Operation "Get-the-Girl"

In the fall of 2004, I thought I was in love. At least, as much in love as a ten-year-old can comprehend (which isn't that deep,) but I was infatuated at any rate. To be honest, back then I didn't care what it was, crush or true love, I just knew I liked her and I wanted her to know it.

     Some people may disagree with this next statement (mostly my sisters would,) but when I was a kid, I was pretty shy. At least, I was shy around girls (some things never change.) As much as I wanted to tell her how I felt, I just couldn't. That's why I thank God for Hope, my sister. Or maybe I should be blaming God for Hope, but that's beside the point. She helped me get over my fear, and eventually tell Erin. . . Sort of. . .

     I am going to preface the entirety of the next several blogs by saying, I am an idiot. Especially at that age (again, some things never change.) With that said, I will proceed in recounting the execution of Operation "Get-the-Girl": A covert operation to. . . Well. . . Get the girl.

     Operation "Get-the-Girl" was over three years in the making. But that was mainly because I was to afraid to put it into action. But thanks to my sister, I eventually did.

     My sister, Hope, is one of my best friends and one of the first people I told about Erin. And then, like any typical older sister, she kept badgering me about when I was going to tell Erin how I felt. I would often say something like, "Oh, I'm just picking my moment," or "Oh, I want to wait until I'm a little older," or "I'm just too friggin' terrified to do that!" To which she would, without fail reply, "If you don't act soon, someone else will!"

      Finally, in the Winter of 2007 when I was thirteen-years-old, Operation "Get-the-girl" took effect. We planned it around Christmas of that year. I would give her a nice gift with a card. In the card I would finally reveal my feelings for her. On paper, it sounds like a good plan. In execution, however, not so much. . .

To Be Continued

People are Dillholes

According to statistics that I made up for this blog post, 98.9% of people are dillholes. The other 1.1% are cats - because we all know cats are people too. At this point, you are probably wondering, "what does this have to do with how you met my ex-girlfriend? Is there some point to this?" Well, as I've said before, around 2004 I developed my first crush on a girl named Erin. I couldn't tell many people because I was afraid that my parents would freak out. But I did tell a few friends. . .

     Unfortunately, I was the first out of my friends to start liking girls. Or at least I was the first to admit it. So after I told my friends, they became what I like to call "dillholes." "What is a dillhole," you ask? According to the urban dictionary a dillhole is: a term often used on That 70's Show. A phrase some person uses to describe another as a: dickhole. Only this is not as vulgar as the word "dickhole." My "friends" liked to make fun of me because I didn't share their view that girls were icky. So, they were dillholes.

     For instance, when I was about 12-years-old, I went out to eat with my sister, +Bailey Mills and her church friends. With them was one of my friends, Matt. I didn't ever see him much and Bailey already knew, so who was he going to tell? So I told him I had a crush on a girl. . . and he couldn't stop laughing. . . all night. . .

     Joe and Caja - my best friends in elementary school - made fun of me saying that Erin was "ugly" or "a girl." The second one was true, but I disagreed with them first one. . . at least I hope the second one was true.

     But eventually this age would end. One by one more and more of my friends would "come out of the closet" and admit that they liked girls - well, that is except Jeremy, but we don't talk about that. It even came to the point where we stopped playing imaginary games about fighting dragons and spent our time just talking about the girls we liked.

     I guess what I am saying is that this blog entry was absolutely pointless and in no way effects the rest of the story. I bet you want your five minutes back, now don't you. . .

Girls Have Cooties

My quest began three months ago when I held my baby niece, the Chunky Monkey Jelly Bean, for the first time. However, that doesn't mean I wasn't chasing girls before that. I crawled out of the womb with a lady on each arm, my first words were, "Hey, ladies. Can I buy you a drink?" and it was rare to find me without my face planted on a boob.

     Well, that wasn't exactly true. In all honesty, I was your average child. I was born like any other child, my first words were probably something like, "momma" or "dada," and like any other child, there was a five to ten year span where I thought girls were icky. Though my face on a boob was pretty accurate (What? I was hungry. . .) Eventually my opinion of girls would mature. That happened at about eight-years-old, but I wouldn't like a specific girl until I was about ten.

     In the Autumn of 2004 I began taking piano lessons from a friend of my mom's. I wasn't the best piano student in the world. As a matter of fact, I was probably the worst she ever had. Not because I was bad at it, not at all - I am a very musical person who can play a wide variety of instruments - it was because I didn't take it seriously. I never practiced or learned anything (seriously, to this day I don't know how to read sheet music) and I thought it was cool to do so. "Why?" you might ask. Because I had a crush on my piano teacher's daughter and I was trying to impress her (a word of advice. Being a jackass is not the way to impress a girl. It doesn't matter how old you are.) Anyway, her name was Erin and, at the time, she was the only thing I could think about. I hated piano lessons and she was the only reason why I enjoyed going to them.

     Up until this point she had just been my best friend. We'd known each other since we were both crawling on all fours. But now she was something more to me. In my ten-year-old head, I thought I was in love. I told almost no one, though everyone probably knew. My sisters knew and some of my friends, but I refused to tell my parents. It was embarrassing to tell them and my mom had said many times, "No dating until you are at least sixteen." Regardless, I thought I was in love, so thus began "Operation Get-a-girl." A covert operation to. . . well. . . get the girl.

I'm The Crazy Uncle Everybody Warns You About. . .

Welcome back to the story of how I met your ex-girlfriend. And what better way is there to continue the story, but by going back to the beginning:

     In the late summer of 1994, I was born. Ever since then I have been chasing after girls. . . Well, maybe that's going back a bit too far. In all actuality, my quest officially began three months ago when something very big impacted the lives of our family. My sister had a baby.

     Let me preface this blog post by saying, I don't like little kids. I hate them more than Red Necks hate Gays. I hate them more than Robin Scherbatsky hates kids (Hey, what did you expect, this is called How I Met Your Ex-Girlfriend, of course I'd make a How I Met Your Mother reference). So it was no surprise that when my sister told me she was pregnant, I was more excited to have the title "Uncle" than to actually be an uncle. She even made me a T-shirt that said "World's Greatest Uncle" on it. As cool as that was, the idea of a little nephew or niece freaked me out. Of course, I was sure I would get used to it and even learn to love my little niece or nephew, but at the time all I could think was, "Gross, my sister had sex."

     My sister +Bailey Mills - author of the Geeky, Artsy, Mommy blog - had her baby daughter in April of 2013. The first time I saw my little niece was the first time I'd seen a human that tiny. It was a moment of disbelief for me. All I could think of when I saw her was, "My sister made that lizard?!"

     About two weeks later I saw little Jelly Bean again and held her for the first time. I was freaked out and looked like a deer in the headlights.                                                                                             

     As scary as it was, it got me thinking. What am I doing with my life? Both my sisters were married by the time they were in there 20's and here I am at 18 and I haven't ever had a girlfriend. All I do is go to work 3 days a week and do nothing on the other days. I don't want to end up a crazy cat dude (even though I would love nothing more than to have a bunch of cats). So I decided that I was going to find a woman. I was officially on my quest to find your ex-girlfriend.

     Don't worry, I did warm up to Jelly Bean a little, but I still get really mad when her mom wipes her drool on my or arm changes her diaper on my bed (I mean really? Pad or no pad, that's disgusting). And that is the story of how my niece sent me on my quest.

How I Met Your Ex-Girlfriend

This is the story of how I met your ex-girlfriend. Well, maybe not your ex-girlfriend, but statistically she is someone's ex-girlfriend. Technically I haven't met her yet, maybe you haven't even met her yet (if so, hands off), or maybe you are dating her right now. I'm going to tell you the story of how I meet my future wife. I don't know how this story ends, I'm just telling it as I go along.

    

     First off, let me give you a little background. I am an eighteen-year-old young man who - up until this point - has never had a girlfriend, nor can get a girl to give me so much as a sideways glance. I hardly blame them, though. I'm not the most attractive person in the world and I'm kind of a dork. I love Star Wars, Lego, video games, and I love Lego Star Wars the video game.

     It's not all on the girls' end though, I am always too afraid to talk to them. If I ever do get up the nerve to say "Hello" to a girl, I am almost immediately "friend zoned." Doubtlessly all you guys know exactly what the dreaded "friend zone" is. Unfortunately it seems like a lot of girls don't know what this is. It is Hell, plain and simple. You've heard the term "have your cake and eat it too"? Well the "friend zone" is the exact opposite. You get to have your cake, but it is just out of arm's reach and you are strapped to your chair. And if she has a boyfriend, it's like watching someone else eat your cake.

     Granted, I have gained a lot of great friends out of being in the "friend zone," but consequently all of my friends and acquaintances are all girls. There is Jess (one of my closest friends and long time neighbor), Katie (Jess' sister), Erin (my childhood best friend and first crush), Kayla (my second crush), Jill (my best friend ever), and Rashaell.

     Maybe one of these girls is your ex-girlfriend, maybe not. Only time will tell. Maybe I haven't met your ex yet. But when I do, you'll know because you'll see it here. I guess what I am trying to say is that every week for the next couple of years (hopefully) I will take you on the journey of how your ex-girlfriend will become my wife. Be prepared, I'm coming...