It's the hap, happiest season of all - Date Diary #.....well, let's just say I've lost count.

Merry Christmas!!!  Or at least it will be very soon.  It's been a while since I've given you all an official date diary. This may not qualify as official, but since Milton and I have had a string of dates lately that don't involve sitting on my couch and watching TV, I thought I'd take this opportunity to tell you about our recent adventures.

Thunder Up!

Unexpectedly, Milton got tickets to the Thunder game last Tuesday.  The Thunder played the Milwaukee Bucks, so the game wasn't expected to be extremely competitive...and it wasn't.  but it was my first live Thunder game of the season, and we had a good time.  Plus, all the Thunder players were finally healed!

Milton picked me up from work, and told me he liked my outfit.  Oddly enough, it was the first time he's really complimented my clothing.  I guess Milton is a fan of blazers.  Before the game we grabbed some pizza at Hideaway.  So good, but pizza is one of those trigger foods for me. It was kind of like giving hydrocodone to a heroin addict complaining of a slight headache.  After the holidays, I'm going to have to seriously get back on the Weight Watcher's bandwagon.

Basketball is one of the few sports I actually understand, along with tennis, gymnastics, and figure skating, so I love going to live games or watching on TV.  I'd never sat in Loud City (the upper decks of the arena), because I'm a spoiled princess whose company has awesome seats that they often give to employees.  I was pleasantly surprised to find the players are still recognizable from that distance. Milton warned me that he can be a pretty intense spectator.  I was prepared for him to rip off his shirt halfway through the game and yell racist things at the refs, but instead he just sat in his seat, holding my hand.  In an ultra-macho show of fanaticism, he did take breaks occasionally to clap his hands or execute a celebratory fist pump.  Geez, Milton.  Calm down.  I can't take him anywhere...

I just have to give Milton a quick shout-out for his end of the night chivalry. When he dropped me back at my car at work at the end of the night, I accidentally left my phone in his car. Being someone who always pays attention to things, he quickly noticed and drove it over to my house, without me having to ask. Which was great, because I was already stressing about how I was going to get ahold of him to get my phone back. My hero!!  How the hell did we get anything done before cell phones?

The Clark Griswold Extravaganza!!

On Friday, we made a double date with some of my friends to drive down to Chickasha and check out Christmas lights.  Milton had been talking about doing this for weeks.  He loves the holidays and all things that have to do with Christmas decorations.  This is my solitary Christmas decoration....so....yeah...

But I was happy to participate in a holiday themed evening with friends.  Milton hadn't met these particular friends before, but it's not like there's anything potentially awkward about spending 4+ hours in the car with people who've just met.  Luckily, my friends are awesome, so we all had a great time!  Milton wanted to take us by a home in Norman that really goes all out for the holidays.  The light display was pretty intense.  Their entire ranch house was decked out, and the lights were timed to a 15-minute Christmas music show on a local radio station.  The whole things was a fundraiser for a local food bank, but upon exiting, I couldn't figure out where to put our donation, so the show was free.  Word of advice to fundraisers everywhere - you have to make the donation bucket accessible or else people like me will give up and just drive away without contributing anything.  After that we were going to get on the road to Chickasha, but it was so foggy and already almost 9pm, so we bailed on the plan.  We did manage to take one picture outside my friend's house:

Here are a few highlights from the evening:

• I learned that Milton is a little picky about his car. I mentioned that I wanted some ice-cream before we left the burger joint where we had dinner.  I added that I'd just get it to go so we wouldn't be any more behind that we already were, which led to the following exchange:
• Milton:  You want to eat in my car?
• Me:  Yeah, but only so I can smear ice-cream all over the windows.
• Milton:  Okay (in a voice that made it clear this was anything but okay). 
• So what did I do, you ask?  I got my ice-cream to go and ate in the car.  I'm 31, not 3 - I can eat in a moving vehicle without incident.  Mostly. 
• We had a lovely, intense discussion about all the ways in which Disney is racist and behind the times.  Almost all the Disney princesses are white, and there are definitely no interracial couples, unless you count Pocahontas and John Smith, which I don't because that was a historical event, not Disney trying to be edgy.  Milton pointed out that they've had a little girl on dog action in Beauty and the Beast, but there's been no guy on guy or girl on girl.  I suppose that's next. 
• This was followed by a debate about the gender of Big Bird from Sesame Street.  The jury is still out. What's not up for debate is that Miss Piggy is the official ass-kicker of the Muppets.
• At the start of our road-trip, I challenged my friend with the task of writing a poem about our adventure.  It was decided that a haiku would be most appropriate (you know, since it doesn't have to rhyme, and it's super short).  But no one delivered, so now I present for your poetry reading pleasure, the following:

Christmas lights to see

big time Chickasha failure

better luck next year

A Kelly Clarkson Concert, AKA, My Company Christmas Party!!!

On Saturday night, Milton and I attended my company Christmas party along with a couple of my friends who love to crash soirees.  There were about 4,500 people there, so it was kind of an event.  Plus, Kelly Clarkson performed.  I've been told, by like everyone, that this kind of company Christmas party is not typical.  I sort of remember the days of going to work Christmas parties where I was happy if I didn't end up with old socks in the dirty Santa gift exchange.  Glad those days are over. 

It was such a fun party and a great excuse to get all dressed up!

Don't know if you can tell, but Kelly Clarkson is singing in the background.

My friend procured all manner of flashing light necklaces and rings for us from the tables scattered around the venue.  She said they made us brave, which must be true, because I actually danced for a bit once the whole event shifted to a nightclub feel.  Milton did not dance, but that doesn't mean he escaped humiliation.  I made Milton pose for some cheesy portraits at some of the many photo booths.  

This one takes me right back to 1994 - our mothers will love it!

Needless to say, the car ride to the party was a lot more chill than the car ride home.  Milton is a good sport.  Not every guy would be interested in escorting 3 super slightly drunk girls home. Actually, on second thought, that sounds like every frat boy's fantasy. 

Meet (the last of) the Parents!!!!

We wrapped up our weekend by having lunch with Milton's dad and stepmom on Sunday. Coincidentally, his stepmom and my mom are both named Jana.  And they are both school teachers. And that's probably where the similarities end, but that's okay. This was the last set of parents I needed to meet.  Milton still hasn't met my parents, so that's a blog post for another day.  We met them at Cheddars in Midwest City, and I'm happy to say everything went very well.  I'd like to think that's because of my sparkling personality, but it probably has more to do with the fact that Milton's stepmom ordered a margarita the size of a baby's bathtub.

I'm sure it's 5 o'clock somewhere...

All about that space, 'bout that space...

Ah, Christmas.....a time to celebrate the birth of Christ, spend time with loved ones, and feel more alone than ever.  I believe Charlie Brown said it best:

I just love everything about a Charlie Brown Christmas.  Charlie Brown spends the whole movie melancholy and sad.  I feel like if he were real, we'd totally hit it off.  

But I already have a boyfriend.  Milton and I have been going out for exactly 70 days, as in 10 weeks, as in 2.5 months.  And in that time, we've been on dozens of dates, L-words have been uttered, and I've weathered no less than 3 major freak-outs.  These were somewhat private freak-outs (well, public now, I guess).  I doubt Milton even really knew they were happening.  If he did, he's either an amazing actor in which case we'll be moving to Hollywood, or he's really just that sweet and patient and knew I'd come around if he just let me work through it.  I'm guessing he had no idea.

Let me explain.  I've been single pretty much my whole life.  I've gone on dates here and there, but nothing compared to the whirlwind of dates I experienced back in September when I started online dating.  By the time Milton and I got together, I was pretty worn out with the whole concept of socialization, and the introverted side of my personality was on interaction overload.  Adding a boyfriend to the mix nearly fried my brain - so much so, I almost broke up with him a week after agreeing to be his girlfriend.  Almost, as in I thought about it hard for like 20 minutes and my mom and sister reminded me I was being crazy.

Part of the issue (and to be clear, this was all my issue) is that I could tell Milton really liked me, like really, really liked me.  I think I was so confused by the fact that someone might actually like me that much that I was trying to figure out what could possibly be wrong with him.  Then I berated myself trying to figure out what was so wrong with me that I can't just accept that a guy likes me.  I was over-thinking everything and sabotaging my ability to just live in the moment.  The butterflies I'd felt initially dissipated so quickly I was beginning to think they were never butterflies in the first place. What if that initial infatuation was really just poorly digested Taco Bell?  Luckily, they were butterflies, but I'd killed them with my own poisonous blend of pessimism and fear.  

To combat my freak-out, I started reading all kinds of internet articles about love and relationships and seeking advice from friends.  If you're ever in a similar situation, don't do this.  It will only create more questions.  The internet is evil.  It lulls you into a false sense of security with its thousands of "helpful" links available at the click of a button that turn out to be a vortex of confusion and contradiction.  There's an endless supply of articles to tell you exactly how you should be feeling in any kind of relationship situation.  There are quizzes to tell you if he loves you, if you love him, if you should even love anybody, or if you're lovable yourself.  There are checklists for what the right guy will say, do, eat, or drink.  There are also checklists for what the wrong guy will have to say about what you say, do, eat, or drink.  None of these are helpful.  And I might point out most of them are written by people with a sketchy track record in relationships themselves.  Just think about it, any moron with an internet connection can write an article and publish it for the whole world to read. Like this blog, for example.  Ditto for friends - everyone wants to be helpful and has the very best of intentions, but since we're all pulling from the same pool of Hollywood romantic comedies, our views of what love should feel like are equally, well, full of crap.

But my analytical brain was thirsty for information that would help me sort through the messy, chaotic chemical response that is love.  I was desperate to put a quantifiable process to the purely qualitative concept of relationships.  It turns out there is no checklist that can tell you if you are in love.  There's no quiz that can adequately tell you if a guy loves you.  Love is a very personal experience.  There's no way to shove all the possible emotions into a one-size-fits-all formula.  You have to assess your relationship purely by what you "feel."  Ugh.  After spending countless years avoiding having emotional responses to anything relationship centered, this has been a bit of a challenge for me.  Imagine a dumber, less Asian love child of Dr. Yang from Grey's Anatomy and Spock from Star Trek.  That's me.  Not exactly girlfriend material, but probably kind of hot.  

Fast forward a few weeks, and a few more freak-outs later, and I've finally deduced that there is nothing wrong with me.  I'm just wired a little differently than most of the girls I know and 100% of the girls in the romantic comedies I used to love.  I need space in relationships - all relationships. This has been an issue in many of my friendships, so I'm not sure why I didn't see this coming with a boyfriend situation.  I even require space from my own family.  If I spend several days in a row around people, I will need at least 1 day completely to myself to ensure I don't lose my freaking mind.  

My pre-boyfriend daily routine was so completely ingrained into my very fiber as a human being. The threads were wound so tight, it's a wonder I could handle any dating at all.  As I tried to incorporate Milton into my evenings and weekends, I was feeling more and more suffocated.  I would try to carve out some alone time, but it made me feel like I was hiding or having to justify what I needed.  About a month ago, (after my last freak-out), I was finally able to have a real conversation with Milton about this issue after a comedy show over Dairy Queen blizzards.  In my opinion, serious discussions should always be accompanied by ice-cream.  The topic came up somewhat naturally, and I was able to really get my feelings out.  he listened intently, as always, and seemed to understand.  Have I mentioned he's pretty great?

Ever since that conversation, I've felt freer in the relationship than I ever would have thought possible.  I haven't needed as much alone time lately, because I know that when I do need it, all I have to do is tell him.  I don't have to hide or come up with a "legitimate" excuse.  I can just be myself.  Ahhhhhhhhhhh (that's the sound of me breathing).

Now the only thing I have to freak-out about is whether he'll like his Christmas present and then what to get him for Valentines.  He liked his birthday present - his birthday happened to be two days after Thanksgiving.  Well played, Milton - start dating a girl right before your birthday so she has to pick out the perfect gift that says, "I like you enough, but not so much that you need to get a restraining order."  I feel like I accomplished that with an assortment of Dallas Cowboys themed items of varying quality and seriousness, but with Christmas around the corner, my victory is short-lived.  It's like the game of picking out the perfect present is never really won.  You just survive until the next holiday.  

With gift-giving in mind, I'll leave you with this final thought:

Glad those days are over.....although tell that to my online dating account.  I shut it down months ago, but they still send me a daily list of matches.  I'm not getting any messages or site activity, so I know my profile isn't active. {not so humble brag} I'll take it as a sign that the Lord wants me to remember how good I have it, as the profile pictures I'm seeing don't inspire any desire in me beyond wanting to make sure my house alarm is set at night.