And it burns, burns, burns...

*Warning to my dear sweet brothers: do not read this one.*

I entered college with very limited boy-related experience.  Let's blame this on my all-consuming love of theatre in high school.  I surrounded myself with gay men during my formative years and never learned how to properly interact with straight men.

I recieved a text the other night from Amanda, my roommate during my freshman year at WMU.

"Hey Steph, I miss you.  

what was the name of that guy you dated 

and then he stalked you freshman year?"

"Dated" is far too generous a word for the two evenings he and I spent together.  I wish I could say that I had completely wiped this guy from my memory completely, but no, he and everything about him will forever be seared into my brain, even as I slip into a dementia-induced bliss sixty years from now.

Had I known more about straight men, had I not just been eager for the "affection"/attention, I would have ignored him completely, but then this story wouldn't exist.

My friend Lindsay was having a beach-themed birthday party at the infamous Cedar House*.  That is where we had our fairytale-inspired meeting.  He had parked himself near the keg, eager to pump for girls that were too inebriated to do it themselves while holding the tap and their solo cup in their other hand.  I don't remember what he said to me, but some how I ended up on a black leather couch with him, while he tried to suck my tongue out of my mouth**.

 Lindsay's beach party night:
Amanda, Keriann, Me, Katie, and Tanda

The details of that night are a bit hazy, but I believe that I was saved by the other girls of fifth floor LeFevre and the arrival of DSK.  He and I exchanged numbers and I sailed off into the night in the backseat of a "Drive Safe Kalamazoo" sedan.

The following weekend he called me and  I met him in the cafeteria of my dorm.  I had a salad (lame) and he shoveled WMU's version of cheese ravioli into his mouth (I remember this, because his breath tasted like it later).  After an excessive make-out session on my dorm-room futon, we decided to go see a movie.  

Now, there are several movie theatres in Kalamazoo, in fact, the K-10 was less than a five minute drive from my dorm, but no, we went to some podunk theatre south of Portage to see "Walk the Line".  

We borrowed my friend's car and we stopped for gas on the way to the theatre.  The following events are too ridiculous for me to leave out.  He is driving.  He pulls up to the pump, walks around the back of the car, and realizes that the gas tank is on the other side of the car.  Now, in this situation the average person smiles stupidly, gets back in their car and moves to the correct side of the pump.  Not this genius though.  He laughs, opens the back door and tries to climb through the back seat, gas nozzle in hand, hoping to just run the line through the back seat of the car.  

This might as well have been us...

This should have been an early indicator to my eighteen year old self that this date was not going to go well.  However, I was still trying to make a good impression (why? I don't know, I was eighteen and stupid).  I said nothing, but laughed courteously along with him when he realized his plan wasn't going to work.  

Eventually he got the situation under control, the gas gauge needle shot all the way up to the half way mark, and we were back on the road. 

We make awkward small talk the rest of the way.  I begin to realize that I want nothing to do with this guy.  He talks about the fires he starts with his buddies and the gaming tournaments they hold, throwing out the word "epic" a few too many times.  I am thinking about how much it would hurt if I threw myself out of the car. "Tuck and roll," I think, "just tuck and roll."

We reach the theatre an hour before our movie started.  

An hour.

He parks the car and looks over at me.  In typical teen-movie-cliche-fashion, he moves toward me and puts his arm up on the back of my seat.  "What do you want to do?" he asks. 

I inch closer to the passenger door.  "Let's go inside and get our tickets," I tell him, trying not to sound as bitchy or pissed off as I feel.***

(I didn't catch on to how disappointed he was until he made me pay for my own ticket.)  

We get our tickets and find a bench outside our theatre.  Awkward silence.

Him: "Uh, you wanna just go in?"

Me: "I think there is a showing still going on..."

Him: "That's okay, they won't know."

So we go inside and watch the last half of the movie.  He puts his hand on my knee.  I cross my legs away from him.  

That showing ends, our's begins, and we watch the movie all the way through.  (Math majors? yep, I saw the end of "Walk the Line" twice...)  Let me just say, drunken-crazy Johnny Cash was much more of a turn-on than this guy.  

Hummina Hummina

Half way through the movie I start to think of ways to escape.  You know that scene where Reese Witherspoon yells at them about how she is "not going to be the little boy with her finger in the dam"?  Vaguely? That's okay... I checked out around there too.  

I have my cell phone, but none of my friends have cars on campus... shoot.

So the movie ends (for the second time) and we leave, riding home in silence.

Now, despite my lack of experience with boys, I assume that he has to know this isn't going well.  He doesn't.  We arrive at my dorm and he parks the car and walks me to the door.  He continues to follow me up to my dorm room.  The whole time I am thinking, "okay, he is just walking me to my door, that's nice."

Inside my dorm room my friends are splayed out across the futon, on the floor and in the loft beds, watching Pearl Harbor.  I had never been so happy to see these people than at that moment.  I squeeze in on the futon between Katie and Jen.  Bad date follows me in and parks himself on the floor.  The boy that I am madly in love with is parked on my bed****.   

So many good times in that dorm room and on that futon.  This night was not one of them.

So Pearl Harbor winds down, the lights come on and my friends start to file out of the room.  Soon it is just Amanda, Keriann, me, and him.  

"So, are you ever going to leave?" I finally ask him, no longer trying to hide my disdain.  

"Oh," he says, "I thought I would just spend the night..."

"Yeah, that's not happening," I tell him.  We finally push him out the door.

Over the next few weeks I ignored his calls, pretended I didn't see him in the cafeteria, and did not hook up with any other guys I met at the Cedar house.  Lesson learned.

I was humiliated by this rendezvous at the time, but since then I have learned to share this story as nothing more than a ridiculous "don't-let-this-happen-to-you" kind of tale and I can laugh at it now.  I recently decided to look this guy up on facebook.  When I experienced him, his profile picture was of him in a leprechaun costume bonging a beer (I pick winners).  Four years later he is still cringe worthy, but at least more of a grown up.

Guh. Next please.

*The Cedar house became our default party location.  I stole cereal and shot glasses from those poor boys. 
** I am not exaggerating, this is not a proper kissing technique.  No girl would like this.

**Since then, I have learned not to hide my feelings on bad dates.  It saves me from later awkwardness.

***To this day I hate myself for not climbing up there with him. 

InternExtern

For the past twelve weeks I have been serving as the research intern for the Grand Rapids Children's Museum. 

Tuesday will be the last day I race up the back stairwell to the office in hopes of grabbing the parking pass before the other interns. 

It will be the last time I curse myself for trusting the 90 degree temperature outside as an indicator that I will not need a sweater in the 64 degree office. 

It will be the last time I walk out of my office and see three little puppeteers performing an improvised masterpiece for their grandfather just outside the office door. 

I know that I have lamented this internship before.  It sucks knowing that I just committed 140 hours to a job that doesn't pay.  And while I subscribe to the belief that all experience is good experience, I just can't see where researching the ways in which play benefits child development will help me down the road. Those factors aside, I will miss that place.  The employees at the Children's Museum really love their jobs, even Sandra in accounting and Jack the IT guy.

I will miss the mid-afternoon theatrical displays put on by the Grand Rapids Hobo players in Veteran's park, just outside the museum windows.  I will even miss being offered sips from overflowing pimp cups, in exchange for my spare change as I sidestep saxophone cases and haggard old men sleeping on the pavement.

Perhaps I will still wander down there once in a while, just to eat my classic veggie from Grand Central Market in front of the outside mural.

Are You the Now or Never Kind?

I have done my fair share of irresponsible things.

Some worthy of noting, but the majority are not.

This week I jumped into what could quite possibly end up being the most irresponsible thing of them all.

With no job lined up, no cash saved, and no real plan, I agreed to lease an apartment in Chicago. This is pretty terrifying, in fact I spent several hours yesterday (After the mold had been cast) trying to not to cry while figuring out how to finance this new endeavor.

Now let me tell you, I am very blessed to have the family that I do. My wise older brother told me that these are the times when God steps in. Taking this leap gives me the opportunity to fully rely on God's providence, to really see him in action.

I have been praying about the job situation almost all day today, and then, on the way home from work I was suddenly brought back to my days as an Awana Sparky. One of those verses I had agonized over in second grade floated into my head.

"We are Sparks for Jesus, Sparks to light the world"

Philippians 4:6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.

And I felt myself calm down. I am doing everything within my power to find a job down there. I have about a month to do so. I have to believe that God will step in provide an opportunity for me.

I love Michigan with my whole heart, Michigan will always be home to me, but I can't spend my life living in the routine I have created.  New things.

Good things.