At least nervous fidgeting burns calories.

It's customary that when you start dating someone, you should reveal certain things about yourself slowly, so as to keep the mystery and excitement alive. Don't tell him immediately that you once dabbled in glass blowing or that golden showers are kind of your thing. Just when he thinks he knows all there is to know about you, BAM. Pee on his face. These are the kinds of things that keep relationships humming.

I had (non-urine related) things that I was eager to slowly show off to my boyfriend of 3 and a half years and he also had (non-urine related) things to share with me. For instance, he pooped his pants (a tragic result of The Shart) on his first day of the 6th grade just as he made it up the hill to the bus stop. I heard this 2 years into our relationship and it definitely made us stronger.

Right now, at this moment, I'm in a situation where I'm wondering if I should reveal something about myself that will blow the barn door open on his understanding of my neuroses. He knows I'm mostly always either nervous, cold or scared so I'm not sure if I should bring him into this very dark, very inconvenient aspect of my already shaky personality. He's seen me park and re-park my car, wake up in the middle of the night to replace the batteries on the carbon monoxide detector JUST IN CASE and he's seen me steal temporary tow-zone signs so that if I get towed, I can cite the many mistakes on said sign. Do I really want to add one more heaping pile to the batch of crazy he's come to love?

I bought a dress while on Newbury Street in Boston. It is adorable and lovely and I can wear it with tall boots and I really really like it. I tried it on in a small. It fit great. Saw a tear in it. Grabbed another dress with no tear. Paid for it. Brought it home. Excitedly tried it on with said tall boots. It was massive. I had grabbed a large. I feverishly called the store. A very incompetent sounding sales girls said if she could find it, she would hold it for me. IF SHE COULD FIND IT. This is not sitting well with me and it's leaving far too much to chance. I need a plan. I casually ask my boyfriend if he'd like to have dinner in Boston. Now. He says he'll eat in Boston and he'll drive me to the store so I can return my dress. He's understood every facet to my desperate inquiry except for the very important part: NOW.

So I'm reading this blog to him as I write it, hoping he'll see through the comedic nuances and understand my struggle, hurriedly grab his keys, whisk me to his car and speed down Storrow Drive with his hand resting on my knee, assuring me that everything will be okay. Instead, he's eating hummus in his boxers and filling out his tax forms. WHAT THE FUCK. I'm using italics.

So basically, the quandary remains: do I continue to hide under the guise of comedy and nonchalance and hope that this dress will still be there in 2 hours (2 HOURS!!) or do I rush him out the door and risk revealing way too much about what goes on in my neurotic Jewish head?

This blog took me 20 minutes to write. That's how much time it takes for someone else to find, try on and buy a dress. Just think about THAT, because I know I will be for the next 2 HOURS.

A positive update will hopefully follow.

--Kate