So I met a boy last weekend. A hot boy. A hot, tall boy. A hot, tall boy who plays in a hockey league. Swoon? I think so.

We spent hours talking online day after day until he finally asked me out. And then we spent hours talking over burgers and beers. And more beers. When he dropped me off at home, he got out of the car and gave me a cheek-kiss goodbye. “Let’s do this again,” he said.

“Totally,” I casually replied (while butterflies threw a frat party in my belly).

I’m one smitten kitten, and it’s exciting. I haven’t wanted to rip someone’s clothes off like this in a long, long time. But while having a crush is exciting, it’s sending me on an emotional roller coaster ride and I want off. Until Hottie McHockey came along, my life was easy. There were no guys on the horizon so I just went about my life as usual. Now, I’m thinking about him, wondering if he’s thinking about me and if he’s going to ask me out again. Read More »

I recently met someone who made me swoon. He’s tall, funny and incredibly handsome. We have a million things in common and have a great time when we’re together. I feel the butterflies when I’m with him and always look forward to when I’ll see him again. After meeting douchebag after douchebag, this is what I’ve been waiting for and I should be happy.

But I’m not. Because having a crush sucks.

You probably think I’m crazy for thinking this way – I mean, what’s more exciting than having a crush!? – but having my emotions tied to someone else is taking it’s toll on me and I hate it.

Why, you ask? Well, let me break it all down for ya…

I am no longer in control of my own feelings: My days are now dictated by whether her calls me. If I don’t hear from him, I am sad and, as cliche as it sounds, drown my sadness in sweet, fatty treats. Even worse, I take out my frustration on my friends. And if he does call? I skip around my house with a big cheesy grin on my face.

I’m annoying: I talk about him all the time. I vent, I brag, I go on and on and on about this boy, somehow fitting him into every conversation I have. I’m pretty sure my friends (and bosses) hate me.

I’m always waiting: For him to call, for him to ask me out, for him to kiss me.

I have to wear makeup all the time: I can’t let him see me with bags under my eyes or this giant zit on my chin, but putting on makeup every day in the off chance that I may see him is making me crazy. And my Mac foundation is expensive, dammit.

I’m over-analyzing: “What did he mean when he said this?” Or, “I know he has email on his phone; he definitely got my last message! WHY ISN’T HE RESPONDING?”

I can’t do work: When he does call me, I’m so excited that all I can do is think about him and talk to my friends about it. When he doesn’t, I sit around and wonder I did wrong and if I should call him first.

I have to shave my legs: Just in case he decides he wants to take me home and have his way with me.

I sensor myself: No, I don’t change who I am for this boy, but I do try to lay off the swear words/fart jokes/”that’s what she said”s so as not to scare him off. And, let me tell you, that. is. hard.

Crushing has left me tired, cranky and 4 pounds heavier than my single (and ready to mingle) self. I’m about ready to throw in the towel and pick up a kitten or two. Anyone else ever feel this way?