The Manic Pixie Dream Girl Who Fell in Love

My name is Celina, and my talent is being a manic pixie dream girl. “What is a manic pixie dream girl?”, you may ask if you hate Zooey Deschanel and/or most popular movies. A manic pixie dream girl is a quirky female character who exists to make a male character realize all of the possibilities in life. Usually a manic pixie dream girl has very little background and is solely in the story to help the male character.

I am apparently a professional manic pixie dream girl at this stage in my life. My quirky personality and lack of substantial relationship baggage make me a perfect MPDG. I frequently trip up the stairs and I love writing poems. I have almost no adult obligations and my work schedule is always few hours at odd times. I always have crazy ideas and laugh like there’s no tomorrow. When I’m on a date or dating someone, I’m hilarious and candidly honest. Yeah, I’m pretty much Zooey Deschanel’s lower paid twin.

However, until recently, I was unaware of my carefree MPDG-ness. I recently got out of  a 3 month long “something” (aka not a relationship from the guy’s perspective). During those three months I was quirky, charming, and even vulnerable. And the boy I was seeing had just gotten out of a relationship, so he was genuinely happy to be hanging out with me. But from the beginning he said he didn’t want a relationship. However, my manic pixie brain told me I could change that, especially after 2 and then 3 months of dating. Turns out the only thing I did was give the guy 3 months of fun with no commitment.

Fast forward to about 2 weeks ago when I met an amazing man. He was perfect – chivalrous, kind, caring, attentive; but he lived in America. Not just anywhere in America, but completely the opposite side of America from my family. However, he was perfect for my MPDG skills; just gone through a breakup, a bit unstable,  questioning life choices – which is all apparently my cup of tea. Don’t get me wrong, this man was amazing. He lives in a place I dreamed of living, his job is steady and something he’s passionate about, and he’s an actual mature man (pretty hard to find). However, even this perfect man couldn’t resist the powers of my MPDG being.

We had a whirlwind weekend romance. I showed him around Paris and he took me out for nice dinners where we bared our souls to each other – mine being bared less, as, like I said, I have less baggage than most. We had coffee and drinks and laughs and tears. We hugged and kissed like there was no tomorrow (because he was leaving that tomorrow). We promised each other we’d meet again, and we proceeded to message each other non stop for a week. Throughout it all though, even as I was falling in love, I could feel that I wasn’t right for his story. That I was not the princess, but the manic pixie dream girl. I might have been his savior, but I didn’t get to be his damsel in distress as well.

And that’s why today, while reading The Cat in the Hat, I started crying. I couldn’t focus on the simple words, “we sat there, we two.” This morning, the most perfect man I’ve ever known broke up with me. After I found flight deals, and made crazy plans to move to his city, and pictured us raising a smart and well behaved cat together. He told me he couldn’t do a relationship right now, but that I gave him hope.

But the thing is, I don’t want to give guys hope. I don’t want to show them that their lives can be different. I just want to love them and be loved. I want a guy to tell me I’m amazing and not put a “but…” after his statement. I want to rock a guy’s life and stay in it, not fade into the rolling credits. I don’t want to be anyone’s manic pixie dream girl anymore.

So maybe I’m lucky that I got to impact someone’s life for the better. I’m sure there’s worse things I could do. But tonight I ordered my MPDG self a pizza and a bottle of wine. And you could say that’s pathetic. You could say that’s like Bridget Jones. You could say it’s both and that I need to find a therapist out here. I’d say you’re probably right on all accounts.  I’d also say I have no idea what I’m doing in life, especially in my love life. But I won’t give up the search for “the one,” because someday, somewhere, there’ll be a guy who doesn’t need me to be chill or ethereal; there’s a guy out there who doesn’t need me at all, but wants me. And I’m sure he’ll pop into my life “when I least expect it,” so please don’t write that in the comments. Also don’t worry, I’m not sitting around waiting for prince charming- I’m living a crazy Parisian life and having a blast. Once I finish this glass of wine and cry a bit more.

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The Date and Dash

If there’s one thing you should know about Paris in July/August it’s that the city is hot hot hot. Because of that, many Parisians take holidays in these months. This has caused my already tiny friend group to dwindle, leaving me to spend a Saturday night alone…or convince a boy to go out with me. I had already used up my Tinder likes for the day (what can I say, lots of cuties that day), so I got back on Bumble and found a guy I didn’t really dig, but who was also bored and alone. He was a clueless just-finished-his-freshman-year-of-uni kid with no good ideas for a hang out place, so I decided to take him to my favorite bar.

This bar is my favorite because it’s hidden from the street, it has a pirate ship, and the security guy is now my friend (you can tell I visit a lot). It’s more of a club/speakeasy than a bar, and that’s what makes it cooler than pretty much any other place in Paris. When bumble boy, let’s call him BB, found out we lived on the same line 2 stops away he suggested we take the train together. I knew this was a bad idea, as it involved us having to make small talk on a train for half an hour, but agreed anyways. As I predicted, the train ride was a train wreck and I didn’t like him, romantically or platonically. He was pretentious without dressing the part and enjoyed bashing America (even though he studies there). We get to the bar and no surprise, he didn’t offer to buy me a drink. If I liked him, this wouldn’t have mattered as much, but this pushed me over the edge into the “I have zero obligation to this kid” mindset.


As we finished our first drink (with me nodding and saying “mmhm” while trying to look even mildly interested), I spotted two guys chatting. I wasn’t sure if they were gay or not, but I didn’t care; the one facing me had a kind face and I knew he’d be willing to help me escape. Throughout my horrid conversation with BB I made scared “help me” eyes at Kind Face Guy, but he didn’t see. As I walked with BB to get another drink I casually swerved and ran to Kind Face Guy asking, “Do you speak English?” too tired of BB’s BS to speak French. Luckily Kind Face Guy lived up to his name. KFG did speak English and thought the situation was hilarious, agreeing to pretend to be my French teacher if BB showed his face again. KFG and his friend, Magic Mike were eager to talk to me, a strange American young lady. Magic Mike proceeded to try and show me magic tricks that I was too tired/tipsy to understand.


KFG bought me a drink, I think because Magic Mike was trying to get us together. Magic Mike would say something in French to KFG and chuckle like a naughty child, so I’m just assuming some of it was about sexing me up. I followed KFG and Magic Mike around for an hour and then suggested I leave (I didn’t want to get in their way of a guy night or some hook ups), but KFG insisted I wasn’t interrupting. The last hour with KFG and Magic Mike was uneventful and involved Magic Mike pretending to like Trump to make me angry, which 100% worked. I added KFG and Magic Mike (who still hasn’t accepted) on Facebook and said goodbye to my one night friends. On the way out I kissed the doorman on both cheeks and walked with a purpose to catch the last metro, satisfied with another crazy night in my faux Parisian life.

Mini Quirky Giveaway!

It’s time for Quirking It Out’s first giveaway – a mini giveaway for my quirky friends and readers! I recently won an Instagram contest and was inspired to start my own giveaway to share the love with you – my friends, whether IRL or virtual. I’m holding a “mini” giveaway because I’m a broke college student, but still want to show love to my readers. I also know that this giveaway might only have two entrants – my friend Courtney (shoutout to this boss friend) and my mom – and that’s okay! However, for every 20 people entered (if we get above 20), I’ll add another surprise to the giveaway, so share with your friends. Or don’t – live your life.

The giveaway includes some heart lollipops, Victoria’s Secret Mints, some nice Katy Perry fake eyelashes (ooh lala, such beauty, much eyes), and a mini journal saying “LOVED” and a tiny Bible verse. Like I said, it’s a mini giveaway, but I hope it will make the winner smile!

This giveaway opens 2/22/16 at 12am and ends 2/29/16 at 12am. It is open to US residents over the age of 18 with a mailing address in the US. It is not affiliated with Instagram, Victoria’s Secret, Katy Perry, or Jesus. This is not sponsored. There will be one winner who I will announce on Twitter, Instagram, and here.

There are a few ways to enter:

  1. Follow me on Twitter @CelinaTTolbert and like the giveaway tweet
  2. Follow me on Instagram @CelinaTTolbert and like the giveaway image
  3. Follow me on WordPress (and comment below with your blog URL)
  4. Tweet about this giveaway and tag me @CelinaTTolbert
  5. Tag friends on my Instagram giveaway image (Please tag friends only once, and no celebrity/spam tags)

You can do one of these or all of them; the more you do, the more chances you have to win! A winner will be randomly picked after the giveaway is closed and will be announced within 24 hours.

My 5th Grade Almost Boyfriend

My fifth grade almost boyfriend sat next to me in the special nerd classes we went to twice a week. He was a whiz kid at math and science, I was slightly above average at language arts and history. He was sporty and I was dramatic. We played basketball in gym class one day and I traveled with the ball, which I thought made us Troy and Gabriella.

One time on a day that we had nerd class, he leaned over to talk to me and sort of put his arm on my chair, which set my fifth grade heart aflutter. After class, his friend told me he liked me. In my mind I was elated – my crush of four years finally notices me! So logically I told his friend that I didn’t like him and that he was gross. I passed him on the track outside later. I don’t really remember our friendship much after that.

Later on he dated a girl from the grade below us and then moved away. I asked if we could be pen pals and wrote him a note confessing my crush, but he never replied. I even messaged him on Facebook quite a few years ago on Facebook. Yes, I know that’s creepy.

I remember clearly that when my fifth grade almost boyfriend’s friend told me he liked me I was scared it was a trick. How could someone who I’d dreamed about for years finally be real, be interested? I don’t think I wanted reality. I just wanted a boy to pine after. I wanted to be able to imagine fantastical situations instead of actually experiencing a possibly disappointing reality.

Even now I often prefer fantasy to reality – who needs practicality? But I’m not in fifth grade anymore, and imaginations aren’t enough. I’m going to live life, no matter how boring or scary it gets. So here goes nothing:

Dear Fifth Grade Almost Boyfriend,

I like you.

Sincerely,

Fifth Grade Celina (who had really bad bangs and Harry Potter glasses)

 

This Room

I’m going to miss this room, this crazy, neurotic room. This room where we’ve eaten, slept, laughed, cried, sat, watched, played, lived. This room is my favorite room of all the rooms I’ve ever been in. This room is home.

I have made some of my favorite memories in this room. This room knows my secrets, and I trust it to keep and remember them all. This room has taken blows. This room has had its ups and downs.

This room has held our loneliness and fears. This room has laughed with us and watched us fill out application after application after application.

This room has helped me make decisions, good and bad. This room has seen us party and mourn. This room bears our scars and holds pieces of us.

But when we leave, this room will go on without us in it. This room will have different inhabitants, perhaps strangers who will become best friends. This room will live on, and so will we.

On Crushes

A friend keeps reminding me that I’m boy crazy. I definitely used to be. I used to wear my heart on my sleeve and have at least one crush per month. I would whisper my secret crush to anyone who would listen because I’m bad at keeping secrets and trusted most people back then. But I’ve learned my lesson. When you tell middle school friends about your crush, they’ll yell it out at the lunch table and you’ll be mocked by said crush in freshmen English.

Crushes tell you they’ll break up with their girlfriend for you, and you think that, first of all, he’s telling the truth, and second that this is how healthy relationships can start. Crushes draw gross pictures of you on the whiteboard. Crushes ignore you, crushes are gay, crushes just straight up don’t like you.

So I don’t have crushes anymore. I haven’t allowed myself to have a crush for quite a while. And life is simple; lonely sometimes, but simple. Sometimes I miss the bountiful hope that came with each new crush, the smiles and whispers and blushes. But most of the time I am happy that the hope I have now is not dependent on whether or not a boy smiles at me.

I have not given up on love, but I have given up on fake love and substitutes for true intimacy. I’d rather have nothing than synthetic puppy love. My next crush will be more than a crush, more than infatuation. My next crush will not be a crush at all, it will be mutual connection on a deeper level. Because crushes aren’t real, so I’ll wait for true love.

Can You Not?

Can you not joke about us being an us? Even if I don’t like him, thinking about me being an us is too much to get my hopes up for. To think that he and I could be a we is so good it hurts.

Can you not say we’d be cute together? I’ve already thought that. I don’t want to think about it anymore, it’s too painful. I’ve thought about us going to events together, how he could ask me with a rose, how he might get down on one knee. But he doesn’t.

Can you not say we both have flaws? You don’t understand. His flaws are earthly, the kind of flaw you can overlook with no problem. My flaws are crazy, intense, the type of flaw you can’t stop looking at. I could probably live with his, but he couldn’t live with mine.

Can you not tease us? It’s so hard to be in a room with someone who verbally says they don’t want to be with me when you suggest it. I laugh it off, because we probably wouldn’t be a good couple anyways, but it kind of sucks. I get it, he doesn’t like me, we’re not meant to be.

Can you not talk about our shared interests? Don’t you know I’ve already imagined us cuddling and watching our favorite movie? I’ve already thought of the possible inside jokes, the road trips with our soundtrack.

Can you not be you? The you that’s sometimes adorable and sometimes naive. Sometimes funny and sometimes overexcited. Sometimes rebellious and sometimes angelic.

Can you pick a side so that i can? Please pick the side that makes me like you less, the side that makes it easy to laugh when she pairs us together. The side that i can make fun of when you’re not there, the side that couldn’t keep up with me. Please stop doing mysterious things that interest me. Please stop liking things i like and being a great guy. Please go back to liking her and being innocent and gentle and young.

Untitled Poem #1

Your hands were small and meek,

but they held my whole world.

Your bones shook when I made you laugh,

even more when you made me laugh.

In that moment, you had complete control over me.

As my breath hitched from laughter, you could have

taken me,

broken me,

loved me,

hated me.

But you didn’t do any of those things.

You just laughed.