Boy Crazy

I did a lot of things this semester. I cut about 9 inches of my hair off, causing people to ask if I had donated to Locks of Love, which led to me to sheepishly shake my head and reveal my selfishness in not waiting 2 more months so I could have the required amount of hair. I also started as host of Late Night ND and successfully produced 8 episodes (this all went a lot better than I had hoped, thanks to the awesome writers). I guess I took some classes, too, and did normal college things like go to bars and hang out with friends. And I guess I dated some people, too, but of course, since this is me we're talking about, these were not normal or typical dates. I'll change the names to be nice and I'll leave out a few of the boys who, well, just weren't that interesting or were actually nice to me.
First, there was Bob. Back in Rome, I was going through my list of facebook friends, trying to decide who I would date next semester. I picked Bob, a guy I had a crush on back in spring semester 2007. Somehow, through facebook messaging and eventual phone calls, Bob and I ended up hanging out. Yeah, I'm that good (or that weird that I plan this so far in advance). My plan for 2008 was to date a nice, normal guy, since it seemed to be my trend to date weirdos and creepers. It seemed I had hit the normal jackpot with Bob. But too much of an ordinary thing is, well, ordinary. Poor Bob really was a nice guy. He was sweet, cute, normal, boring, bland, from Ohio. Yeah, this wasn't working out. After a particularly average date with Bob, we went back to his dorm room to hang out. I thought to myself, "Alright, you made it through a dinner composed of long awkward pauses, at least get something out of this. Maybe he's a good kisser." So we're sitting there, watching TV, making awkward conversation about nothing, hitting awkward pause after awkward pause, and he is not making a single move. I can't take it anymore, so I say "Hey, you know what I hate? Awkward pauses." "Yeah, me too," says Bob. "What do we do about those?" I respond, "Well, I figure we have 2 options. Either we can keep on stumbling through boring small talk, or you could just kiss me. Personally, I'd prefer the latter of the options, but if that's not what you're into, I can just leave." So the emasculated Bob leaned in for a kiss. Nope, bad kisser. After about 5 seconds of that nonsense, I suggested we watch some Office DVDs instead. I guess planning ahead doesn't always lead to success.
Then there was Paul. I met Paul at an SYR (a semi-formal dance for all you non-ND folk--yes, I know, it's kind of weird). Paul was the complete opposite of Bob--Paul was completely insane. After Bob I thought that maybe normal isn't what I need, maybe I do need the crazy, but the right kind. Paul was definitely some kind of crazy, I just didn't know if he was right. He was fun, and a little violent, since he literally threw me while dancing with me, but he was cute and really funny. Funny is clutch. After the dance, all our friends went home, and we stayed and talked for a couple hours. Paul walked me home and gave me a sweet kiss before running away. Goofy, but sweet. I had a good feeling about him.
Then the fun crazy started to turn into freakin' weird. I heard a rumor that Paul did not use shampoo. Ever. I figured this must be a rumor until Paul admitted this to me without my prompting. Apparently, its his signature, to not wash his hair. It turns out that its also his signature to not only throw girls whilst dancing, but to also trip them, pull their hair, push them, etc during any activity at any time of day. It quickly became clear to me that Paul was immediately charming and progressively obnoxious because he was five years old. And as for the "sweet, nice" kiss at the end of the night--this became a raspberry on my face before a good laugh and attempt at tripping me. That's right, he raspberried my face. Paul is certainly the wrong type of weird for me.
There were a couple repeats this semester, too. Shawn, the guy I dated fall 2006 who would call me 7 times a day, made a brief appearance. He's the bartender at the Backer (my favorite South Bend bar) and saw me one night and threw a lime at me. Charming. He texted me with "U look cute tonite...I know u aren't looking 4 a relationship, but if u ever want to hang out, give me a call..." He found me 5 minutes later to make sure I had gotten the text. Then his gal pal approached me in the bathroom to ask what I thought of him. Yikes, this guy hasn't changed a bit.
This isn't so much of a repeat, but crazy guy from my summer course at Kent State randomly wrote on my wall, saying "i think its too bad that our evaluations of the world are so different, otherwise I'd so be into you!" Darn it! Why can't I change my opinions of the world so that I see music in buildings on KSU's campus or so that I find "sexy giraffe" a valid self-description??? I responded to his post by saying that variety is the spice of life and left it at that.
There were some other boys from this semester, but they are either not worth talking about (i.e. Clayton, the law student from the Backer who asked me to go home with him after 5 minutes of conversation), are actually very mean and don't even deserve the time it takes to write about them (Roma ladies and PE chicks, you know), or are too nice to deface in this blog (even though you don't even read it). I know, I'm not living the crazy life. I don't exactly have the makings of a saucy Carrie Bradshaw column going on here. But keep in mind that I do go to Notre Dame, we do have parietals, and I'm not telling you everything. On the one hand, I hope to find a great guy who is that perfect balance of normal and crazy, but on the other hand, I hope to keep attracting the weirdos so I can tally up the experiences and relay the stories.