Music to my Ears

I haven't really talked about the Scot much but I guess thats just because nothing has been going wrong. We've been seeing each other for a couple months, but its been about three weeks since I've last seen him being on Winter Break and all..
Before I packed up all my things headed back home, before he flew home to Scotland, he came over after my last exam. I was completely fried after just having two back to back exams, having studied all through the night before and not getting a lick of sleep, I was more than due for a good shower and nap. None of that mattered though. We met up so I could lend him my calculator, in other words so we could get in one last make out sesh'. We walked back to my room, hands held and kept warm in his coat pocket, seeing friends along the way, wishing them a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Finally reaching my room and getting out of the cold, we talked casually for a moment and then just hugged really tightly, falling on to my bed and not moving from our embrace. We only had a couple minutes as he had an exam soon and my mom would shortly arrive to pick me up, but they were well spent indeed.

Now, three weeks later things have changed mildly. Not for the worse its just been a while since we've seen each other but with a week to go I am so ecstatic. He gets back to the States a week before school starts up so I'm welcoming him back properly and staying over his apartment next Monday night.

This happened just a couple hours ago, just thought I'd share:


The Scot: what you doing now?
ETP: nothing tonight. just a movie with my sister worked this morning had dinner with the family tonight
The Scot: id love to come in from work to you it would be lovely
The Scot: go for a wee bath with you and tell you about my nightmare PE kids
or how im getting too old for soccer
The Scot: then i'd have a wee tea and and listen about you and your day at the hospital
ETP: aww haha that does sound lovely
The Scot: id throw a stick on the fire and lie on the sofa beside you and watch the scottish news i pay for specially on comcast if its possible lol
ETP: we could get the satellite, watch celtic!
The Scot: then i'd whisk you to bed ( a big one with comforter) and kiss every inch of you show my sexy little septic* how much i fancy her
ETP: well doesnt that just sound perfect 
ETP: sign me up!
ETP: maybe we can do the last part sooner rather than later 
The Scot: ahead of my tea, bath and the news?
The Scot: oh woman much to learn lol
ETP: no no i mean sooner as in maybe next week! haha not in 10 years
The Scot: oh lol ok but i cant offer you a big bed or scottish news
The Scot: not even a bath
The Scot: im still making my way but i can still show you how much i fancy you
ETP: well thats more than enough for me.


Unbelievable, right? Oh God, can I keep him?






*Septic is cockney slang for Americans. Pretty offensive, I know. They do this rhyming thing with all of their slang so "Yank" rhymes with Septic Tank. The Scot affectionately refers to me as his "wee Septic"

How do you remember 18?

On the drive to midnight mass tonight (p.s. Merry Christmas folks) my dad and I got into a discussion about his girlfriend's relationship with her children. She's one of those moms who allows your bf/gf to sleepover in your bed, y'know one of those families. Being the diplomatic blogger and person I strive to be, I don't see what the big deal as far as my dad goes. Listen, bud, you don't live there and your girlfriend can crash at your place if you want to have a kid-free snuggle sesh. Fine. He just sees that level of sexual comfort in a household to be disrespectful to the mother. In the whole shpeil he referred to his girlfriend and himself as "seasoned adults", carefully picking his words. Placing "seasoned" before adult so not to equate me with himself. Interesting.

When is one finally recognized as an adult in society?
We're assorted different privileges at different ages, few being appropriate.
We all go on to do different things with our lives at different points, some things governing more or less responsibilities.
It is a standard in our culture that continues to perplex me, especially now that I am recognized as a "legal" adult, whatever that means.

I've come up with a couple ideas as to what defines an adult: A) You are capable of supporting yourself. And if you're REALLY good, B) You're capable of supporting someone else while supporting yourself.

All of these thoughts come into question after moving back home for winter break... I receive a great deal of respect at college, it typically comes along with all the responsibility. I do what I want, when I want. Its wonderful. Teachers assign me things, no one is breathing down my neck forcing me to do it. If I want to get completely obliterated the night before an early class, thats my fucking prerogative. The whole thing is down right refreshing.

I come back to my small hometown and immediately I'm right where I left off. I mean, the idea of college seems really fun and wild to everyone so folks are usually pretty eager asking about the whole bit, but other than that nothing has changed. I'm still just a kid. I went to alumni day a couple days ago and I freaked out a little inside during the first few minutes. (Granted: I WAS a little high after the bowl me and the amigos smoked before going in, but I bet it would have been just as terrifying otherwise)

The same people I still couldn't relate to on any level except for the fact that we had attended the same high school and, most likely, middle school. The whole thing was awkward and I was really unsure of myself the whole time. The hallways seemed too fucking familiar, I had been away too long to miss it and not long enough to feel missed and welcomed by others. With the usual woes upon moving to college (homesick b.s.) your last days from high school are so glorified and truly missed... but shit. After going back, I am SO fucking psyched to be done with all of that. Ugh. I'll take my best friends with me and say PEACE to the rest of the bullsh I no longer have to deal with on a regular basis. Such as: being constantly monitored, being forced to interact with shitty people.

I was even mistaken for a student and almost got reprimanded for leaving the school before it got out. It was funny and so innocent, yet mildly insulting. DON'T YOU KNOW I'M LEGALLY CONSIDERED AN ADULT NOW AND ATTEND COLLEGE!?

Its just funny. and weird. Its an awkward stage to be in, 18. Adult, technically. Still a kid, supposedly. A hefty load of new responsibilities but not enough to get any pats on the back.. Hmph. How do you remember 18? When did you start feeling entitled to Adult-size respect?

Sons of Scotland! I am your biggest fan.*

I've been told good things come to those who wait, or at least that's the idea anyways.
I started to realize something about my dating habits upon flipping through pages of my journal, the book that holds all the deep dark secrets I'm even too embarrassed to share to strangers. What I realized was that I date the same guy over and over again; starts the same way, ends the same way. I feel the exact same way about everyone of them start to finish.
Why do I do this? I went to college and out of all the fish in the cesspool I took interest in one who was emotionally unavailable, ridiculously insensitive and more over, completely unapologetic. Alas, I learned my lesson and self-destruction is out of my system for at least another few months or so.

For the past couple months I've been hanging out with a nice Scottish boy who recently moved to the US to play on my school's soccer team. We actually met in my school's cafeteria in the pizza line. (side note: pizza= safe choice= doesn't act as colon blow upon leaving the dining hall) When I saw him my jaw literally dropped... I mean I usually always browse in every public setting, but he really caught my eye. Then he opened his mouth and out came the most powerful aphrodisiac known to all womankind, and I suppose guys as well, an accent. Not just any accent, a scottish one!

I kept running into the Scot and eventually we started talking. One day I saw him in the cafe and I told him about how I had visited a place called West Rock in New Haven and how I would really love to bring him there. Its super beautiful and a choice spot to spark a joint.



Pretty, right??

We never actually went to West Rock but we did start talking regularly and eventually begun hanging out. Although the accent really intrigued me, perhaps because I assumed he was different in other ways too, once I started to get to know him I was pleasantly surprised to find a very wholesome person with similar values and ideals to mine. A great looking Scot with morals? Wow, that sounds delicious, I'll have two!

As we hung out I was beginning to wonder just how he saw me....He insisted on paying for me, was quite the gentleman and quite a bit of flirting went down. But he never made a move. So I began to think, after a couple months of the same old hug goodnight, ahem what the fuck Scotty?
Just as I was about to give up, he professed his love to me one night (something that went a little like: "I fancy the arse off you.") and kissed me shortly there after. Halllllllelujah folks.

Stay tuned for more tales of the Scot.. :)
P.S. Bloggers, I'm now and forever a legal adult. 18 has finally come!


*"Sons of Scotland! I am William Wallace" -Braveheart

Hear me roar.

So I sort of began to tell you about the man whore, Chris, I was hooking up with in the last post. However, after rereading his brief post-appearance, I feel that I should go into a little more detail about him.

We've begun this sort of vicious cycle that college has fueled.
We're very good friends and have a lot of chemistry but with him being a very good looking guy and college girls not being much less than SLUTS, the whole exclusive objective becomes virtually obsolete.

The vicious cycle goes a little something like this:
i) we hang out have some laughs
ii) we start drinking
iii) he hits on me and I deflect any of his attempts with some sarcasm, e.g. "I'm gonna try to kiss you tonight so drink up." "Thats going to take far too much booze to ingest in one night so good luck."
iv) i get drunk and make out with him
v) he leaves me to have sex with someone else
vi) hatred.
vii) he apologizes, we start hanging out again

Really. I allow this shit to happen.
To elaborate..

The other night a bunch of us headed downtown to a karaoke bar I've been dying to check out.
We buy a few rounds of beers and I own the stage with a little Sweet Caroline a la Neil Diamond.
Chris and I go outside for a smoke where he tries to kiss me but I'm not nearly drunk enough to allow that to happen so we head inside and buy another round.

As the night progresses, I'm feeling pretty good so I grab Chris. We both just look at each other and he leans in and kisses me. (just a peck) He turns away and goes back to flirting with the cutest girl to hold his fun-sized attention span.
Suddenly, the cops come in and they make everyone get into single-filed lines.
In case, any of you dismissed the fact that I'm 17, well I am. In other words, totally fucked.
I find Chris and hear his roommate call his name.
He grabs my hand and we start booking it to the back of the bar.
We run through an Employees Only marked door into some back storage room trailing about 15 other runaways.
The bar owners are cheering us on, yelling, "RUN, GUYS, RUN. GO GO GO!" Showing us the light at the end of the tunnel reading "EXIT" in case of a fire.
All of us pile out the bar onto some side street making a clean getaway.

Feeling like I was just apart of something bigger than myself, than a karaoke bar, something more like the underground railroad perhaps, (I was loaded give me a break) I light up a smoke and start doing a victory dance in the middle of the street.

Chris and I start making out on the sidewalk (why not? we just DIDNT get arrested) and my friend picks us up on the next street over.

We get back to our dorm and go up to his room. Shortly there after he leaves to go meet his "fuck-buddy"
I see him the next night over a cigarette outside our building.
I made it quite clear that I wanted nothing more to do with the vicious cycle I'd been allowing on account of sheer convenience and instant satisfaction- But what I hadn't taken into account, until now, was the instant disappointment that always seemed to follow the satisfaction. I'm tired of just allowing things like this to happen. I'm tired of asking, why me? Well, because I let it be me.
No more, folks. Chris might be a babe and a very good kisser but on a college campus, he's a dime a dozen.

He, of course, was very understanding.