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May
25th
Wed
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Two Years with The Wooer

I first met The Wooer two years ago today. This is a representative chronology of the second year of our relationship, as told by Twitter. (Year one, abridged, is here.)

June 2010


The Wooer returns tomorrow from 2 weeks of Army Reserve annual training. Brushing the crumbs out from between the sheets.

SEX: Coming soon.

July 2010


The Wooer sends a WWF update: “We resigned the last game. Also I just played ‘shits’ while on the toilet which pretty much rocks.”

Folding laundry, The Wooer falls to the floor in pain. “What?! Charley horse?”

Nope.

He hit himself in the nuts shaking out a sock.

With a firm hand, he presses me back to the door’s threshold: “This place where I am going, you cannot follow.”

Home, to play Starcraft 2.

August 2010


"Wait. Women get *two* rings?! That’s such bullshit." —The Wooer

The Wooer: “You’re so quiet. I love you.”

September 2010


Two Americans in Italy, Day 2:

The Wooer: “Where’s the light switch in this bathroom?”

"Look above the dick-washer!"

@tcdavis: The Girlfriend: That bathroom cost €0,60 and didn’t have toilet paper. So part of our map is missing. A small part. We didn’t even need it!

Two Americans in Italy, Day 5:

Arrived in Lucca.

Wooer: “Oh man. This is so beat!”

"YOU’RE NOT THE FIRST PERSON TO READ ‘ON THE ROAD.’"

The Wooer: “You dig that tweet, baby!”

Standing beside The Wooer in line, I slip my hand into his back pocket and give a fond squeeze.

"There isn’t any money in there," he offers.

October 2010


The Wooer left behind a sweet note in my apartment for me to find, and it has “blowjob” written all over it.

November 2010


"Leaving for your place soon."

SMS from The Wooer: “Cool. This party is BYOTP BTW.”

"What’re you doing?"

The Wooer [after a few beers; rubbing my hip]: “Nothing provocative! I’m not writing checks my body can’t cash.”

December 2010


"I’m hungry."

"Already?! You’re probably just hungry for dick."

"You’re a dicktritionist now?"

"I worked long and hard for this degree!"

January 2011


For Christmas, I got some books. For cohabitating, I got a Wii, instant Netflix, Amazon Prime, someone to take out the trash, and an Apple TV.

The Wooer made dinner reservations for tonight at a super-nice restaurant, but we already had sex earlier today so the joke’s on him.

Upon rousing, The Wooer typically stretches, then makes his need state known: “I’m horngry!”

February 2011


Morning priorities:

"My tummy’s grumblin’."

The Wooer: “My dick’s grumblin’.”

March 2011


After we ate dinner in front of the TV tonight, The Wooer scratched my back for at least a minute. God I love foreplay.

The Wooer’s developed a habit of ferrying snacks from the kitchen to his office and never returning them. Now seeking breakfast in The Mantry.

April 2011


The Wooer [to the kitten]: “All we ever do anymore is talk about how cute you are! This must be what baby ownership is like.”

"Parenthood."

"*YOU’RE* NOT A HIGH-HANDED, LYING, EMOTIONALLY INACCESSIBLE MAN, ARE YOU?

ARE YOU?!!”

"Quit watching Mad Men."

"Bless you."

The Wooer: “When I sneezed, I also farted, but you didn’t know.”

"…"

May 2011


Casually ordered The Wooer’s mom flowers from him. Smiling coyly. Wearing a bra. Feeling so Joan Holloway.

"Is that tab titled, ‘My Unresolved Issues?’"

Developer: “Yeah. Why?”

"No reason."

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Jun
6th
Sun
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May
25th
Tue
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One Year with The Wooer

I first met The Wooer exactly one year ago today. We’ve been pretty happy together.

This is a representative chronology of our relationship, as told by Twitter:

July - September 2009


The Wooer: “You have a LOT of underwear.”

Me: “Well, I’m a GIRL.”

The Wooer: “I know.

I checked.”

Me: “FINE I’ll make my own eggs… and try not to cry into them.”

The Wooer: “IF YOU DO DON’T SALT THEM.”

The Wooer: “And I left my tennis shoes at your place.

NOW HOW WILL I PLAY TENNIS.”

August 2009


"It’s a one-way street. You know you can park on the
left side too, right?”

"Yeah. I don’t bend that way."

October 2009


The Wooer just dropped me off at a conference, told me to “network,” and to see if “one of the guys” would give me a ride back.

Returned to find The Wooer making vegetarian dinner in my apartment. Suspect he’ll want to play his variation of “hide the salami” later.

November 2009


If we break up, just know you’ll always be third-class. On Southwest. Because you won’t remember to check in for your own flights.

January 2010


The Wooer: [leans in] “Do me a favor. If I fall asleep before we take off, press this [GESTURE] button… so I can lie back while I sleep.”

Day 4, #sftu: “Oh, shit. I forgot to stop at the ATM back there. I need some cashish.”

"Shouldn’t you offer to lend me your coat?" "Did you want to borrow my coat?" "Not anymore."

February 2010


"Look, I’m tired. I’M NOT AT MY WOOEST."

March 2010


The Wooer on the NuvaRing®: “Sublet?! No no. *I* have a lease!”

The Wooer’s sleeping through the part where he takes me out for ice cream. Basically he’s calling me fat.

Me [lying on the floor]: “I dunno; guess I’m feeling a bit useless.”

Wooer [making dinner]: “Who else is gonna hold down the house, baby?!”

April 2010


The Wooer took me to a super-nice restaurant. Everything tastes like imminent BJ.

The Wooer smiles expectantly at me, wearing only a “Make Something People Want” t-shirt and an erection.

Iterate fast and release often.

"… You’re drinking beer before noon."

The Wooer: “You ran out of water.”

May 2010


SMS to The Wooer: “EWWWWW! Just saw a centipede HELP HELP”

"OH GOD SOMEBODY HELP US BOTH"

Chivalric, The Wooer drove me to the ER at 7am. Later he admired the “easy access” hospital gowns & held my boob as I druggedly dozed off.

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May
19th
Wed
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Stop! Missed Connections.

Missed Connections are the young urban professional’s obituary column. At least, I read them—I read other people’s life narratives, that is—with the same grotesque, distanced curiosity with which I read synopses of individual strangers’ newly finite existences.


(But, we all know that works written from a first person perspective, in the present tense, with a touch of the absurd, are most engaging—so I strongly prefer Missed Connections. Especially when hopeful, unrequited lurkers create public dialogues, responding to vague, if inspired, professions of long-lasting love and devotion by inquiring back, “Is your name Jimmy?”).


Distanced curiosity being acknowledged, it would be a little unnatural not to wonder which of the Missed Connections taking place in your familiar haunts could possibly apply to you. After all, you’re fabulous.


So, having eliminated any Missed Connections addressed to notably thin girls, Asians, people jogging/biking/outdoor exercising, cougars/MILFS/married women, and any Missed Connections taking place in wholesale clubs/megastores, the suburbs, or fast food establishments… I find that I am not fabulous, after all.

But I read on, anon.

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Apr
4th
Sun
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Cat in a box.

Cat in a box.

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Mar
25th
Thu
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Information

Not to toot my own horn (oh god! that was punny!) or anything, but I wrote something, (and there’s nothing funny about it).

Shareable: Would You Share Your Car with a Stranger?

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Feb
21st
Sun
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"… I imagined I was drinking coffee elsewhere. Some Arabic-speaking country where the thick coffee served in little cups was so strong it could keep you awake for days."

—ZZ Packer

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Feb
13th
Sat
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where there’s gold there’s a gold digger…

where there’s gold there’s a gold digger…

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Jan
20th
Wed
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This cafe takes down my orders verbatim, I find.

I like that attention to detail.

This cafe takes down my orders verbatim, I find.

I like that attention to detail.

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