DJ Regi-Reg

The Up-and-Coming DJ (obviously his name wasn't really Regi - I have dated some fellas with odd names, but Regi would be a deal-breaker, especially spelled that way!)

… only he wasn't this cool. DJ Regi-Reg REPRESENTIN!!

Background Info:

His name: He went by the name of Regi (pronounced like “Reggie” but only spelled with one g, because he was way cooler than anyone else who had ever spelled the name Reggie).

My age: 19

His age: probably the same, although I don’t remember discussing it.

His drug of choice at the time: the multiple times daily marijuana cigarette and anything with Jagermeister in it. ick. 

i canNOT do some jager. simply cannot.

My drink of choice at the time: Anything with Blue Curaçao.

i could seriously vomit right now.

How we met: Sophomore English class at MTSU¹.

Our first date: I don’t think we ever actually went on a “date” per se².

Length of relationship: three weeks, tops…

Why it started: he was the first boy to pay me any attention after the coke head. That should suffice as explanation.

1. I remember this semester vividly. It was the first semester since the coke head debacle. I was super focused on school, commuting from home (thirty minutes from school), taking 18 credit hours and was extremely active in my sorority, even running for office. I was also taking Hydroxycut (the old school Hydroxycut with ephedra – back when OTC diet pills actually worked) and usually only ate about ½ of a ham sandwich per day (i was accidentally starving myself as a side effect of the ephedra and my hectic schedule). I was wearing a hot pink Kappa Delta shirt and jean shorts… my hair was styled curly and half-up. It is forever etched in my memory… Ahhhh, the one that got away.2. This, unfortunately, can be added to the list of recurring themes. Fellas, if I might be permitted to digress momentarily: what in the hell has given you all the idea that it is okay to only hang out with a girl behind closed doors, never taking her out in public or treating her to dinner and/or a movie?!! What’s that you say? Oh, it’s the fact that we, as women, not only accept this kind of behavior, but come back for more again and again? Oh…. Well touché, then. Moving right along… (FYI to the ladies AND the gentlemen (and my current self) – we are worth MORE THAN THIS!!!!!)

 The Story:

      I had been eyeing Regi for the entire semester. He seemed to be a bit of a bad boy³ with his New Balances and sweat pants.

I don't know what it is with me and some New Balance tennis shoes…. but damn! I love 'em!

         I realize that this outfit sounds terrible, but he actually looked cute. He rarely spoke in class and when he did, it was just a few words. Regardless, I wanted him to want me. The planets finally aligned and we were assigned to a group project together… with the most annoying girl in class, who was a total trash ball. We sat down to work on the project and Ms. Trash herself was the one making Regi smile instead of ME making him smile. This was NOT going as planned, and quite frankly was unacceptable behavior. I became discouraged, quiet, and withdrawn⁴. At the end of class, I grabbed my bag and exited the classroom. To my surprise, Regi was in hot pursuit and he asked for my number. I’m sure he gave me some song and dance in order to obtain my phone number, but I honestly can’t recall what was discussed other than him saying he had been waiting for me to talk to him all semester (eeeeeeeepppppppp!!!!!!!), all I know is that I was REALLY excited.

           

3. Ladies, we’ve all had our flings with bad boys. There seems to be something written in the female DNA that absolutely REQUIRES us to have some kind of roll in the proverbial (or literal) hay with a bad boy. Most of us, thank ya Jesus, get it out of our system after one… or two.
4. I know this is impossible for y’all to imagine.

            I also can’t remember how much time lapsed between when he got my number, when he actually called, and when we got together⁵. I do, however, remember thinking as I approached his apartment that it closely resembled government sanctioned housing, and I was a little bit (read: a LOT) alarmed. I went inside and proceeded to play with his Pit Bull puppy, Briley. She was about eight weeks old, aptly named “after the street where she was born” (no lies – that’s a true story) and she was mean as a damned snake. Now, don’t get me wrong, y’all know I’m a huge Pit advocate, but this little bitch was inbred or something. I have NEVER been around a dog like this one. She was a ferocious beast, biting and shaking human flesh at every opportunity. He ended up giving her away and who knows what happened to the poor pup. Anyways – I digress…

            During this “date” Regi made two grave errors, which will be discussed in detail individually. Firstly, after learning that Forrest Gump was, is, and always will be my favorite movie of all time, he inaccurately quoted how many Dr. Peppers Forrest drank while waiting to meet the President⁶. He proceeded to argue with me about it until we were forced to watch that section of the movie so that I could prove him wrong.

5. I found a journal that I had kept for a few months during this time of my life (my          journal habits have always been half-hearted and sporadic) that detailed my feelings for Regi (it is KILLING me not being able to write his actual name – but alas, I don’t want to get sued, so Regi it is). Next to the date of the first entry dealing with mine and Regi’s romance were several hearts, which is a big deal for me. I don't dole out a heart willy-nilly, much less "several" hearts. Also, he had apparently told me that he had been having “that feeling that runs through you” all weekend after he had gotten my number. My nineteen year old heart soared – my almost thirty-one year old heart wonders if he had diarrhea pains, most often referred to as “the hot cramps” by yours truly (that one’s for you, Ty!). I say all of this to reiterate the point that I was a GONER from minute one. I was vulnerable and he happened to strike while the gettin’ was good (In actuality, I honestly don't think he had any ulterior motives. Regardless, it was still Bad news bears).
6. Brownie points to those of you who know the answer WITHOUT looking it up!!

            The second error was Regi revealing just how unintelligent he actually was, which, consequently, was quite unintelligent. That conversation proceeded as follows:

Me: I love dill pickles. They should be their own food group.

Regi: Ewww! You eat pickles?? Sick!

Me: <laughing> What? Why are pickles sick?

Regi: Don’t you know how a pickle becomes a pickle?! <with a look of utter revolt on his face>

Me: Uhhhh… It sits in pickle juice for a while? <totally missing the memo on why this is so disgusting>

Regi: NO!!! It, like, goes through a chemical change!!!

Me: So… you don’t eat any food that’s gone through a chemical change?

Regi: OF COURSE NOT!

Me: So… you don’t eat cooked food? Ice? ……

Regi: Gosh, you’re really smart….

Me: Mmmm hm….

"Eeeewwwwwwwwww….."

            At some point that night I met his sister (she stopped by) and distinctly remember her wearing really short jean shorts with tall white socks and k-swiss shoes. She was also a fan of extremely dark lipliner (I’m talkin dark brown eyeliner) and clear gloss. WRECK.

I can neither confirm nor deny that this is, in fact, her… ok, it's not. 

pretty sure she was going for exhibit A

but she ended up with exhibit B… only she was Caucasian.

            We didn’t hang out after that, but for years to come he would affectionately introduce me as I entered Nashville and Murfreesboro area clubs where he happened to be DJing. I would go to the DJ booth to flirt with him, bring him shots and request songs. I always got a birthday shout out, and my song requests were ALWAYS played… It was cool. I’ve definitely had faux-mances that have ended in worse ways. To my knowledge he is still DJing in the area. Nice enough guy, but come on, man. Let’s get a big boy job with big boy hours already. We’re THIRTY. It’s not cool anymore (if it ever was).

Regi-Reg's future gigs in cheap hotel lobbies. I love a man with ambition!

Poetry is never okay

Stage 5 Clinger # 1 (I’ve had more than one!!!)

His name: We’ll call him Cedric

My age: 21

His age: 21 (I think)

How we met: At a party or a bar or something. I honestly can’t remember¹.

Our first date: We went to the budget movie theater in Murfreesboro and saw Hidalgo².

Viggo, my boy, if you're not getting nekkid, i'm off it.

Length of relationship: One date³.

Why it started: He was there⁴.

                                               

1. When I asked Ty if she remembered where we met, she couldn’t remember, either. When I threw out “some website” as an option, she vehemently answered, “no, you didn’t do websites back then…” Ha. As opposed to my current state of “doing” websites. She did, however, recall that he had a spot-on feminine boy impression, during which he stuck his ass out, batted his eyelashes and cooed, "Hey there sultry eyes." Ty loved it. I did not.
2. Terrible movie, and even more terrible date movie. I do not recommend.
3. This will be a recurring theme.
4. This will also be a recurring theme.

The Story:

Cedric and I met somewhere, doing something fun, I’m sure. My college days were full of fun. I had a busy social life, and at this time I had just started nursing school, so I still had time for things other than re-copying my notes incessantly and making up stupid coordinating songs and dances to remember the disease process of liver failure⁵. Basically, I hadn’t yet realized how much I would have to study to make Cs. Meh. Anyhow, Cedric seemed like a cool enough guy. He was a stocky guy, very tall, probably 6’3 and about 275 pounds, with gorgeous blue eyes. He was also Caucasian, even though his name does not sound like it⁶.

not exactly what I have in mind when I think "stocky" but okay....

5. Hhhheeeeeeyyyyyyy, liver flap! I think Ashley still has the video somewhere…
6. I've protected his identity because, according to facebook, some poor girl is voluntarily spending time with him these days, and I don't want to humiliate her - what a sad state of affairs.

So, Cedric and I most likely texted for a few days and then decided to go on a date. We decided to see Hidalgo, a decision that I still question, and headed back to the townhouse that Ty and I rented at the time. Ty wasn’t home when we got back, and we settled in on the couch and perhaps turned the television on, who knows. I am mainly concerned with what happened once the kissing evolved into the every politically correct term “heavy petting.”⁷.

7. I STRONGLY URGE you to look this term up on UrbanDictionary.com. Hilarity is sure to ensue.

Cedric and I moved the action to the bedroom, where he apparently believed that he would be sleeping for the night. However, this was soon to change, as he screamed out like a pre-pubescent girl when my skin⁸ made contact with his skin^9,10.

8. My hand.
9. Not his hand.
10. How’s that for keepin it PG-13???

aaaaaaaaaand i'm done.

I was appalled. I froze. I was literally unable to move, I was so disgusted. My boy, that is the absolute INCORRECT reaction to that type of stimulation. You know when you’re all in the mood for some romanticals and everything is going well, things are on their way, you’re feeling it, it’s gonna be good stuff, we’re gonna--- aaaannnnddddd no. Can’t do it. Nope. Get out of my bed and go the hell home. RIGHT DAMN NOW!!! Don’t think for one second that I didn’t make him leave. I did, and I didn’t plan on talking to him ever again. Apparently he had different plans.

bye

I think that it was about a week later that I received an AIM from him¹¹ approximately fifteen seconds after I had signed on. Stalker, much? But, in the interest of letting him down gently, I talked to him for a moment. Of course, the conversation came around to seeing me again in no time at all. I declined his invitation in my usual honest way by telling him that I just had not felt a “spark” when we were together¹². There was a moment’s pause as AOL told me, in small faded gray letters, that he was typing a response. I was pretty shocked when I read what he had typed in reply. In fact, it had caused me to simultaneously laugh out loud¹³ and become quite irritated. He had said “WHAT? You waited ALL this time to tell me that?!” I was sure that he had me confused with some other girl he had been dating. With a perplexed look on my face, I typed, “All what time? It’s been four days.” He waited a few beats and asked if we could still be friends. I told him that sure, we could still be friends, thinking to myself how that very rarely happens. With that statement, both people are basically agreeing to not harbor hard feelings toward the other, and if faced with the awkward situation of running into each other in a social setting, you will be, at the very least, civil with each other. Cool. Done. Moving right along…

what? this? oh, i was just... i am in the mood for a hot dog... for dinner, i mean... not for anything else...  ok then.

11. Ah, AOL Instant Messenger. Remember the extremely detailed “away” messages that would get posted? Something to the effect of, “I’m going to class, then to lunch, then to more classes, then I have to run to Food Lion, then to the gym (what, what!), then headed to the Beta house for a party!!! Hit me on my cellie if you need me!!!” Like anyone, anywhere, at any time needed to know your schedule in that much detail. It was the facebook status of the old days.
12. This was not untrue. He didn’t need to know the particular reason for the lack of a spark, did he? Actually, I probably could have done his current girlfriend a favor by just breakin it on down for him, but I didn’t have the balls to do that at the time – don’t be testin me now, though!
13. LOL!

We didn’t have any classes together, so I carried on for the next few weeks not thinking much of the whole situation¹⁴, until I receive another AIM from him. I am intrigued, because, honestly, I did pick up a little cray vibe coming off of him, not gonna lie.

14. Unless I was telling my friends about the awkward bedroom situation, a story which was, and still is, funny as hell. This was before the times when my friends ask me to tell “all of my stories” to complete strangers whom I have known for three minutes. However, they are hilarious and decent ice breakers and let’s face it: I just plain don’t give a damn and am very comfortable with laughing at myself. These types of things happen to me ALL. THE. TIME.

Our instant message convo went a little something like this:

Cedric44: Hey, how’s it going?

Courtney33: Fine. How are you doing?

Cedric44: Fine. Been seeing a new girl lately. She’s really hot.

Courtney33: (staring at computer screen with straight face and right eyebrow arching to the sky, my typical look of skepticism) Well, that’s awesome. Hope it goes well.

Cedric44: I bought some of that cologne that you thought smelled so good. I think I’m gonna wear it next time I take her out.

Courtney33: (acknowledging how random that statement is) Oh yeah…. Smells good.

Cedric44: Yeah… maybe the next guy that you date will wear that cologne…

Courtney33: (thinking “uuuhhhhhhhh…………..”) ok….

Cedric44: Yeah, and then you can stomp all over his heart like you stomped on mine.

And then he sent me a poem that he had written about how I had broken his heart, and he just wanted someone to love him for who he was, etc., etc., etc. At this point I’m becoming worried that he knows where I live. So, because I’m sensitive like that, I promptly told everyone that I knew what a weirdo he was. EVERYONE.

Cedric was the first of many clingy men who have been in my life, and I believe that every woman needs to experience at least one clinger in her life for the following reasons:

A. It’s nice to feel wanted, even when the person who wants you is likely capable of ending your life one day.

B. It makes for titillating conversation.

C. It will give you a renewed appreciation for every single man that you’ve ever done this to… and we’ve all had a few! Don’t even lie about it, ladies. We’ve all had a clingy moment. It’s okay to admit it.

I would have been content to stop at one clinger. However, there have been two since then, their actions increasing in severity as their age increases. Hopefully, this last one¹⁵ will be the final chapter in my book of obsessive men, but time will tell. Damn these good looks of mine – they’re a blessing and a curse¹⁶!

15. Which lasted a total of five days! Yesssssssss… they just can’t even handle themselves long enough to learn my middle name.
16. I wish they would back up OFF a sister. Let a playa PLAY!

an introduction to the madness

Hi. I am thirty years old. I am a successful, Master’s prepared Registered Nurse who owns her own home. I have a wonderful family, amazing friends, and the best dog in the world. I’m not hard to look at. I'm brutally honest, golden retriever loyal and pretty damn funny if I do say so myself. However, I am seemingly perpetually single. At this point, most people offer the usual platitudes, such as “You’ll meet him when you least expect it” or “One day, when you’re not looking for it” and “He’s out there.” To these comments I almost always reply, “Don’t you think that old lady with all the pit bulls that lives on the corner heard that a billion times? I bet she was cooler than me when she was thirty.”

I truly question whether or not I will ever meet someone that I can stand for more than five minutes, and I don’t feel that my list of criteria is that picky – most of my friends agree. My list is fairly simple. He will act like a grown man, rather than a boy. Is ambitious and able to pay his bills and still afford to take me out on a date every once in a while. Is confident, but not arrogant. Is able to read and string together some coherent thoughts to contribute to a meaningful conversation every so often. Is fairly talented with the romanticals, or at least willing to learn new tricks. Is not hard to look at. Is nice to my family and friends. Loves my dog. Eventually decides that I’m absolutely amazing, drama allergy and low threshold for bullshit included. Does not have children who will give me shit for not being their mommy. Does not want me to act like his mommy.

I could go on and on. The point is, I’m not that picky (am I???), and I still can’t find anyone. I have been on eHarmony twice and Match.com more times than I can count (I think I’m currently on my fifth go round). Most of my friends are married or attached, and we all know that the “married and attached” tend to congregate with other “marrieds and attacheds,” so that’s hopeless. Meeting someone at work is basically out of the question. Doctors are notoriously married and cheating or single and narcissistic. Done and done. Or gay. REAL done. I certainly can't date a patient, mainly because now that I work in Pediatrics, it would be illegal and/or immoral. I attempted to go to a large church and attend a “singles” class (which I know is the shittiest reason EVER to attend church, but I actually enjoy the services at this particular locale, so it was a win-win). This was a catastrophe due to the fact that out of literally fifty some-odd classes, one (let me re-iterate that point: OOOONNNNNNEEEEEEEEE) class was geared toward people in their late twenties who were single, because, let's face it, I might as well be a leper. Late twenties spinsterhood is a fate worse than death in the Bible Belt. A class. Just one. And guess what happened when I went to said class? I’ll give you three guesses but I bet you only need one!! Everyone in the class was dating each other and they talked about how to build a life with your significant other. Vomit on my patent leather pumps (which I probably wasn’t wearing but it sounded “literary”).

So, having decided that there's nothing left to do at this point than to have a good belly laugh at it all, I will now regale you with my top eleven list of dating No-No’s. Close friends will appreciate the sheer amount of stupid shit that has happened to me, and will vehemently back me up when I tell you that it was damn near impossible to narrow this list to only ten items/events/situations… so I decided to go with eleven!

**Editor's note: I stopped after three entries because I'm going to write a book instead (one day!).