn of phrase an author has decided to call the lady’s body parts?

In some ways, I get it. TTP and I have had this conversation recently, while doing the dishes. The target demographic for romance novels, historically, seems to be “housewives,” those domestic women who care for home and children if they have any, who are looking for some sort of escape from their every day. This, of course, is overly generalizing. For example, I am not at all a housewife, but I do enjoy a good romance novel from time to time (that is, when I’m not critiquing them, clearly). The romance novel cliche is that the woman needs a man to save her, and sometimes she helps out in that rescuing, but mostly it’s the guy that rushes in and changes her life, by making her more caring/compassionate/open to love or by literally saving her or protecting her from some malevolent force.

In short, most women don’t read romance novels to feel empowered.

But can that be changed?

My main concern, I think, is what does a feminist romance heroine look like? Can this character still fit some of the molds that I have encountered in my reading of romance novels? Am I missing out on a vital market? Is there some feminist romance novels out there that I am simply missing out on?

Bye, Bye, Dating Life. Hello, Relationship.

With things go so well with The Traveling Progressive, readers can look forward to different kinds of posts coming at them here.

But that brings me to a predicament: what do I do with the Tech Head?

Here’s the deal: I started talking to this guy a while ago, we text often, but he was out of town until recently. Now he’s back and wants to hang out, even though I haven’t responded to any of his texts for the past week. I don’t want to be a bitch and just ignore him because he seems like someone who would be a good friend, but I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings about the fact that I’m not looking for anything other than friends.

However, I also don’t want to send him a text that just assumes he’s only looking for someone to have a relationship with because that seems a little shitty. It reminds me of that text. . .

So I was thinking of something along the lines of: “Welcome back to [shitty town]! It would be great to hang out, but I feel like I should let you know that I’ve started seeing someone and am only interested in being friends.”

Does that sound shitty? Does that sound presumptuous? Does it sound like I’m keeping that door cracked open just-in-case?

That last one is definitely not how I want to sound. I’m almost obnoxiously serious about TTP. I still can’t seem to locate any flaws; last night I was in the crappiest mood, and he told me he would “just love on me” until I felt better; he makes fun of my weird quirks without being an ass. He likes to see me, and I like to see him, and even though it’s only been a couple of weeks, I don’t foresee any major shifts in feelings any time soon on either of our parts. I’m wild about him, and it’s not even that scary.

In other news, my friends keep telling me it needs to be “facebook official” but TTP and I decided to just not list any relationship status on there at all. I think it’s super cute that he removed his relationship status because of our conversation/the day after we had this conversation. In this convo, I told him that I didn’t have a relationship status because I have several friends that I didn’t necessarily want to know I was single, and I have several colleagues/former students as friends, and I don’t think my relationship status is any of there business. This convo ended with, “So, I basically just decided I wouldn’t have a relationship status unless I am in a relationship.”

His response? “The best way to beat the system is to not play by their rules.”

 

Me: This is wonderful, but it’s also bad. Very bad. And by bad, I mean that I’m going to crash and burn for him.

J: 

Me: If I haven’t started already.

J: I was gonna say.

Love Life Introspective: No, I am Not a Slut

So, I’ve been really quiet again lately. That’s because I keep starting posts and not finishing them. And I keep not finishing them because things are going really well, almost too well to be able to write about it in any meaningful way.

Most importantly, The Traveling Progressive and I have been seeing quite a lot of each other. He has made me a delicious dinner, taken me out for a fancy dinner, and put me completely out of my element by taking me out on an ATV.

And he told me stories of baby TTP crashing four-wheelers.

When I recently discussed this with my parents, the differences in their reactions were startling.

Me: TTP took me to the [little, fancy, expensive restaurant in town] last night.

Dad: Oh? How was it?

Me: It was really good. . .blah blah blah.

But later, my conversation with my mom was more like this:

Me: TTP took me to the [little, fancy, expensive restaurant in town] last night.

Mom: And is he expecting any reciprocity in return?

Me: [dumbfounded look as I try to decide if she is talking about my taking TTP out sometime]

Mom: Well, you know most guys expect something in return for taking you out to a nice dinner.

Me: Or. . . not. Because that hasn’t happened.

Mom: You need to play hard to get.

Now, I don’t necessarily want to discuss my parents’ disparate reactions, or how weird it is that my mom chose to focus on whether or not I was sleeping with him while my dad just cared how dinner was. I also don’t want to talk about my mother’s passive comments like smirking at me when someone mention’s “fuck buddies” or straight up asking “who are you sleeping with now?” when I try to get my family to make plans in advance so I can plan the rest of my weekend.

“Sometimes you just wanna kiss the girl. . .”

If someone had told me, back in the early days of college, that I’d be standing in the school corporation parking lot late on a Sunday night, making out with my new college friend’s exboyfriend, I probably would have laughed in their face. Even if that someone had been the future me.

But that’s exactly where I was last night. 

Platonic, or Not Platonic? That is the Question

So, I recently started talking about The Traveling Progressive, who I’ve known for a while. He keeps throwing down these strange comments that basically make me think he would rather be friends even with all the flirting that happens when we’re out.

So, after he gave me a platonic hug on Tuesday night, I asked him to let me know when he got home. My friend J and I went to MacDo, ordered some burgers, and went home, with me bitching all the while about how does he ask our friend if I’m seeing anyone and then pull this platonic shit?

Bye-Bye, July

My life continues to get more and more complicated, even though things are going well in basically all aspects.

The Cop is officially away. We chatted a bit the few days before he left while he was out of town, but other than that I have been cut off. I did some Facebook stalking that I’m not proud of, mostly because it wasn’t so much of him but of girls who were tagged with him in recent photos. From a 5k. Because I am totally insane.

It was fruitless stalking, of course. I also had a cryptic conversation about The Cop with a mutual friend. It was good because I was making some pretty passive aggressive comments about men/dating/his friends. I know he found it funny because we used to have these conversations in high school. I’m mostly still happy that I refrained from ever texting him and asking if The Cop was interested in anyone. So now our mutual friend knows, but oh well? He would have figured it out eventually on his own anyway.

So it’s a bummer that The Cop is gone, but I will live. Because I have plenty to keep me busy/entertained.