The MELodrama

The best time to blog is when it is lightly raining outside, you have your favorite music playing, and its a Sunday. Oh and I can't forget about kicking your feet up with some strawberry kiwi juice. I don't know what it is about Sundays, but they are the best day of the week, next to Hump day. I on stormy days like these I love to cuddle up with a good book, but since I've finished my Chelsea Handler book and the other one STILL hasn't gotten here, over a month late, I guess blogging it up is going to have to do.

I'm not one to talk about any of the men in my life, but now I've officially gotten rid of the ball and chain I'm ready to make some of you laugh so hard you cant see straight. I promised the gentlemen that they would never go onto my blog until the relationship was over. And to be nice I changed their names.
Contrary to the popular belief I have had my fair share of boyfriends. Many of which did not happen until after graduation. One of my favorite memories with "Tyler" was when he thought it was a great idea to call me in the middle of the night to go drive up the mountains and get lost and stuck in the mud. This is when I learned that he was a little girl and was scared of being alone. He called me and said, "what are you doing?" "Its 12 am I'm out hunting elephants." He was not one of the bigger fans of my sarcasm. "Well, I'm on my way over to come get you, we're heading up the hills and gonna go get lost." "You do realize that I have an 8am Spanish class." "Well you're getting an A in that class so you're good to miss a day or two." "Ty, I'm not missing TWO days to get lost on purpose. I am not about that life, and you are not Bear Gylls." "Mel, we wont be gone two days just a late night drive up the hills. I'm almost there and I have candy corn." He knew my weakness, candy corn and intentionally ditching class. Little did I know this was only the beginning of my nasty habit of not going to class. We drove up the west mountains and we seriously got lost. We could no longer see the Cedar lights and that was the last time we drove somewhere and flipped a coin to see which way we would turn, heads-right tails-left. I had a general idea of where we were, and it was somewhere between lost and stuck in clay mud. Oh don't get me wrong I loved Ty, he always would bring food and always had "emergency" items. These items consisted of large amounts of water, chips, Gatorade, a few blankets, and always had a gun or two and bullets. This could easily scare someone. But I wasn't ever afraid, I seriously trusted the man; any man who packs Gatorade and chips in their emergency kits I could trust. If you have ever gotten yourself stuck in clay mud or even a truck you know how hard and nasty it is to get out of. This poor kid probably could have crapped his pants when he realized how bad the situation was, but I couldn't tell because he was covered in mud. He was freaking out saying that he was going to starve because I ate all the chips on the way up, like the candy corn was going to fill me up! I'm a country girl so I've had mt fair share of muddin' moments so I was knew what to do, but to test him I let him try and figure it out. It wasn't until about 4am when I finally had to step in. I felt bad letting him freak out like that. We took the winch on the front of his truck and tied it around a tree and pulled him out. Yeah, this relationship didn't last very long. I can't be dating a guy who couldn't use his head and didn't enjoy a good mud fight. He seriously walked off and started to pout because I tackled him into the mud, saying it wasn't the time or place. WHERE ELSE DO YOU HAVE A MUD FIGHT?

Sure we've all have dated the city kid. You know the one who was born and raised in a city. Well, Greg thought that moving to cedar city made him a country boy. WRONG, he was always complaining about how small Cedar was and he was constantly telling me that he was going to transfer to St. George. This kid did not own a pair of boots, or have ever ridden a horse. What made me stay with this sweet kid, he was funny. I think I laughed more at him than I laughed with him. I was always good at making him think I was laughing with him. Have you ever met someone who just said things at the wrong time, or just would freak out over the dumbest things. Well this was Greg. He just let the little things get to him. I would tease him and WHAM explosion, and it never helped that I was laughing. See Greg wasn't as witty as I, in fact, he was much much slower. I loved it about him, he would always have the best comebacks but they were about 10-15 minutes later. He couldn't stand that I always had to wear socks everywhere, I would wear shoes everywhere and slides with socks if I was at the lake. I just don't like not knowing if my feet are touching a CLEAN floor. So one day I cleaned his wood floors at his condo. I was on my hands and knees for a few hours and was so satisfied that I got a pedi and walked barefoot all over his place. He walked into his condo, looked around and told me to put whatever I did to his house back, and left. I walked outside to see him sitting in his SUV and told him about my OCD foot problem, and how I mopped his floors. Oh Greg, that sweet guy, grabbed my head in both of his hands and said, "I can't have you cleaning my house, then getting your nasty feet all over the clean floors." He kissed my forehead and then complimented me on my pedicure. He wasn't a very clean guy but I figured he'd appreciate the kind deed, and see that I was wife material down the road sometime. Yeah, he didn't like me putting my bare feet on anything clean, his floor, couch, coffee table, or him. I hadn't realized that he too had a foot OCD problem too. When we broke up he had told me that we were so alike that it was going to be a problem down the road. Yeah like we were so alike, haha I only kept him around cause he liked SVU as much as I did, made me laugh, and knew how to cook. Other than that he kinda was nothing I wanted in a guy.

I haven't had the best of luck with guys, I always end up being that girl that guys come to when they need advice or a place to crash. I have always been the cool girl who lets her "friends" sleep on the apartment's living room couch. I never had a guy sleep over that I was interested in at the time. I only let guys who are 1, too drunk to drive home, and I don't wanna drive; 2, guys that know that I wasn't into hooking up; and 3, if they fall asleep when we're watching movies at night. I've always been known to be the DD or the good friend that lets friends sleep over when they're drunk cause I'll take care of them. Devon was one of those boyfriends that loved to spend nights cause we loved watching movies. He never was there in the morning when I would go wake him up but he always told me that he stayed and folded up the blankets and was kind enough to drink all of  my milk. Once I finally called it off with him he ended up being that "friend" who always needed advice about life and girls. News flash, I'm not a girl whisperer. I hate girls, girls are mean, know how to stir the pot, and are all around bad news. Devon always wanted to know what the big secret to girls was. "We understand each other, and that's why we hate another." He was always asking about date ideas and such. This all while I was single. When he would decide on one of my ideas, I ended up texting her off his phone, calling the restaurants or getting tickets for something. Wow, I am such a good friend. He would even ask me what to wear. Well, if things never worked out he and I both knew that we were deep inside the friend zone, and there was no going back. One time he was out on a date, which I had set up, and while on this dinner date he had ripped a hole in his pants and asked me to go to his house and pick up some boxers and pants. I didn't believe him. I couldn't figure out how he managed to rip a hole through two layers and why I had to deliver them to him. He couldn't have called his roommates or guy friends, no it had to be me. Well he ended up taking her out to a picnic up the mountains and drove on his four wheeler a ways and ripped a hole through both layers when he was sitting on the back letting her drive and fell off sort of. His pants and boxers caught a bungee hook and did a number on him. When I arrived she asked who I was and on accident he introduced me as his "girlfriend." I have never smacked my forehead so hard in my life. His dinner picnic was over before it had started. There was nothing more that I could say after trying to tell her that I was not his girlfriend. He was single by the end of the night. That 2 month "anniversary" dinner with her was their last "monthly anniversary.'' Girls DO NOT have monthly anniversaries. Its annoying. STOP. And if your boyfriends celebrate them and get all giddy about them, dump him, you have a girlfriend and not a boyfriend.