Texting and the art of The Woo

Last night, I received this text from my friend, who for privacy reasons we will call "Sara": The guy I went out with CALLED and LEFT A MESSAGE to ask me out for a second date. Why has this never happened before?

And my immediate response was something along the lines of "Yes. I am also shocked by this gesture and I wholeheartedly approve of his effortful actions." (Sidenote: I just accidentally found out that "effortful" is a word.) and then I was so quickly overcome by the thought "WAIT THIS SHOULD NOT BE A SHOCKING THING" that I was prompted to text her that exact statement around 4am her time because I care.

I know that living in the tiny cell phone-serviceless (not a real word, apparently, but I tried) area that I live in has only reinforced my traditional and seemingly old-fashioned ways, but I think a phone call should not be that weird, especially when it comes to the art of The Woo.

Don't get me wrong, I love texting. I'm hysterical via text and I appreciate it as a medium of communication (I'm a millennial after all), but I think that texting is something one should only really use in certain situations:

  1. With your close friends. Your best friend or other close friends know your tone. They can read your subtle sarcasms. They get you enough to know that when you text things like, "That sounds like a great idea." what you really mean is, "What the actual fuck are you thinking?" After a first date, however, a guy could text me and say "Great time! Want to meet up next week?" and when I respond with a simple "K." I really run the risk that he won't know that what I really mean is "You are super boring and my enthusiasm is the equivalent of this one letter, so no..." See? This is why one should always call.
  2. Quick messages and updates. These include messages such as "I'm running late! Be there in five minutes!" or "The dog just puked in the toilet! Today is amazing!"
  3. When updating your friend about current awkward situations: "This guy on the bus is literally trying to lick his own elbow right now." ...... "Oh God... he just looked at me and smiled." ....... "It's official. This is what I'm attracting: Elbow-licking loners on busses. It's time to reevaluate my life." ..... "Why aren't you responding to me?" ....... "UPDATE: ELBOW-LICKER HAS SWITCHED SEATS AND IS NOW NEXT TO ME. THIS MAY BE THE LAST MESSAGE I EVER SEND. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT I LOVE Y--" .......................... "Really? Nothing? Do you not even care about my safety?" And other things like that until your friend finally responds with "I knew you could get through this on your own, that's why I didn't respond. That and I was in a meeting because I have a real job, so thanks for blowing up my phone and making my boss glare at me. Also, I knew you were lying towards the end because you wouldn't have been able to text me if he really was sitting next to you, so you deserved what you got."

When it comes to The Woo, however, a text just isn't romantic, no matter how many emogis you use. There is something about being able to pick up your phone and hear a guy sound nervous or excited to ask you if you enjoyed your time with him as much as he enjoyed his time with you during that weird debate over the finale of Battlestar Galactica and whether or not Adama and Tigh should have had a parting ways scene (SERIOUSLY, THERE WAS ZERO CLOSURE THERE AND THEY WERE BESTIES). And then you can do that super cute thing where you just keep listening to the voicemail over and over again and being all "D'aww... he likes me..." Like Lorelai and Max Medina. (Yes, I did just made a BSG reference and a Gilmore Girls reference in one paragraph.)

Not to mention, you can be fairly confident that he didn't reach out to  you from the toilet or something. With a text, you just never know.

No. Please tell me this isn't happening already.

A conversation I had with a customer yesterday: Her: Emelie, are you married?

Me: No.

Her: Do you have anyone?

Me: ...no.

Her: Oh... why?

Me: Why am I not married? Um... that's a complica--

Her: --You're just so tall and pretty and smart...

Me: Well... I guess I've just met a lot of really short, ugly, dumb people.

five minutes later...

Her: Maybe you should start going to that New Beginnings group at your church.

Me: ...that's a support group for divorced people...

Her: Oh... well... you never know.  I'm sure they'd let you in.

 

just turned 24. Isn't it a little early to be having this conversation?

I don't think I'm doing this whole "sexting" thing correctly, you guys.

You know when you're in the beginnings of a romantic interest and you do your best to make sure that the other person sees mainly all the wonderful and charming details about you? As far as you and that person are concerned, everything you do is classy and elegant and super attractive. Unless you're me....

A text I sent to my sister on Monday morning: I just dripped coffee on my white shirt.... attempted to clean said coffee with water. Now I have a very visible boob situation. This is my life.

At least... that's the text I meant to send to my sister.

You see, my sister's name happens to be listed in my phone right next to the guy that I really like...the guy that I haven't officially met in person yet because we met online and for various legitimate reasons have not been able to actually be in the same place and the same time... anyway... in my panicked state of dealing with the clusterfuck that is me, I did not, in fact, send my sister that text. The best part? I didn't even notice the embarrassing error of my ways until I found myself in this conversation:

Guy I Like: Lol work is not the right venue for a wet t-shirt contest. You should know these things.

My internal monologue: Oh noooooo.... That is not my sister's name... fuuuuuuuck... Where is the nearest beach? I must go to it and bury my head deep into the sand now... Okay... just go with it. You'll be fine.

My actual response: I've been shunned to the back until I can present myself in a less pornographic manner.

Guy I Like: Good PR Move.

Naturally, in my panic and shame, I texted my best friend, who for legal reasons has intelligently decided to go by the name "John Hamm" on this blog.

John Hamm: BahahahahahaAwkward Sexting

Me: Because I needed to really embarrass myself with this guy eventually, right?

John Hamm: Absolutely. Law of the universe.

Me: I haven't even officially met this guy and I'm already sending him messages about my boobs LIKE A FLOOZY.

John Hamm: In all fairness, you meant to send your flooziness to your sister.

Me: Yes, but he doesn't know that.

John Hamm: Did you explain that to him??

Me: No! We just went with it like it was a totally normal thing for me to send him!

John Hamm: Oh my gosh...

Me: He was all "Work is not the place for a wet t-shirt contest, Emelie" and I was all MORTIFIED.

John Hamm: That's hilarious. You could have simply just been like "For the record..."

Me: Yes, but we both know I don't possess that level of tact.... but I am going to tell him because I have to blog about this.

John Hamm: Yes. Yes you do.

****

In other news, I was featured on The Incredible Adventures of Malleable Mom, which is kind of awesome, so you should go check her out.

AND

There's a new Page Break video, so you should go watch that, too.

Also, this ad is amazing and I feel the need to share it with the world, because Girl Power.

 

I'm Just Saying, I Wouldn't Mind Meeting a Husky Wearing a Fedora.

So, I had this plan, right? I was going to meet my best friend, marry him, and live happily ever after. All of this was supposed to happen by the age of 23. See, the original plan included me bumping into some handsome guy in a college class or in my dorm hall and we'd have some awkward interaction, followed by a series of coincidental meet-ups and hang outs, which then blossomed into something we both couldn't ignore:  Love and obvious sexual chemistry. Stop laughing.

In my defense, I have a family with an uncanny success rate when it comes to love. Two of my siblings married their high school sweethearts, the third sibling met her husband in grad school and never looked back, and my parents, who are still happily married after almost 35 years, were engaged after 5 weeks of knowing each other, despite the fact that they lived on different continents.

So... my expectations were skewed as a child.

Me? I'm in my mid-twenties and I live with my dog on 100 acres of forestry. No husband. No boyfriend to speak of.

You see, Duckies, it turns out that life has this way of kicking your plans in the balls and then walking away without a second thought.

That whole best friend for a husband thing didn't exactly work out, which is fine, because I actually kind of love my life right now. That being said, I'm not exactly hoping it stays exactly as it is. I mean, I still would like to meet SOMEONE.

So, what's a girl who lives in the middle of nowhere to do?

She's gonna fall down the rabbit hole of online dating, Duckies. And she's gonna drag her bestie, "John Hamm," right down with her.

That's right: We went boy shopping. Let's be honest, folks, that's what online dating really is. I sift through profiles like their on the clearance rack at Target: "Ugly... ugly... ugly... oh this is cute... oh, no... way too small*... Nice, but not my style..."

*I'm referring to his HEIGHT. Get your head out of the gutter. 

So last night, after some wine for me and lots of coffee for John Hamm (she's studying for law school finals), we ventured deep into the Internet... and this is what we found (and then shared on Facebook for all of our friends to see... - Hi Mom!):

 

John Hamm's Facebook Status: Late night coffee and helping Emelie boy shop on the Internet. I'm super high on caffeine and judging people.

The comments:

  • MeThere are so many unfortunate people on the Internet.
  • JH: 
  • "Pixie Stick": I mean, that's how I met mine. You'd better start posting hilarious quotes asap.
  • Me: Pixie Stick - so many dead fish.
  • Me"Oooooh.. he's cute. WAIT. 5'7". HARD PASS."
  • JH: "I'm just saying, if he uses the word 'loquacious' in his profile, he's probably a tool."
  • Me: "He owns his own clothing line and has a neck tattoo. Total winner."
  • PS: ... From now on, just assume that I "like" every quote you post. 
  • PS: Oh, I think I know that neck tat/clothing guy ..... wait, maybe there's more than one of them out there. God help us.
  • Me: "This guy started out seeming nerdy and sweet... now that I'm looking at his profile in more detail, I'm realizing he might be a murderer."
  • Me: "Okay, this guy seems like a tool, but he has a Husky and it's wearing a fedora... can I use this site to meet people's dogs?"
  • JH: I just found a guy who looks like a cross between Woody Harrelson and Matthew McConaghey, it's like the cast of True Detective got together and had a baby."
  • Me: "LADIESMAN646 IS LOOKING AT MY PROFILE"
  • JH: I'm thinking about creating a fake profile and just calling it "Catfish" because this site keeps cock-blocking me.
  • Me: Whaaaat? This guy's favorite book is Mansfield Park?
    JH: No. False. No man's favorite book is Mansfield Park
  • Me: He's kind of cute. I mean... I wouldn't kick him out of bed...
    JH: Mostly because that's a rude thing to do.

He-owns-his-own-clothing

IKEA's Match-making Services

So I just had a couch delivered to my apartment. It's a pretty big deal, since I've never actually purchased furniture before. My furniture acquiring skills previously included "Hey! Bring your truck. I just found a mattress on the street and it's super comfortable." The economy sucks and I'm in my twenties, don't judge me.

Anyway, the couch just arrived and it looks like this:

photoImpressive, right?

I'm currently awaiting the most testosterone-filled person I know to show up and help me assemble this in exchange for beer. Call me a shitty feminist, but for those of you who know me, this is the smartest way for me to go about this. Just because I'm female doesn't mean I'm weak, but I am Emelie Samuelson, so I will find a way to screw this up and then I'll end up just sitting on a pile of IKEA cushions with no identifiable structure.

Anyway,  after the couch showed up and I thanked the delivery guys (was I supposed to tip them? I never know how to do that), I got a phone call. It was a lovely and slow-speaking robotic woman asking me if I would be willing to answer a few yes or no questions about my delivery. I've got nothing but time and I'm pretty lonely, so I said yes.

Robot: Did you receive a phone call from the delivery team to say they were on their way? Press 1 for "yes" and 2 for "no."

I pressed 1

Robot: Did the delivery team arrive within the time-frame you were told? Press 1 for "yes" and 2 for "no."

I pressed 1

Robot: Did you like the appearance of your delivery team? Press 1 for "yes" and 2 for "no."

Me: Um... What? Did I like the appearance of my delivery team? Are you asking me if I thought they were hot? I mean... not really, but they didn't scare me or anything... so.... sure?

Robot: Would you invite the delivery team back to your home? Press 1 for "yes" and 2 for "no."

Me: Excuse me?! I barely know them! I mean, sure I let them in this one time, but they had a couch! My couch, in fact! I'm not exactly ready to ask them to stay for dinner. What are you even saying, IKEA robot? Do my give off that strong of a vibe of loneliness? I did not agree to a match-making service when I asked for this couch. Was I supposed to invite these guys to stay? You know what, whatever, sure. They seemed nice. I'll just press 1. Send 'em on over.

Robot: Did the package arrive to you undamaged? Press 1 for "yes" and 2 for "no."

I pressed 1.

 

And then the Internet happened.

I was skyping with my dear friend Pixie Stick last night, and she was telling me about how she went on a date with a guy she met online. Me: Wow, really? You're doing the whole internet dating thing now?

Pixie Stick: Well, Emelie... I was home and a little drunk the other night and I thought "Why not?"

Me: Interesting... which site?

She told me and I went onto the site to check out her selection, and that's when I discovered why the Internet is a wonderful and scary place... yet again. I ended up writing down mine and Pixie Stick's greatest comments while window shopping for men (the way that God intended it.) Enjoy!:

hikingecard

"Who are these people and why would he choose a picture of himself with a dead fish?"

"Oh, here's another one of a guy with a dead fish!!! Except this guy is hot."

"Oh my gawd that fish is HUGE."

""I don't think anyone can beat this 'fix-it' guy... He looks like a Norse god who wandered down from the mountains and into the pizzeria."

"See? It's cool when you do internet dating with somebody else, but it's weird when you do it alone... Like... sex."

"Oh no, another dead fish! Except it's a child!" ... "Wait....WHAT?"

"Wait!! He was kidnapped in Amsterdam by the Romanian mafia!!"

"Well.. now the internet will think I am a lesbian."

"I feel better now that I know he's the mascot and not the guy with the boner."

"His career is science!!"

"What is that, a selfie in a mall?"

This guy is in the military... oh but he's only 5'6" ... "He probably has a Napoleon complex"

"This guy is wearing a hooters shirt at the beach..."

"This is just a picture of David Beckham!" ... "Are you sure it's not actually David Beckham?"

"He looks very surprised that someone photgraphed him v-jaying on his laptop."

"Why is he covered in blood?!?"

 

Because Relationships Need Excitement. Even in Madagascar.

So, my good friend "Jen" is in the Peace Corps and is stationed in Madagascar right now. It's true: I'm not doing anything with my life.

Anyway, we have this awesome app that lets us use a wifi signal to call/text each other, which is insane... because she's in Madagascar and we shouldn't be able to do that (plus, do that have wifi over there? I'm ignorant.)

Not the point. Jen was texting me about her awesome life of teaching people about water sanitation and stuff, when she informed me that she was seeing someone who was also stationed down there.

Me: What?!? Tell me everything!

Jen: He's amazing, but currently working 12 hours away from me, so that's a bummer.

Me: How often do you get to see each other?

Jen: Haha, funny question. So I met him a then we had a week together. Then he went to the moust southern part of the country and is working with an organization down there for a month and then he's being relocated to... well, we don't know where yet because there was literally an axe murderer in his old town so he may be moving close to me soon, but we won't find out until Monday!

Me: Weirdest. Love story. Ever.

So yeah... apparently that's a thing that's totally normal in Madagascar, which was not included in the documentary I saw with all those adorable animated animals voiced by Chris Rock.

So... I feel misled.

I'm a Total Lady Douchebag

It's true, duckies. Yesterday, I was all "I'm totally going to post today" and then guess what I didn't end up doing....

I have a good reason, though! You see, episode 3 of Awkwardly Wonderful Dating Advice was supposed to go up yesterday, but then YouTube was all "NOT YET! YOU NEED TO DO STUFF!!" Unfortunately, I didn't hear this because I was out having drinks with John Hamm who was out of town for the past few days. So, it wasn't until I got home that I realized that YouTube needed me.

So we cuddled for a bit, but by that point it was way past midnight, so I knew I couldn't post then, and now we're here, having this conversation...

Anyway, it's ironic that I act this way this week, since episode 3 is all about lady douchebags. Enjoy!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qCEYbWGKBUI&w=560&h=315]

Don't forget to email us your stories or your favorite dating outfits for next week's episode!! akwardlywonderful@gmail.com

Like us on Facebook!

Follow us on Twitter!!

Subscribe to our channel!!

I'm Back. Your Life Can Resume Now.

Duckies, STOP PANICKING!! I'm alive. I'm really sorry that I took a random, totally unannounced week off from the Internet, but my family came to town, and let me say to all of you mommy bloggers that I have MASSIVE respect for you all. How you manage to write well-crafted blog posts on a regular and frequent basis with small children around is astounding to me now.

My parents' house looked like this for the past week: 9 adults, 4 dogs, and 3 grandchildren all under the age of 5. Life was cray, you guys. Life was cray.

I also sort of hate myself for saying "cray" just now.

Anyway, the week is coming to a close now. Almost everyone has headed back to their homes in different parts of the country and Gio has resorted to sitting under the coffee table and staring at me: gioannoyed

The good news is that even though I never had a moment to sit down this week and type out the wise and thought-provoking blog posts that you all come here for, I did find some time to sit down with my good friend Rachel and crank out the second episode of "Awkwardly Wonderful Dating Advice." Phew!

So, yeah, I'll be back on Wednesday with a real post, but for now, I'll leave you with the latest episode of our romantic wimsy:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q6ODkT0_uPY&w=560&h=315]

It's here! It's here! It's finally here!

Everyone. Awkwardly Wonderful Dating Advice has officially premiered!

I know, I know. You're all "OMG MY DREAMS ARE FINALLY COMING TRUE!" and I'm all "I KNOW, RIGHT?!?!?!"

And that's totally how you should feel, because, let's face it, this is just wonderful!

So, please, watch this first episode, and give us as much feedback as possible. We hope to only get better at this whole thing.

Also, I'm sorry  if my sentences are totally random right now, but wine. And excitement.

Anyway, yay!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fD2AV8xX7W8&w=560&h=315]