Every Girl Does It(11)

What I need is to go for a run, but I feel guilty leaving Mrs. Butterworth at home by herself. She gets lonely and cranky, then she isn’t the best guard cat. Therefore, I try to spoil her to keep her on her best behavior. My plan is this: go home, have a relaxing afternoon with my cat, feed her some tuna, then watch a movie. I feel better. The tightness in my chest has subsided, and I finally feel like I can breathe again.

I get home, put on my sweats, and wrap a sweater around Mrs. Butterworth. Her exposed skin leaves her quite cold during the wintertime. Most people wonder what I’m doing with a hairless cat, but the answer is simple. I have allergies so she was the only option. Once you get to know her, the whole hairless aspect fades into the background. Since she can’t stay warm by herself, she cuddles often and has a jet engine purr that sooths my racked nerves. She was actually a gift from my parents when I graduated college. Some kids get cars, others get cool trips or watches. I, however, got a cat. Perhaps it was some sort of hidden message of “well she’s never going to find anyone so we might as well get her a companion”. In which case, it would have been terribly depressing, but I like to think my parents just wanted me to not be so lonely. However, the prospect that my parents might have thought it about me makes me want to defend myself. I’ve been on plenty of dates. Just to prove it, I decide to pull out my journal and write out all the names of my past boyfriends.

There was…

Derek. Psycho, and in love with someone else. Yet I still dated him, and so he remains on the list. Plus he hated Mrs. Butterworth. A guy who hates animals obviously has some unresolved issues.

Tyler, oh Tyler! Yes that’s a good one. I do believe we dated for three months before I found out that he still lived with his parents. Or should I say off of his parents? The fact that his house was huge and that the furniture had a sort of familial feel to it should have been some sort of red flag. I finally clued in when his parents forgot he was taking me to their house and came home from work too early. It was awkward, and it got worse when his overly polite mom asked me to stay for dinner. When I saw his mom actually cut his steak into bite size pieces, then proceed to pat his head like a good boy, I almost threw up. Gross. I feel like crossing his name off. He definitely shouldn’t count.

Jonathan, now there was a keeper. He could sing, he could dance, and he played basketball. He was actually quite a talented athlete. The only issue was the fact he knew he was all of those things. Meaning, I was one of three girls he was dating. He never used my real name, but instead things like “honey" or “sugar”. Eventually I started to piece together the truth. However, revenge is sweet. When I dumped him, I also broke into his email account and sent a forward to all of his friends with an up-close and personal photo of him picking his nose. So what if it was photo-shopped? Only John knew, but nobody believed him.

And that leaves the one guy I actually did like, until the incident.

His name was Bobby. And no, I didn’t meet him on the playground. Bobby was actually pretty cool. We met in college in a freshman English comp class. I fell hard. He had sandy brown hair and dimples. Every girl in my class was in love with him.

One day when we were walking to class, he asked if I liked Swedish fish, to which I enthusiastically replied, “Heck, yes! Do you have any?” I used my flirty voice, I might add. It must have worked, because he told me he’d give me some if I studied with him, which I did.

We dated all the way through to my senior year of college, until on a cold, stormy night he broke things off.

“Amanda,” he said. “I just think we’re in different places. You want to go do fashion stuff, and I’m not saying that it’s un-Christian to like fashion. But I just think that, well, I have a higher calling. I’m going to be a pastor.”

And this is why I’m strong now. I let this boy in, and he ruined my life! He went on to say that not only does he think it is un-Christian to like clothes, but his parents also think I’m materialistic.

Needless to say, I went shopping after that event. Kristin helped me take back all the clothes I bought that day knowing a college student couldn’t afford them. I haven’t seen Bobby since. But I’m guessing he grew out of his stupidity and is now pastoring a thriving church somewhere in the Bible belt. Good riddance.

So that’s it. That’s my list. I decide to uncross Tyler because I should have dated more than four people in my lifetime. There’s no way I’ll count the dates that never went past the first meeting. Plus, it seems like a depressing endeavor to undergo on such a stressful day.

The phone ringing interrupts my thoughts, reeling me back into reality. “Hello?”

“Hi, Amanda, it’s Jane.” Jane is one of my managers at work. She’s stupid; sweet, but stupid. You know the girls that seem to steal brain cells from you just by being in their presence? Her dad is our district manager, so she didn’t have to climb the corporate ladder like everyone else.

“What’s going on?” I ask, trying to sound polite, even though I’m annoyed by the interruption.

She giggles, and I roll my eyes, praying for the phone to disconnect. “Well, I just got the go ahead from Daddy to launch our new local ad campaign.”

“Awesome.” I say dryly. Why is she calling me on a Sunday to tell me this?

“And,” she pauses for dramatic effect, “he also let me pick out the male models. And you know what’s so great, Amanda?”