You may not have my phone number and here is the reason why.

I was gone for a long time. I know. I'm sorry. I can explain. (Despite what it sounds like, I did not cheat on you.) 

There are two big reasons. The first is the cool one, which is that I was in Finland for nearly a month. It's beautiful there and they have good beer AND good chocolate. Instead of the face-meltingly hot summer you all had here, it was basically in the mid-70s all the time in Finland. Except at 3am when it dropped to, I don't know, 12 degrees? That's fine, though, because the temperature doesn't matter so much on a 3am adventure. The moral here is that despite the fact that I cannot understand Finnish at all it was a fabulous trip. (That started with 24 hours of travel and a missing suitcase and ended with 24 hours of travel.) More on all that later. 

Let's talk about the second reason. The reason I've been laying low for a while. I have a story that I've been dying to tell you basically since the minute it happened. Unfortunately, I couldn't risk the subject of my story catching wind of my existence. I was playing dead, so to speak. But now...it's been a while and also I no longer care if he finds out. It might do him good, actually. 

The Friday before my Finland adventure, I was at a pub crawl with a bunch of friends. We had an awesome time and I was determined not to make any bad choices. (Not...that I've done that...in the past...) So when this cute guy made normal conversation with me, I figured it was acceptable. Let's call him Boy Band. He sought me out at the next two bars, which I also thought was a good sign. He was tall and cute, with a job and the ability to hold a conversation, and didn't spill his drink on me. These are pretty basic standards. I allowed myself to be a bit charmed by him, even though he asked me six times if I liked sushi--I never said the ability to retain information was on my list of standards! When, at the fourth bar, he asked if he could take me out sometime, I figured at the very least I'd have a good story for you guys. So I said yes. I immediately had to follow it with an explanation.
"This is bad timing and will sound like a blow off, but I am leaving the country in four days and will be gone until August. I'll be in Finland. That is not a line and is actually happening." Boy Band seemed to buy it (Probably because of my flawless delivery. Right?) and asked for my number. 

Time. Out. It's important that you know something about me, before I continue to outline my poor choices and the trainwreck that followed. I never give out my phone number. I. Never. Give. Out. My. Phone. Number. It's been approximately 3 years since I gave a man* my number, because they always misuse it! I tell guys they can find me on facebook--yes I am that girl and no, I do not care. Right, back to Boy Band and the Quest for Amanda's Phone Number. (I would probably read that book.)

Boy Band asked for my number, totally unaware of the minefield he was jumping into. I changed the subject a couple times, still debating the merits of this guy. Should I allow him the ability to call? Did I want this to continue? One more gin and tonic later, I decided that I was overdue for a story for my blog. This guy was 34 and I figured he was old enough to use the phone responsibly.** The third time he asked, I agreed. 

MISTAKE. 

A short while after he and his friend left the bar, he called me asking if I got home alright. A nice gesture, even though I was still at the bar with my friends. He asked me if I could let him know when I did get home. I obliged, even though a nice flirty conversation ended with him asking me twice if I would come over. Hi, not so much. He also asked if he could see me that weekend. Sure. Fine. Whatever. 

Considering I hung up with him around 3am, you can imagine my surprise when he texted at NOON. I opened my bleary, eyeliner-smudged eyes to find out he wanted to get together. "Now??" I asked the universe. Not going to happen. I then told him my day was pretty busy--remember, readers, that I was leaving for a month in four days. I kind of had a lot to do, including seeing friends and other people who know my last name.--but that I would text him later when I finished some errands. 

He beat me to it! "Are you back yet?" Oh no. Boy Band, don't do this. Don't be that guy. When I did get back, I ran off to see some friends. I texted him back and instead of doing any kind of acceptable flirting, he spent the next couple hours trying to convince me to leave my friends and come see him. When I didn't reply right away because I was with my friends being social he texted me saying, "You're not interested. I get it." OH MY GOD really? I was feeling suffocated. When I replied, he answered, "I might cry if I don't get to see you. :(" 

Nope. Can't do it. Can't deal with a clingy 34 year old man using the sad face this casually. Can't. Deal. I stopped replying. But I guess Boy Band really was sad because he called me. At 2:30. In the morning. Which I ignored because who calls at 2:30am with good intentions? Nobody. But that's ok, because he called back at 2:34am! WHICH I ALSO IGNORED. 

Normal human beings would stop contacting me. But not this tenacious fellow! He texted me at noon on Sunday--a normal, appropriate hello text which would have been appreciated if he'd not contacted me at all on Saturday. It went ignored. But just in case I missed it, he texted again on Sunday evening to ask when I was leaving. 

THAT. That is why I never give out my phone number. (That is also, I'm certain, why Boy Band is still single.) 



*"A man" in this case means a man I was not already friends with or related to or some other non-romantic circumstance. Those guys are allowed--even though they often misuse the knowledge as well. 

**FORESHADOWING. 

Sex Ed...Sort Of.

There's this new story going around the internet--I'm sure you've seen it. Some 7th grade teacher was encouraging her students to ask honest questions about sex and allowed them to do so anonymously. She put them on a blog and that's where we are now. Everyone's writing about how hilarious they are, these ignorant and ridiculous questions about sex. It's everywhere. 

And I wish it would stop. Sure, from our perspective these questions are funny. Because we're adults. And we've already learned it. We think it's funny to ask what are different kinds of sex because we know the answer. But take a minute and think back to 7th grade. When you didn't know about sex. (Even if you were having it already.) 

In a country where so many schools don't teach about sex (in my school, we learned what the reproductive systems looked like and watched a terrifying video of a woman giving birth...which, in retrospect, was excellent birth control) or teach students to wait to have sex (which of course always works...) and parents are often nervous to have the sex conversation and as a society we're pretty nervous about sex at all...it's no wonder our kids have questions. And if the schools aren't answering them, and the parents aren't answering them, kids either rely on the internet for answers or they ask their friends, who by the way also have no clue. And we all know how reliable the internet is...it's either the self-edited Wikipedia which may or may not have been edited by an equally clueless 7th grader, or WebMD, which is the place to go if you want to be convinced you have some kind of rare cancer or tumor or disease that no one has had in hundreds of years. 

So this teacher found a solution, which had kids asking honest questions. She framed it in a way that made them feel comfortable and she gave them a way to safely ask about stuff. Which is fantastic. Ignorance may be bliss, but it can also be teenage pregnancy or sexually transmitted infections, among other unpleasantries. I applaud her efforts. I wish more young adults had someone they trusted and could turn to when they wanted to know about sex. Or drinking, or anything else that comes up. (I personally had an older brother and sister who were more than willing to not only answer questions but volunteer information. I was lucky. And in the minority.) 

And what do we do? We laugh. We post their queries all over the internet and mock them for their stupidity. Just great. Perfect. What better way to gain their trust, am I right?