In The Beginning There was Adam...

I hope God does not mind me taking a line from His good book. If he does, I am sure he will let me know about it. So, with the possibility of being struck down, I say unto thee, in the beginning there was Adam.

Adam was my first official boyfriend. I was a junior in high school, which puts me at about seventeen years old, when we started to date. We dated for a total of two months with a prior wooing period of about three months. We met through a youth group and quickly exchanged email addresses. He wooed me over AIM with eloquent, romantic language such as "lol", "brb", "g2g" and "cya." Not to mention the coy and emotion-filled emoticon like ":)" or ":D." I almost felt like I was lost in a Jane Austen novel.

He was from a different town which made him mysterious and exciting. He was taller than me, he had light green eyes, he was cute, he was interested in the same music as me and he liked me. That was the all the criteria I needed. Actually, all I think I really needed at this time in my life was that he liked me and that he was taller than me. The rest are just perks. I mean, all the other seven girls in my class had managed to secure a boy, yet I had not. I have no problem admitting I was desperate.

So, when he asked me out, I said yes. Let's be serious: cute person from opposite sex + likes me + pressure to fit in = high school relationship.

And that decision, my readers, is where my journey with weird and highly unsuccessful interactions with the male populace begins.

Within the first week of dating, Adam told me there was a song that reminded him of me. I, like any other girl, thought of how sweet such a comment was. I thought of all the songs it could be. Something romantic or sweet or cute. It could be, dare I think it, our song. I asked him which song. He replied Mood Swings by Relient K. (Oh, yes. He was also very Christian) Not familiar with the song or band, I returned home to download the song and look up the lyrics.

This is what I found:

she's so pretty but she but doesn't always act that way
her mood's out swinging on the swing set almost every day
she said to me that she's so happy it's depressing
and all i said was "someone get that girl a mood ring"


if it's drama you want then look no further
they're like the real world meets boy meets world meets days of our lives
and it just kills me how they get away with murder
they'll anger you then bat their eyes; those pretty eyes that watch you sympathize

Not a love song. Not a cute song. Not a sweet song. But instead, a this-girl-is-fucking-crazy song.

Needless to say, I was put off. I never did ask him what he meant by saying this song reminded him of me, in fear of appearing moody. I conjectured enough and came to my own conclusions. I just did not understand why he felt the need to tell me that he thought that I was an emotional wreck. Why he thought someone he was dating should know he believed they were over-the-top dramatic and moody. And, more importantly, what he thought my reaction was going to be to being called emotional. Surely he counted on it being...well, emotional.

I knew from that exact moment that this relationship was over. Yet, I continued to date him for another two months because it was high school and I was willing to over look it. Plus, the song did say I was "so pretty."

Although Adam and I have long since parted ways, I admit to having Mood Swings in my iTunes library and listening to it from time to time . I keep it was a reminder of what once was and what I never hope to repeat: Dating someone because it is convenient. Or dating someone who thinks you are a psycho.

Looking back though, I really do think this sets the pace for the following years. Men have continued to not just say typical male responses or comments, but have truly gone above and beyond the call of duty in making me stop and ask, what the fuck?

Next time......"No, Really, Feel Free to Comment on my Weight..."

Experience

"Men seldom make passes / At girls who wear glasses"-Dorothy Parker

Yup. Dorothy had it right. I think I could add to her list, too. Or perhaps just make it more specific; Men seldom make passes at girls named Chelsea Magruder.

But, bless her, she kindly avoided using my name. Plus, Magruder does not really rhyme with glasses. Maybe I could just modify it a bit to fit...Men seldom try to get in the cooter of girls named Chelsea Magruder. Not as eloquent. More crass than anything.

I digress. What I am trying to convey is that I feel that Dorothy Parker is a kindred spirit. Her poetry, short stories and witty quips share an emotionally honest look at what it means to be a woman. Whether that woman be in love, out of love, looking for love or looking for an end. Even though she wrote a bulk of her verses almost ninety years ago, those verses give a certain solace; I know that I am not the first, or last, woman to fail to "inspire / In men the rush and roar of fire." She humourusly sums up how I feel about most men I have met; they "Were---shall we say?---born out of wedlock."

Most important to anyone reading this, Dorothy Parker has inspired me to share my own experiences. Not to meet some sort of self-aggrandizing agenda, but in hopes that through (what I hope to convey as) wit, I can help other women find solace and humor in those experiences that make us who we are. And selfishly, to make myself find solace and humor in those experiences.

So, expect to find posts about past, present and future experiences in my life. I think the prevailing theme will be of that bitch LOVE and my experience in the pursuit of it. As you can tell by my beginning, my experiences tend to be more pessimistic than anything. There will also be some observations and rhetorical questions thrown in to mix things up. Oh, and constant references to and quotes from Dorothy Parker, my own personal god.

Next time...."In the Beginning there was Adam...."