Dating Portlandia: The Comedian

So.

I'm reading this book on attachment. Called 'Attached.' 

It was actually recommended to me by a boy. 

Boys reading books about relationships? Mind blown. 

It was actually really funny when I went to Powell's to buy it.

I went to the information booth just to save time and asked the kid there if they had it. 

Yeah they had it.

"Purple room. Relationships. Self help."

The kid said it three times as he was writing, probably louder than he needed to. 

"Purple room. Relationships. Self help."

Yes I get it. 

You think I'm one of "those girls." 

Those pathetic, lonely, sad, little girls wanting another book on relationships to help her try and solve the mystery of her single life. 

For your information, the book was recommended to me by a man. 

That's right, a MAN. 

With a penis. 

A huge penis, which I experienced. Repeatedly!

So get off my nuts!

I may have overreacted slightly. Thankfully I internalized that explosive rant and demurely smiled and thanked him for his assistance. 

The smug bastard. 

I knew I wanted to read the book because Ireland had brought it up on one of our dates and when he described the traits of a person with anxious attachment I felt like he had cut open my brain and was reading the hard wiring. Yep. 

That sounded like me, alright. 

And leave it to me to have the attachment titled Anxious. 

Because Secure would be way too boring for this vortex of chaos. 

The first chapter describes a relationship between a girl with Anxious attachment dating a guy with Avoidant attachment.

And it's literally exactly my relationship with Sheldon. 

Like draw dropping details. 

It's both comforting and infuriating when you realize your life is so basic it's a chapter in a book. 

A self help book. 

Relationships. 

Purple room. 

I realized that my attraction to Ireland was a repetition of my past. 

Like Sheldon, he too was an Avoidant which is why both men never complimented me. 

Withholding was one of the many ways an Avoidant keeps their distance. 

Why that was so attractive is beyond me. 

Though I think it's much simpler than any psychology: his kisses made my knees wobble. 

And any man whose mouth on mine makes me that dizzy? 

He can pretty much behave however he wants and I'm gonna keep going back for more. 

Because most of the boys in Portlandia don't kiss like that. 

Most. 

But I met another one who does. 

Like most of my first dates I wasn't expecting much. 

There are some that incite a greater level of excitement than others and this kid, the Comedian, made me laugh. 

Any man who can make me laugh with a text I know is going to make me laugh in person. 

And I had subconsciously convinced myself nothing would come of it because even though I brought my hot heel booties in the car I left my flats on. 

I wasn't trying to impress. 

And the date I'd gone on days prior I wore my sexiest little number, peep toe heels to boot. 

Don't ask me why. 

I have no rational reason. 

Except bachelor number one must have made me feel I needed to up my game.

And the comedian made me feel more comfortable. 

Or maybe I was just worried I'd get drunk and slip in my heels in the rain. 

I was myself the whole time. 

I mean, I'm always myself but this time I wasn't mostly myself with a hint of demure self restraint like I normally am. 

I was my balls to the walls full out sassafras self. 

I even admitted to the Comedian that when I heard my neighbor bawling outside my door earlier that day my first thought was, That's really distracting. I'm trying to edit. 

I'm such an asshole. 

But he just laughed and told me how sexy I was. 

And I was glad we were going to another bar. 

Before we left he said he'd be right back.

And for a moment I wondered if he was actually just leaving. 

And I thought what a funny story that would make. 

My date abandoning me. 

Then I remembered how charming and adorable I am and I confidently waited for him to return. 

I looked up and he was standing outside in the rain with an umbrella. 

He'd gone to his car to get an umbrella. How adorable was he? 

Guess that makes two of us.

We got to the next bar and as I set my coat on the bar stool I thought how large the table was and how far away he was going to be when he sat down across from me. 

I looked up and realized he was headed towards me and he scooped me up in a kiss before I knew what was happening. 

And there it was. 

That wobble in my knees. 

Oh. How I'd missed that feeling. 

I was like Juliet when she tells Romeo, "You kiss by the book." 

Though in some translations of the text they say she was actually mocking Romeo so who the fuck knows what Shakespeare was saying anyway. 

I'm saying, the man could kiss. 

Laughter and a knee wobble. 

I was in trouble. 

Then like some silly school girl I waited to hear from him. 

Guys have no idea what goes through our minds when they take forever to contact us after a date. 

Of course, we get overwhelmed if they contact us too much so really men just have to understand that we're crazy and nothing we do makes sense. 

Obviously. 

And they should just know what to do. Because we don't know what we want either. 

So I'm reading my book from the purple room, wondering why he hadn't texted me. 

Hello! Do you not see how fabulous I am! Tell me all about it!

And the book says that if an Anxious person feels unsettled in a relationship situation it takes minimal reassurance from their partner to get them back on track. 

And sure enough, a few pages later, he "liked" one of my stupid "moments" on stupid Tinder and I felt pretty again. 

I'm a fucking chapter in a fucking book.

My whole life is. 

But I still have no idea what's gonna happen. 

And I love that.  

And I can't wait to find out.