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I’ve always prided myself in being the type of person who doesn’t give a shit about what people think of me. Recently I discovered that’s not exactly true anymore.

Case in point: my relationship with FSB(f).

It didn’t work out. Obviously.

Something, something… I was too mean and he was too crazy.

I stopped blogging because during a very heated argument he told me everyone in his life hated me. Umm, and I was the mean one? All snarky comments aside, the old Sarah would’ve said, “Like I give a shit what your friends and family think. It’s only important what MY friends and family think and guess what? They love me, so suck it.”

Sadly, that’s not what happened.

Instead I took it insanely personally and stopped writing altogether. Why? He said his family had taken the time to try to get to know me by reading this blog. Without getting to know me, in person, they decided I was a horrible person who was mean to their son and hated Mormons. Sigh…

Instead of dealing with things, I just stopped writing. It didn’t seem worth the drama at the time and I was hurt.

Well, I’ve moved on and accepted that not everyone will like me and that’s fine. I know I’m better off without his nutty, Mormon family in my life. There’s only room for one nutty, Mormon family in my life and I’m much rather have that family be my family. They’re far superior and their nutty is the good kind of nutty.

What I’m trying to say is I’m back.

Holy shit. I just referred to someone as my boyfriend. Related: will someone please remind me to find a therapist next week to discuss my commitment issues. Thanks.

Moving on…

There is nothing more exciting than experiencing a first with a new boyfriend. You know what I’m talking about… THE FIRST TIME YOU PUBLICLY CALL HIM YOUR BOYFRIEND, the first kiss, the first sleepover, the first ahem (edited for my mother), the first grocery shopping trip, etc.

Actually our first grocery adventure was less exciting and more insightful. I’m dating a man who still drinks Capri-Sun and thinks Otter Pops are a food group. They aren’t. Oh and they never were.

Today we will embark on another first: our first road trip together. We are driving six hours to someplace called Bluff, Utah. Um, yeah. That’s 12 hours in the car together. We’ve only been dating a few months, so the chances of us breaking up are 80-90%. Don’t worry; I let him know to find a back up ride home since I’m driving. Sometimes I’m amazed at how thoughtful I can be.

“Sarah, do you have a computer mouse I can use?”

He looked at me in disbelief as I handed him the only spare mouse. “Um, really? A Hello Kitty mouse?”

“Yes. Cool, right? The AKs brought it back from Japan for me.”

He ignored me, plugged the mouse into his computer and went back to work.

Later that night I changed into something more comfortable than my work clothes. When I walked out of my bedroom wearing the most ridiculous pair of 1970s gym pants he looked at me and with zero sarcasm said, “Sarah, you’re so incredibly beautiful.”

“Thanks, but you have to say that. It’s your job. If you’re going to date me your job is to think I’m pretty, like pugs, Anderson Cooper and pink glitter.”

“No on the pink glitter.”

“Fine. What about Hello Kitty instead?”

“If all Hello Kitty products are as well designed as the computer mouse I think I can do that. The Japanese really took the form of the human hand into consideration with that design. Once you get used to the little bows as buttons, the mouse is very user friendly. Hello Kitty’s face really fits into your hand well. On the scale of one to ten I’d give it a 9.5. It’s purrrr-fect.”

I wish I could tell you he was saying this in jest, but with the exception of the ridiculous pun he was quite serious. Give me a month and this boy will be just as obsessed with Hello Kitty as I am…. or he’ll break up with me and torch every store in Utah that carries HK products.

This week’s “That’s What She Said” talks about my newest dating adventure: a relationship. Something most people handle with ease, but I’m not most people…

This week’s “That’s What She Said” is a result of too much time (and wine) on a Sunday afternoon.

I have doubts about people, and occasionally their sincerity. I wish that weren’t the case, but a previous boyfriend made sure he left me with a little something special. I wanted a ring from Tiffany & Co, but instead I got baggage.

You live. You learn. And apparently you doubt.

Everyone has been burned, so why do I think I’m the only one with a relationship covered cross to bear? Self centered, perhaps. I try not to doubt the people I date, but sometimes it’s easier to assume the worst rather than communicate. I’m all about communication, so the hypocrisy here is likely the reason I’ll be damned to relationship hell, but at least I’ll be warm there.

I’ve operated under the illusion that when the right guy came along this wouldn’t be the case, but that’s a little optimistic… especially for me. So now what? I mean besides a boatload of therapy.

Yesterday I received the third best compliment of my life.

“Sarah, if I was Noah and I had to pick just a few people for the new world, I’d include you.”

Nice right?

Well, of course, I decided to steal it and brand it as my own. I’m going to start telling people if I were Noah I’d never, ever pick them for my ark. In fact, I may even use it in my next breakup.

It’s not you; it’s me. I just can’t picture us on an ark together.

Perfect right?

Speaking of breakups. I recently had one of the most amicable breakups of my life. I’m starting to see a relationship pattern here. I date someone for three months. Month one is spent in complete adoration. Month two is spent picking them apart and month three is spent trying to figure out how to break things off.

Obviously I’m broken, but this was doomed from the start. He was a great guy, but not the great guy for me. We wanted different things in life.

PLUS, he didn’t know me at all, which was obvious when he sent me this text message:

Sarah, I just found something that belongs to you!

It didn’t.

I was so upset he thought I was the kind of girl who would own a cheap, heart print bra. That is not at all Sarah. If I had to have a design on my bra it would be pugs or wine bottles.

Duh.

This week’s “That’s What She Said” is all about floating the river. I’m addicted. The only issue is it’s impossible to get a good tan.

Read this week’s “That’s What She Said” to hear about my current dating adventures. I skipped posting last week’s column because I’m lazy and also because I was off having aforementioned dating adventures. You can catch up here, though fair warning: it’s boring.