Yep. It’s a Spice Girls reference. And don’t judge, ’cause I know you liked them too. I remember some of their music videos, especially that first one where they just ran from room to room and then stood on some steps and sang. My sister had the CD.
But I didn’t like them enough to dedicate a whole blog post to ’em. This is about something else, entirely.
You see, I’ve been single. For quite a while. I’m not going to say how long because it’s kind of embarrassing and also there were a couple in there that were basically my boyfriend, we just never called it that.
And that’s fine. ‘Cause I am all kinds of I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T and not like the dumb girl in the Twilight books who is teaching young female readers that they need a boyfriend to feel worth anything in the world.
Sidenote: A couple weeks ago, someone tweeted a Stephen King quote that I liked. Whether he actually said it or not, it sums up why I hate those books and like Harry Potter so much. The quote was “Harry Potter is about doing what’s right in the face of adversity and Twilight is about how important it is to have a boyfriend.”
That’s not to say I don’t want one, because I do. I’ve just had so many bad/ridiculous/there’s-not-even-a-word-for-it experiences, I’ve gotten used to it being just me.
But know this. I am a catch. For serious.
I think I just miss the way it feels to be in a relationship. Or even just to start one. ‘Cause it’s hard to meet people after college. Meet people sober, anyway. You’ve got to go to a bar or something because, as someone recently – and wisely – said to me “Meeting each other by bumping into the other person’s cart in the grocery and other crap like that only happens in the movies.”
Or people try and set you up. Or say they will and don’t actually go through with it for whatever reason.
I miss those beginning moments the most. Like, my most serious relationship to date, when it started, it was great. We met at a party in college and after it was over, he walked me back to my dorm that night and said he’d call me the next day to hang out again.
Well, the whole day until that phone call? Butterflies. Not like the ones I got before we flew to London, I think that was gas. JK. But my stomach did hurt until we got to Paris…
Seriously, though. The butterflies thing really does happen. And that night, when he called? I had a huge dumb grin and after hanging up the phone jumped up and down like they do in cliche-filled romantic comedies. You know, after they’ve kissed and they close the door and one of them freaks out? Yeah. That was me. Only time in my life, so far, I’ve ever been like that.
I don’t know why I’ve thought about that lately. It’s not the guy – we’re long over. Friends, now, even though when we broke up it was bad. And he’s getting married in a couple months, which doesn’t bother me in the slightest.
And I know it’ll happen. Whenever it decides to happen. That’s what people keep saying and I guess I believe it.
I’m just so damn impatient.