Nope nope nope. I’m not meeting his dad, family are off limits, it’s much too early in the relationship to ask such things.
I got the, “But my dad is really great, you’ll love him.”
He got the, “This isn’t fair, you haven’t met my family yet, why do I have to meet yours?”
Yes, I am dramatic and immature and make a weak argument. Why he’s still with me, we’ll never know.
Long story short, he won and my pettiness was shown up.
He proudly introduced me to his dad, and I pathetically laughed at nothing funny and otherwise sat mute. Of the four times I spoke to him, two times I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. The first incident was worse than the second.
After boyfriend left to make us tea, it was just me and boyfriend’s dad. Boyfriend’s brother walked past and I said, “Hey, come sit with us.” His reply was, “I’m just going to put a shirt on.” I responded with, “No! You look great without a shirt, come sit.” All the while, boyfriend’s dad was watching.
The second, albeit not as bad, was finally building up the courage to make conversation with the dad by asking him if he enjoys living in the country that he has been living in for the last ten years. When he said yes, I replied with the most surprised, “Really?” He’s ever heard.
Now you’ll understand why I really didn’t want to meet the parents; not because I was worried that they wouldn’t be nice, but because I knew that I would be a complete disaster.
Good luck to his mom who gets to meet me next week.
“Hey dad, I just quickly wanted to tell you something.”
“Cool Jords, I’m just going to put you on loudspeaker so that Tom (my uncle) can hear too!”
“Oh okay dad. Well, I just wanted to let you know that I have a boyfriend.”
“Awesome, is he nice?”
“Ooh Jordy, our curries are here! We’re going to have to call you back.”
Between the jumping screams of my friends as I make my happy announcement, my parents casual take on the whole situation is a little bizarre, but also a little calming and relieving.
So guys, I guess it’s time that I tell you that I have an actual boyfriend. The dates and sweeties and messages and movie nights have resulted in the official business of an official relationship. Who would have thought?
On a cold Wednesday, a guy set up a projector in the courtyard, moved a couch outside with blankets, beanies, popcorn and yellow M&Ms (I had mentioned how we buy those whenever we go to the movies).
We watched “Eddie the Eagle” and sipped hot cups of tea.
Once the scene closed off the movie and the credits came up, he turned to me and said, “you’re the prettiest girl.” I rolled my eyes and replied, “I think only you think that.”
Then he said, “Jordy. Jordy.” Now he had my attention and I turned myself to look him dead on. “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”
“Are you joking?” And at the shake if his head, I replied with, “Oh. Okay.”
That’s the story. It’s rather anticlimactic after that. We both sat there and were like, ‘cool, guess not much changes now except that people will know.’
It’s been four days of people announcing it in meetings; jumping, screaming friends; heart eye messages when people hear via the grapevine; and the most asked, girly question, “so…. how did it happen?”
I’m still a little overwhelmed at the reactions we get, and sometimes melting into the floor sounds nice, but it’s calming down and the new normal is slowly settling in. Even my housemates have to get use to a new male hanging around, or a housemate not hanging around so much anymore.
After date and Durban shenanigans, I went down to the depths of disease.
During my turbulent two weeks, male came to visit. He offered to make me tea and proceeded to stand in the kitchen cluelessly searching for mugs and milk and tea bags.
I don’t know how he got past my duck slippers and croaky croaky voice, but he called me the next day and declared that homemade soup would for sure take away my coughing, sneezing situation and fix me right up.
It didn’t. But with a lot of stress and worry on his side, he made the soup, asking me if it looked right. (Again, my cooking skills are none- existent so he was totally asking the wrong critic). It was delicious, not lying.
After which he threw blankets on me and tea at me and asked several times if I was really warm enough. When my reply to, “what do you feel like watching?” Was Jurassic Park, he looked pretty confused and after clarifying like five times, he began to look pretty stoked. There were also wine gums that he brought out halfway through the dinosaur- chasing- a- human scene.
Hopefully my next post will have more substance to it. I’m trying to go in order from where I stopped writing, up to now. Unfortunately budding relationships take up a lot of headspace, and I need to remember that I’m the only one who cares about my own one. Sorry guys, when I stop seeing stars, I’ll go back to my old, usual stories.
“Our friends are flying back to England tonight, and they are just desperate to visit the Voortrekker Monument before they leave. You studied history right? Awesome, so I’ve told them that you will go in my place and be their tour guide.”
“Uuuum I really don’t know that much about the monument, I don’t think I’ll be much of a tour guide.”
“Nonsense! You’ll be fine, you probably have more knowledge on it than you think you do.”
While you spent your Tuesday morning reading over reports, calming excitable children down, cooking delicious breakfasts for your customers or whatever else your vocation requires, I was sitting in the backseat of a minibus, frantically googling interesting facts about the Voortrekker Monument.
My girls that I teach, sitting on either side of me, were canning themselves at my expense. Snacks were passed to me on the drive and I absent mindedly, stress- ate them all.
When we eventually got there, everyone turned to me, eight pairs of eyes expectantly waiting to hear where we should head over to first. I three- sixtied on the spot to get a lay of the land and pointed toward the huge building competing with the sun for a space in the sky. “This way first, I guess…”
Questions were asked as soon as we hit the steps and I quickly perfected the, “is she shaking or nodding her head” talent.
I will say that the building is beautiful, the stone is smooth and the views are magnificent. The stairs were many and our legs were shaky afterwards. The planning of the building must have been extensive and it’s safe to say that I, the tour guide, learned almost as much as they did, my tourists.
So many awkward moments of, “I think that could have happened…” and ” we didn’t learn that in history” (although it could have also been that I wasn’t listening in that part of the class).
My girls followed me throughout the day, laughing loudly when I gave an unsure answer and enjoying my red, and growing redder, face.
Moments of called- for blushing seem to follow me wherever I go, but I guess I’m learning how to live in it, embrace it, and share it with you guys- allow you all to laugh at my expense as well. At least the awkwardness isn’t experienced in vain.
But let’s also just say that there may or may not be some lovely British people trawling the streets of England with a warped view of South African history, because of a history student who couldn’t remember her facts.
My housemate thought that we should ask everyone that we came into contact with what their most awkward encounter with the opposite sex was. Just for laughs, and something to talk about when the conversation gets stale. We missioned for a little bit, collecting gold, and some not- so- gold stories.
It doesn’t really come up in too many conversations anymore, I think the momentum died when we went our separate ways for holiday. However, before time sweeps away great stories, and I never share these with you, here are my top two most awkward encounters with the opposite sex:
Many young people in a student town leech off the more fortunate, car- owning students. They sometimes forget that we’re not so fortunate because we have to buy petrol before thinking about food, but all is in the past and I now forgive their ignorance. Their future reality will be revenge enough.
Back to my story. Student boy catching a ride home with fortunate/ not- so- fortunate car- owning student girl. It’s a pleasant car ride, and luckily he doesn’t live too far away from her home, so she’s not nervously checking her petrol tank too often.
Oh wait, before I continue, you need to know that my old, powerless steering wheel- ed, hot gold mag-ed City Golf does not have central locking. So I needed to always make sure all the doors had been manually locked once I was in or getting out of the car.
Ok, continue; She stops outside his home, he turns to face her and thank her for the lift. Without thinking, she notices that the back left passenger door is unlocked, so she reaches over to slide the lock down, only to realize half- way through her conscientious actions that it really looks like she’s pulling in for a kiss. Student boy doesn’t know Student girl very well and his eyes are screaming enough for the both of them. She tries to explain through stuttered words that she was just trying to lock the door, but he’s already standing on the driveway trying to get away from this seemingly over- eager Student girl as quickly as he can. He didn’t ask for another lift after that.
Second story is about a boy who didn’t realize how much girls just adored him. Most times when you saw him, he would be surrounded by small posse’s of eyelash- batting girls. It was funny to see, but not as funny as the fool that I made of myself when trying to say goodbye to him.
As I was leaving one evening, I turned to say goodbye to him and his young fan- club. With too many people to hug farewell, I couldn’t decide what the next best thing was. Do we wave goodbye, or do we high five goodbye? Clearly my brain thought that both were acceptable and merged the wave and the high- five so that the words that came out of my mouth were, “I’m not going to give you a hug, I’m just going to give you a wife.”
Hand in the air, and multiple sets of death- staring eyes on me, I had no more brain power to try explain myself. Instead I just walked away from the group, ashamedly staring down at the ground.
If any of you care to try top my own personal stories, I would love to read about them!