Tommy

     Well, I might as well divulge my most embarrassing moment now, its not like anyone is reading this anyway. His name was Tommy. I had known him for a long time, we grew up in the same place. After I broke up with Jimmy I looked him up. I had always kinda thought he was cute and he seemed a little more interesting than everything else available at that moment. I will mention that he and Jimmy were friends. Well, "friends". I dated Jimmy three years and they never hung out, never talked to each other but they attended elementary school together and apparently that has given them an unspeakable, unbreakable bond. I think its stupid but, it is no longer any of my business. Tommy and I met up for some drinks and ended up at his super secret special place in a local park (aka the dock on a pond with a decent view that he takes every girl to). I even knew then that it wasn't a special thing that he took me there, I did know better but I didn't care. Those of you who know anything about the way men and women interact know where this story is going. Yes, one thing led to another and I made the mistake that worldly women such as myself make at least once in a lifetime, I slept with him on the first date. I had never done anything even remotely like that before (and still haven't), it was just nice to vacate myself and enjoy my rebound. But let's just say, it wasn't great. I didn't know much about anything back then but I knew that it was supposed to be better than it was. In spite of this big giant red flag from the universe, I decided to see him again. I think we hung out a couple more times and then wouldn't you know it, as these things happen, we ended up at my apartment. I'll spare you, my non-existent blogoshpere audience, the gory details but my relationship with Tommy ends with these words,
                                   "I just don't have it in me..."
That was a pretty big hit to the old ego. I was going to give him one more shot to see if maybe the first time was just a fluke and here he was turning me down. Needless to say, this is the point at which I ceased participation in our little would be trist. We talked for a few hours and he left my apartment, never to be heard from again. I was glad for this fact, after hearing those seven little deadly words I was so humiliated I never did want to see him again but the comment has stuck with me. I know he had an issue with me being Jimmy's ex, but I think I wanted him to grow a pair and get over it. Do something outside the box. In the end, literally and figuratively, he was simply incapable.
     Tommy is long gone and he would be long forgotten if it hadn't been for his comment on that not so fateful night. I just don't have it in me. I'm a pretty confident person and I've got a relatively healthy self-esteem but that one was rough. I'm single now, by choice, but still I wonder. Its so very cliche and girly to ask but sometimes I do, 'Is he out there?' Where's my Mr. Right. I'll admit that if I found him now I probably would avoid the whole thing because the last thing I want right now is to be married by thirty. However, in a few years that are going to go fast, I'll be sick of looking for him. Will I find him? Will I overlook him if I do? At 21 years old, its people like Tommy that make me wonder if I'll be alone forever.

Erica

     I have a friend named Erica. We're friends because I met her at my transfer student orientation to college. Yes, they inflict this kind of torture on anyone admitted to a university, unfortunately for me. Erica was standing in the welcome line behind me and I struck up a conversation. I was in a new place, I didn't know anybody and this place was not home to the friendliest of people. Lo and behold, she hated this orientation ritual as much as I did! Instant friendship. We exchanged emails at the end of the day and headed for our respective shoe-box college apartments. The first day of classes came around and wouldn't you know it, Erica and I found ourselves in a class together. We suffered through the semester and got closer. She was only a year younger than me in reality, however in maturity it could have been decades. She grew up in the suburbs of my new city, red flag number one. Red flag number two: there was always drama with her other friends, roommates, boyfriend, etc. I will concede to the fact that any one of those groups of people can just be too dramatic and it may not have been Erica, but all of those groups together? It was her. There was always drama at her parties and not a single incident-free day passed in the year I spent with her.
     The straw that broke the camel's back came to me on a night out with a very old friend of mine. We invited Erica to come with us upon realizing we had never gone out on the town with her. For all the theatrics in her life she was a fun girl. We drew straws for designated driver, got downtown, parked and walked up to the bar. Each of us presented our driver's licenses to the bouncer in turn and we were all granted entry. This is not something I had previously worried about, at least not until I heard this upon receiving our fifth round of drinks, and I quote,
     Erica: "Oh my God, I was so worried they were going to take my ID!"
Now, my friend, Casey, and I both wondered why this would be an issue but it was Casey who asked the question, "Why would they take your ID? What's wrong with it?"
     Erica: "I'm using my sister's old one now and it's expired so I'm like super paranoid whenever I go out that somebody is going to see that it's not valid anymore haha."
Now at this point, I wanted there to be an explanation for this. Please don't tell me that we're aiding the underage girl in drinking. Visions of mug shots and misdemeanors danced through our heads. I was still basking in the warm glow of denial when I asked this, "Well what, is yours in the mail or something? Where is your ID?"
     Erica: "Oh, ha very funny."
     Horrified me: "Is that your answer?"
     Erica: "Oh no don't worry! I would never do anything stupid I mean my birthday is like six months away I don't wanna get a minor."
     Casey: "You know, it's getting really late, we should probably get out of here."
With that, and some protests from Erica, we left the bar and tried not to call attention to ourselves while walking back to the car. This experience combined with her extraordinarily overt materialism and let's say sheltered (a tiny bit racist, she's afraid of anyone who doesn't look like her) views of the world have led me to believe our friendship has played out.
     The catch? She is currently borrowing my couch. She didn't have one for her apartment and the one I have is too big for my space...so at the time it seemed like a perfect arrangement. And I wanted the money she was going to pay me to rent it so I could pick up a DKNY jacket. So while my basic instinct is to avoid her presence like the plague, I find myself wanting to play nice simply to make sure I get my couch back in good condition after her lease ends. Hello rock, meet hard place. Okay, maybe that is a little dramatic but it sums up my continuing relationship with Little Miss Erica.

Jimmy

      I'll start with Jimmy. I met him in high school. I hated him at first, he was always late to class and when he did manage to grace us with his presence he slept through the hour. I couldn't stand the fact that he didn't care about school. To me it was everything, if only I knew then that it actually didn't matter. I hated him until I talked to him. He was so carefree, it was nice to talk to someone who didn't give a damn about anything. He was a smoker and I'm a smart aleck so I brought in some of my brother's nicorette gum. I put a note on it that said, 'that shit'll kill you someday'. He laughed and asked for my number. That marks the beginning. We hung out (made out) for most of the summer and then I went off to college. I dated a couple people in college but couldn't shake him. Apparently he couldn't shake me either, he came to visit me. And that was it, we started dating, then we got serious and then we loved each other, eventually we got sick of each other. We had a great relationship, and for a while we actually did love each other. But we grew up. We simply grew out of one another, like a sweater or a pair of shoes. It was a quiet break up, actually one of the more pleasant ones I've been a part of.
      Jimmy's an auto mechanic, he's got very jagged edges and he doesn't like most other people. He has terrible road rage, never turns his phone off...doesn't like to sit at home very much. He drinks enough and smokes too much, he eats too much fast food and the only thing he ever wears are black t-shirts and blue jeans. He hates spending extended periods of time (more than an hour) with his family, extended or otherwise. Long story short, he is not the nicest person, especially not to women. He's always been good to me but now that I hear the way he talks about other women, I see he's not so kind. He only talks to girls long enough to figure his chances at sleeping with them and if the chances are slim or he thinks they aren't pretty enough, he'll move on to someone else with out care or concern.
      Jimmy and I still sleep together. I know, it's crazy but he's there, my number doesn't go up and it's a secret to keep. And I know we won't fall in love with each other, been there done that. Maybe it's wrong I don't know, but I don't care either. It may not get me into heaven but few things I do ever will. Jimmy lives his life so, moment to moment. I think that's intoxicating. When we're together, I let go and he settles down.
      My lesson learned from Jimmy is that everybody is good to somebody. Whether it's their mother, brother, neighbor or whatever but even the worst people have someone they're nice to. The flip side of that?  To the other 99% of the population, these people are jack-asses. Jimmy may be nice to me but to most of the other people he meets, he's rude, disrespectful and he's probably that guy tailgating you on the highway. Now I give my time and energy only to the people who deserve it, the ones who hold me in their 1%. Don't waste your time being someone you think people want you to be, it's a waste of breath and those aren't the people you want to know anyway. Be what you are, it presents more of a challenge.

      There is a theory. A theory that all people on earth are connected through a chain of six people. This means that six people from me is a small Chinese woman in South Africa or Kevin Bacon. Simple enough. Is it true? In a moment of oddly rare optimism, I'll chose to take this as fact. So, who do I know? I'm examining my relationships, even the juicy ones and the people I can't stand. Names have been changed in part to protect my subject's privacy but mostly to avoid lawsuit or arrest for everyone. I know this introduction is probably too short but I'll counter that notion with my favorite quote, "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn!"