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Throwback Thursday: The 4 Types of Guys

It’s Throwback Thursday again! While last week’s post was pretty mortifying, I’m actually really excited about this post. This is perhaps the only post in the entire series that I remember writing and actually refer to today. As you might recall from previous Throwback posts, the early months of my junior year fall semester were spent trying to pretend I was over my ex-boyfriend. This ‘pretending’ basically consisted of me dating (or trying to date) a lot of different guys in hopes that one of them would be able to fill the void. Basically what I found was that none of them came close to my standards (or they didn’t stick around long enough for me to find out). Anyway, in a momentarily clear moment of thinking, I characterized all guys into 4 categories. So without further adieu, I present to you ‘The Four Types of Guys.”

[Comments by 2012 Susan]

October 23, 2002 9:54 PM

The Crush – The first type of guy is the crush. This guy is in your class, or perhaps a club that you are in or maybe he eats in the dining hall at the same time as you every day. Before class you may share some small talk about the upcoming test, but conversation rarely goes any further. Usually you know very little about this guy other than your common bond. For instance, you may know his major because he’s in a lot of your classes but you don’t know what he does on the weekends, who his friends are or any other details. Since Guy #1s are largely a mystery to girls, girls cannot help but fill in the blanks for the missing information about these guys. For instance, not knowing what these guys actually do on the weekends means it’s safe to assume they’re volunteering as big brothers for underprivileged kids. If they’re absent from class, it’s not because they’re skipping, it’s because it was their week to serve lunch at the homeless shelter. Guy #1s can become very dangerous to get to know because they are never quite the perfect guys you imagined them to be. It’s best to keep guy #1s at a distance.

The Hot Guy At A Party- [okay, I'd like to remind readers that I was a mere 20-years-old when I wrote this. I was still young and immature.  I'm not proud of this characterization. Please know I've matured over the years.] The second type of guy is the physical attraction guy. This is the guy you meet at a party and spend the night flirting with. Maybe you will dance together all night or talk or play darts. As his title implies, he is usually above average looking. While you may talk with him about more things that small talk, the conversation is really just a chance to flirt. No matter how great the night with this guy goes, it rarely leads to anything else. Usually the guy is not looking for anything. It is important to not forget this. If you think about Guy #2′s after the night is over, you will just get hurt. Guy #2s are usually fun to hang out with but they are nothing serious.

The Guy Things Just Click With – Guy #3 is the guy that comes out of nowhere and becomes your boyfriend. Okay so it doesn’t happy that fast, but he’s the guy that everything just clicks with. Maybe you meet at a party or he’s a friend of a friend. From the moment you meet, there is a mutual attraction and you begin to see each other a lot. Eventually you are an item.

The Friend – Guy #4 is the friend. Sometimes he starts out as a Guy #1 or even sometimes a Guy #2. A Guy #4 can also become a Guy #3 but usually he has passed the point where you can be attracted to him. He’s more like a brother than a boyfriend.

IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER: It is important to remember that things can get ugly when Guy #1s becomes Guy #2s. That is to say, you finally see your crush at a party and you work up the nerve to talk to him and he’s yours for the night. This is dangerous because you still have to see him in class on Monday. A lot of girls build up their crushes to be perfect and when they realize they are not, that they are actually just Guy #2s, everything goes a little crazy. Also, once a guy is a #2, there is little chance he will ever become a Guy #3. Guy #2s don’t want to be in a relationship. In summary, it’s best to never try to date Guy #1s or Guys #2s. Both will disappoint you.

It’s best to wait for a Guy #3 to come around.

[I must come clean about something. While I was once very proud of my characterization of these four categories, I must admit I was pretty wrong. While I made it very clear, a girl was not to date a #1 or a #2, I did break my own rule. I dated a #1. It was only a few months after I wrote this post and I was very aware that I was in dangerous territory by agreeing to go on a date with a Guy #1. I just couldn't say no. Good news is, it all worked out. This particular Guy #1 was actually as perfect as I had built him up to be. And two years later, that Guy #1 became my husband. So basically, 2002 Susan didn't really have it as figured as she claimed to.]

What NOT to Sing to Your Child Before Leaving for a Trip.

When I was little, my mom travelled a lot for her job.  Before each trip, she would sing a song to me. I always loved when she would sing me the song, but I’m not going to lie, the song was very confusing. It’s okay, I turned out fine but I almost forgot how confusing the song was until I was recently leaving for a trip away from my kids and went to sing this song. I stopped myself before I finished it, remembering all too well the mixed messages in the song.

So in case any of you travel frequently and are looking for a song to sing to your kids to comfort them, I’m going to suggest you pick something other than Leaving on a Jet Plane. Let’s have a look at the lyrics from the perspective of a four-year-old, shall we?

All my bags are packed, 
I’m ready to go
I’m standing here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye

So far so good.  As a kid, this verse is completely relatable.  My mom often left early in the morning and would tell me the night before that she would already be gone by the time I woke up.

But the dawn is breakin’, 
It’s early morn
The taxi’s waitin’, 
He’s blowin’ his horn
Already I’m so lonesome 
I could die

Again, this part of the song is safe. Of course my mom is lonesome, she’s leaving her baby girl behind. These two  days apart from her perfect little angel will probably be devastating to her.

So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you’ll wait for me
Hold me like you’ll never let me go.

Okay, I’m little confused because I thought I was supposed to be sleeping, you just said you didn’t want to wake me, so how am I supposed to give you a kiss? I guess you decided to go ahead and wake me up?  I’m okay with that. I’ll give you one more hug.

I’m leavin’ on a jet plane
I don’t know when I’ll be back again
Oh, babe, I hate to go.

What? Excuse me? Don’t know when you’ll be back? Last night before bed you said you would be home by dinner time tomorrow. That’s one night. Now you’re telling me you don’t know? Did plans change? How can you not know when you are coming home?

There’s so many times I’ve let you down
So many times I’ve played around
I tell you now, they don’t mean a thing
Every place I go, I’ll think of you

Every song I sing, I’ll sing for you
When I come back, I’ll wear your wedding ring.

Whoa, now. You’re gonna wear my wedding ring? I’m four. Do you realize how long it’s going to be before I have a wedding ring? You really weren’t kidding about that ‘don’t know when I’ll be back again’ part, were you? And why in the world do you want to wear my wedding ring. It’s mine. You have your own. That’s kind of creepy. Plus, do you really think after you just up and left me at age 4, that I’m going to want to share my most prized piece of jewelry with you? What if I don’t want you to wear my ring? Are you saying you just want to borrow it to get a better look at it or are you thinking you’ll wear it forever?

I’m leavin’ on a jet plane
I don’t know when I’ll be back again
Oh, babe, I hate to go.

Now the time has come to leave you
One more time 
Let me kiss you
Then close your eyes, 
I’ll be on my way.

I’m no longer feeling good about this little ‘trip’ of yours mom. You’re getting a little too sappy for a 48-hour business trip. At this point, I’ve pretty much tuned you out. I’m still stuck on the whole wedding ring part. Are we switching rings? If you are wearing mine, do I wear yours? How does this work, exactly?

At age 4, I thought this song was about a mom singing to her little girl. I mean, who else could the ‘babe’ be referring too? And to be fair, Peter, Paul, and Mary was the same group that sang Puff the Magic Dragon, not to mention The Marvolous Toy or any other songs from their Peter, Paul and Mommy album. Their Live Holiday Special was a staple VHS in our house. I had probably watched it 20 times. They were a children’s group as far as my little mind was concerned.  You don’t see the Wiggles recording love songs do you? Stick to a genre folks.

So there you have it. While it’s tempting to start to sing a few lines of Leaving on a Jet Plane while saying goodbye to your kids, don’t do it. Trust me when I say they will be far more confused when they hear that song than they would if you had just stuck to the basic details of your trip and the time you will be back.

You’re welcome.

Throwback Thursday: Meeting (or Almost Meeting) Matt Damon

It’s Throwback Thursday and I’m just going to say it, this is by far the most embarrassing post in this series. I’m going to be honest with you, I didn’t want to post this. I wanted to skip past this one and go right on to the next post. Mainly because this post is ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. But I’ve made a commitment to this series and I feel it only fair to share this with you. So here it goes.  I hope you enjoy it.

[Comments by 2012 Susan]

October 29, 2002  12:23 AM

So today I actually had the following daydream:

I was thinking about the Will and Grace episode last week with Matt Damon. That reminded me of how I missed the episode where Matt Damon hosted SNL. Then I thought how awesome it would have been if he had hosted last Saturday when I was in NYC.

Then I started thinking about what I would say if I met him. And how after talking to me for no more than 3 minutes, he would fall desperately in love with my charm and would ask me to dinner. Then I thought about our dinner and how at the end of the night he would share some long speech about how tonight was the most amazing night he had ever had and he would wait for me to finish school and then he would quit his career to live where ever I wanted and eventually we would get married and start a family [I would like to point out that this was back BEFORE Matt Damon was married with 4 children. So before you call me a home-wrecker, I can assure you that, at the time, he was single or at least appeared single.]

I kid you not. This entire scenario went through my head. By the end I was actually convinced that it could happen and decided I should make more trips to NYC in order to get this dream rolling.

I have problems. I am not going to lie. Sometimes I think my optimism is a bit extreme. It’s one thing to be optimistic and psych yourself out that you can get a date with the cute guy in your class, but it is quite another to think you can get a celebrity to fall in love with you, especially Matt Damon. [For my younger readers who might be most familiar with the "We Bought A Zoo" Matt Damon, I'd like to clarify that this is not the Matt Damon I am referring to. This daydream is about the "Good Will Hunting" Matt Damon.]

Anyway, I just thought I would share this. So when you think you are crazy, just remember this entry and say to yourself “well at least I’m not as messed up as Susan.” Hopefully it will make you feel better. [This statement actually still applies.]

[So there you have it. I would say I am relieved to share this with you, but that would be a lie. It's still just as embarrassing but I hope you have at least enjoyed it.]

Dear 16-year-old Me

I write letters on this blog a lot. I’ve written one to the woman on the escalator, to the bug from my garage, to the class of 2013, to my music teacher, and even a letter to future me. So when I heard about the Dear Me link up that Emily from Chatting at the Sky was doing, I could hardly resist. I’m a little nervous and a little excited because, to be honest, I’m not really sure how this letter is going to go. Here it is, a letter to the 16-year-old me.

Dear 16-year-old me,

Wow! Can I just take a minute to say, you are adorable. I know you don’t believe me. You look at this picture and you hate that your hair is frizzy and your cheeks are rosy. I hate to break it to you, but you’re going to have to just get used to that. I know your older family members have assured you that your rosy cheeks will go away when you get older, but they are wrong. At 30, I’m still dealing with cheeks that turn beat red when embarrassed or cold or hot or sick or, well you get the point. I will say this, eventually this won’t bother you as much. The truth is, at some point you are going to realize how great your skin is and be thankful that you only ever need to deal with the occasional zit or two. No uncontrollable acne for you my dear girl, just rosy cheeks that you will never need to apply blush to. It could be worse.

Can we talk about boys for a second? Here is the thing, I know that 16 has been a good year for you. You’ve had a boyfriend for most of the year and I’m sure you’ve noticed that your self-esteem has elevated because of that. There are days ahead when you will find yourself single and you will question your self worth. Please hear this: your value is not determined by how many boys want to date you. This will be a hard truth for you to learn. You are awesome but you will frequently assume the worst about yourself when you don’t receive the attention you desire from the boys you like. Do you want to know a secret? You aren’t any prettier just because a cute boy says you are. Stop waiting for others to praise you and start finding things to praise on your own. You are far too beautiful (both inside and out) to wait around for some teenage boy to figure that out.

There is another thing I need to bring up. You have some great friends and you will meet some more in the years to come. Years from now, you will still be incredibly close to some of these girls. But it’s not going to be all sunshine and rainbows between here and there. There will be fights and tears and even some times of silence. One word of advice: a little grace goes a long way. You are not as perfect as you proclaim to be. You have not walked in the shoes of these friends you are chastising. In some ways it is admirable that you would risk your friendship to confront someone about their behavior, but you don’t always engage in these conversations with a loving attitude. Self-righteous would be a better way to describe your attitude.

I’m really excited for you. You still have a lot of great things ahead of you. Don’t stress too much about the worries of today. Trust your gut. When something feels wrong, it probably is. You’re a smart girl. Stop doubting yourself so much.

Love,

30-year-old You

Throwback Thursday: Hurts Like Brand New Shoes

After taking a week off, Throwback Thursday is back! Not much introduction needed with this post, so I will just let this post speak for itself.

September 28, 2002
3:51 PM

I just listened to a song by Sade and a line in it is “hurts like brand new shoes.” This line really caught my attention. I was doing homework and had the music on as background noise, but something about that line really struck me. Think about it. Brand new shoes really hurt. This is something everyone has experienced at some point. But the thing about new shoes that hurt is that the hurting can only go away by wearing them more. You can’t wear the shoes once and put them away because they gave you blisters. You have to suck it up and wear the shoes until they don’t give you blisters anymore.

I don’t really know what the rest of the song was about and I am too lazy to play it again in case my theory is wrong, but there has to be a reason Sade choose the simile of brand new shoes to include in the song. There are a lot of things that hurt. For example, touching a hot stove. But once you touch a hot stove you learn not to touch it again. It’s over, you can forget about it.

This is not the case with brand new shoes. Brand new shoes will stay brand new until you wear them in and get used to them. You can’t forget about new shoes. I think this is what the song means. “Hurts like brand new shoes” is saying that there is a pain and it’s not going to go away for awhile. This is the life of the woman in the song. And it sucks because she has to keep going through this life everyday because that is the only way you can make new shoes not hurt, you just have to keep wearing them until the day comes when they don’t hurt anymore.

Side Note: I am in no way relating this to my current outlook on life. I am actually in a pretty good mood but I just really wanted to write about this song because I thought it was really interesting. So don’t worry about me, I am not depressed or anything. :)

I Will Never Forget

I still remember that morning.

My roommate and I did not have any morning classes so at 8:50 we were both still asleep. The phone rang. I listened as my roommate got up, grabbed the phone, mumbled something about it being her mom and answered it. I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. My roommate’s mother calling at 8:50 in the morning was no cause for alarm. It was early in the semester, she was probably still unsure of her daughter’s schedule and wanted to remind her about something before classes started that day.

Seconds into the conversation, I knew this was not a normal call. Wait, what? Susan turn on the TV now! My mom says a plane just flew into the World Trade Center!

As I fumbled for the remote and turned on the news I still recall the innocence of my thoughts. What kind of pilot doesn’t see a large sky scrapper in his flight path? Is there a storm in New York this morning?

Still dazed and a little sleepy, my roommate and I began watching the news coverage trying to reason how a pilot could make such a huge error. Seconds later we watched as a plane flew into the second tower. Still naive, my first thought was that the computerized controls in the airplanes must be messed up. Something must be severely wrong with the air traffic control system to make such a horrific error twice.

It wasn’t until the news anchors mentioned terrorism that it even crossed my mind. At only 19, this was the first major terrorist attack in my adult life. Prior to that day, I would have been hard pressed to give any details about the first attack on the World Trade Center. I had no clue who the Taliban were and had never heard of Osama Bin Laden.

When news that a plane had hit the Pentagon was reported, I feel to my knees in tears. To this day, I’m not sure if I’ve ever been so scared. Unsure of what would happen next, I was very aware that my father was most likely already at work less than five miles away from the Pentagon. As the minutes passed and the news anchors reported on the planes still in the air, I wondered if my family was safe. Hundreds of miles away in upstate New York, there was little I could do to get in touch with them. Phones weren’t working in their area. The best I could do was wait.

I remember watching in disbelief as the two towers fell. I could only imagine all the people that were still trapped inside. My stomach was sick thinking about the number of lives lost in those two buildings. My mind began wonder if things were over. Was the Pennsylvania crash going to be the last one? Would there be bombs sent some other way that would wipe out entire cities like in the movies? Was my family going to be safe?

At some point my mom called to confirm she was alright.

I would be a bit longer before I heard from my dad. When he finally called, he was on his way home. Not knowing when I’d get the chance to talk to him again, I told him to be safe and that I’ll talk to him soon.

As the morning went on, my fellow dorm mates began to gather in my room. Some had been awoken by similar phone calls, others had been in class and knew nothing of it until class let out at 10.

I had only one class that Tuesday. It was a 2 PM politics class. I don’t remember if classes were cancelled that day. If they were, I must have received an email from my professor saying that we were going to meet anyway. We would gather and discuss the events of the day and reflect on what we had heard.

Perhaps I needed a break from the news coverage or I just wanted to hear comfort from an older wiser adult, but I went to my class that day. As we went around the room sharing our reactions to events, I was surprised to find myself crying when it was my turn. I’m not a person who cries in public. Especially not in room full of my peers I had only known for a few weeks. But that day I was crying.

That night our campus held a candlelight vigil. I remember a friend coming over to me and saying “This must have been a scary day for you. Glad your family is okay.” As if reliving it all over again, I began to cry in his arms as I remembered the events of the morning.

That night in bed I reflected on how much my world had changed in just one day. At that time, I had no clue what the future held but I knew it would be different than my past.

It’s been 11 years.

My children know nothing about the events of September 11 and when they learn about it, it will be just another historical event from their history book. Even today’s teenagers are barely old enough to remember. They don’t know of a life before September 11, 2001. They don’t remember a time when those twin towers were a part of the New York city skyline. They have lived their entire lives in a period of war. They don’t remember how much that day changed everything.

But I will never forget.

The First Day of Kindergarten

The morning started like most other mornings. Last night, we picked out his clothes so there would be no stressing over what he wore. After he was dressed, we went downstairs and ate breakfast. If he was nervous, he didn’t show it. While I struggled to have the stomach to finish an English Muffin, I watched as he finished an entire bowl of cereal. This was the kid who could barely finish a mini muffin all summer. The biggest day of his 5 year-old life and he’s eating cereal like it’s no big deal.

My husband and I were, in so many ways, the typical first time kindergarten parents. We had packed his lunch the night before. We showed him all his paperwork in his backpack and told him to remember where it was when his teacher asked for it. We took the classic picture on the front step. We were all set and ready to go at 7:30. The school’s drop-off time wasn’t until 8:15. So we sat and waited.

The drive to the school was filled with anticipation. I kept sneaking glances back to him to gauge his facial expressions. Was he nervous? Excited? Confused as to why his parents have been mushy idiots all morning? Still, his expression was cool and calm. This kid was going to be just fine in Kindergarten.

If you’ve ever been near an elementary school on the first day of school, you’ll know that it’s a mad house. In an effort to stay out of the chaos, my husband dropped my son and I off about a block away and the two of us made the final journey to kindergarten walking hand-in-hand toward the school.

And that’s when it happened.

He tripped.

He fell to his knees still clinging to my hand.

I watched as he tried to keep himself together with all of this 5-year-old strength. His knees hurt. The broken skin and blood was evidence of that. He winced in pain as I rubbed the dirt off his legs.

The brave boy I had watched all morning was suddenly my little baby again. I wanted to pick him up and carry him the rest of the way but I knew I could not. He was in kindergarten now and kindergartners aren’t carried into school by their mothers. He was going to need to walk. And so he did.

As we walked the rest of the way, I was reminded that there are going to be more bumps and scrapes that I won’t be around for. There will be mean words said to him that I won’t be able to keep him from hearing. I cannot protect him from pain for the rest of his life. He will feel much more pain than just a few skinned knees. There will be times when I will want to pull him into my arms and hold him forever. But there will be times when he will need to just keep walking. I will be there to walk with him and hold his hand, but I won’t be able to take the pain away.

On the bright side, my son has the distinction of being the first patient at his school’s clinic for the 2012-2013 school year. He now knows where to go if he’s feeling sick. How many other kindergartners can say that?

Once bandaged up, we walked into the cafeteria to meet his teacher. I found him a seat next to his preschool friend and said good-bye.

Having already survived the skinned knees, I knew he was going to be okay.