Bob Steinke

Ghosts of Boyfriends Past By Liz & Lisa

ghosts_of_girlfriends_past The May 1st release of Ghosts of Girlfriends Past got us thinking about how the world is getting smaller and smaller.  Remember the good ol' days when you could just speculate about what all your exes were up to?  Now you can find just about anybody in two clicks on Facebook and, for us, it kind of takes the romance out of it.  I mean, how can we fantasize about the one that got away when we find out that instead of becoming a physical therapist he’s been delivering packages for FedEx for the past ten years?

So, in tribute to what we hope will be a wonderful movie with a happy ending, here are Liz and Lisa's Ghosts of Boyfriends Past... Disclaimer: Dates and certain events have been changed in an effort to protect the identity of our ghosts.

LISA'S GHOSTS

The Husband

I was married once, sort of.

I got a long-term boyfriend practically the second my UGG boots hit the pavement of my college campus. Apparently this guy didn’t mind my unibrow or the twenty-five pounds I packed on as I single-handedly kept Carl’s Jr. in business. Already showing signs of becoming a serial monogamist, (dated the Mullet Man for a year in high school) I jumped at the chance to be in another relationship.

Sure! I’ll give up all opportunities to make out with young, hot, frat boys with rock hard abs and stamina so I can “settle down” at the age of 19!

WTF?

At least my "hubby" had a great body. Well, a great body that, allegedly, he was sharing with others…

According to sources, he may have been doing a lot more than guzzling beer bongs at his fraternity mixers. And although his indiscretions were never confirmed, I did find a wonder bra in his closet once. And panties under his bed that other time. (A fraternity prank, he swore!) Oh, and there was also that day his other girlfriend called.

And even though we could put some Jerry Springer guests to shame with the way we argued, we thought it would be a fantastic idea to move in together!

I even bought a leather chair and matching ottoman. *cue gag sound*

I became the consummate nagging wife. Why weren’t you home right after class? You never do the dishes! You need to stop seeing your other girlfriends!

When it ended, I vowed that it was finally time to be the sorority slut I never got the chance to be! I was free!

Well, until The Egomaniac commanded my attention.

The Egomaniac

It was a short, but loving relationship. Oh so loving.

The egomaniac was incredibly devoted. He really  knew how to love, praise and worship…

Himself.

So when the egomaniac left me, I wasn’t surprised about the person he left me for…

Himself.

After the egomaniac told me he was no longer in love with me and madly in love with himself, I cried…

Tears of joy! (And Bob Steinke danced a jig!)

What a relief! My arms hurt like hell from holding him up on that damn pedestal. I was exhausted! Turns out, it was a good thing I took a year off from dating, because I was going to need all my energy for flying around in Never Never Land.

Peter Pan

It would be so much easier if men told you exactly who they were on the first date. If Peter Pan had done that, our date would have gone something like this:

Peter Pan: “Hi, I’m 35 and I never want to grow up; I play Nintendo during all of my free time; I have a weekly (even if I’m on my death-bed) date, not with you, but with my man-boyfriends; I’m still best friends with all of my ex-girlfriends who, BTW, are all still madly in love with me; Oh, and I have a slight Oedipus complex. So tell me about you…”

Me: “Check please.”

But that’s not how things went down. I found him handsome and charming. He was smart, had a sexy job and was a homeowner. He seemed so grown up and ready to settle down! How did I get so lucky?

Well, I gambled on the wrong man-boy. In my armchair psychologist opinion, he was a textbook commitment-phoebe. He wouldn’t admit to being afraid of commitment, he was just really picky; He kept all his broken-hearted exes at arm’s length (Liz called it his menagerie) just in case. In fact, the framed picture of his most recent ex was still sitting next to his bed until I kindly asked him to take the f***ing thing down!

I finally told Peter Pan our “fairy tale” was over after he freaked out when a drunk, homeless guy slurred that we looked very much in love as we walked by his shopping cart.

Then I bought the guy a forty and gave him twenty bucks for saving my life.

LIZ'S GHOSTS

Wannabe Romeo I met Wannabe Romeo at a training class for my first real job after college.  He chatted me up while I checked in and faster you could say 401K we were completely hammered in the hotel bar. It was a whirlwind week and by the end of it I was convinced I had met someone really special.  Too bad he lived on the other side of the country.  Oh well, right?

Fast forward to three months and three visits later when we made the BRILLIANT decision to move in together.  Because it’s meant to be!  Kismet!  Not only do I have a real job, now I’m going to play house too!  I’ve officially arrived!

Six months later… Um…we don’t have as much in common as we thought.  And I found a girl’s number in his pocket last week.  But I’m sure it will be fine.

Six months after that…  Yeah, I don’t know about this.  Why didn’t he mention his affinity for Medieval swords and his passion for history?  And he’s really friendly with other women, especially my mom. It’s kind of creepy, even though my mom is a total Coug...

Nine months later…  Made the walk of shame out of a party last night after wannabe Romeo almost got his ass kicked last night at a party for fondling someone’s wife.  And I’ve been starting to spend a lot of time with BFF and think about Boy Toy.

Two weeks later…It’s over  The only thing I’m sad about is that I waited so long to leave.  But I’ll be okay.  I’ve got the BFF and Boy Toy to comfort me.

The BFF aka The Safety Net

He was always there for me. I cried on his shoulder about Wannabe Romeo and he helped me move my stuff out of the apartment.  And okay, I guess I knew the BFF wanted to us to be BF/GF. And while there was no one else I’d rather spend time with (except for Boy Toy!)  It just didn’t seem right. And not even his high-paying job, beachfront apartment or super sweet family could change the fact that kissing him felt like kissing my brother. I even tried getting completely smashed and tried again.  Nope, then it just felt like kissing my brother while drunk.  Even a crazy trip to Mexico didn’t bring me on board. I’ve never tried so hard to love someone in my life.

Letting go of The Safety Net was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made.  But I think we both knew it was time for me to take a leap of faith.  Too bad his super sweet family STILL hates me for it!

The Boy Toy

Watching your boyfriend hit on other women constantly can really get a girl down. But I give Boy Toy full credit for putting the swagger back in my step.  Boy Toy was super-easy on the eyes and never said no to a midnight drunk-and-dial. And although he wasn’t going to create cold fusion, he served his purpose well. I didn’t even mind that I had to explain what quirky meant and who Jane Austen was.  I’d never felt so smart and sexy in my life!

But even though our random rendezvous gave me something to look forward to, I soon grew tired of watching Beavis and Butthead incessantly and his inability to be on time.  It was time to say goodbye so I could concentrate on finding a man that understood the difference between your and you’re and could spell Mississippi.  But I’ll always be thankful to Boy Toy for helping me get my groove back.

xoxo

Liz and Lisa

Lisa Steinke Aka Sally Jesse Raphael By Lisa

lisa_teen2 sjr

The year was 1987. Walk Like an Egyptian topped the charts; Ollie North defended his role in Iran-Contra; Platoon won the Academy Award for best picture and Lisa Steinke knowingly and willingly got big, f***ing, honking, red glasses that made her look like Sally Jesse Raphael.

Why the f**k would she do that?

Well, like any good, respectable daughter, I'm going to throw my dad under the bus on this one.

Good ol' Bob Steinke who simply did NOT give a rat's ass about my teenage angst and awkward phases. Bob Steinke, who didn't seem to care that I was struggling with major drama like pads vs. tampons; Sun-In vs. bleach and Corey Haim vs. Corey Feldman.

My dad's only focus was figuring out how to keep his teenage daughter with raging hormones as far away from boys as possible. Hmm...now that I think about it, he definitely didn't encourage anything that would make me LOOK better. Some of his "rules"...

Couldn't date 'til I was 17!

Couldn't get my drivers license 'til I was 18!

Couldn't shave my legs 'til I was 16! (Don't worry--although I clearly wouldn't have known what tweezers were if they'd stabbed me in the freakin' eye, I DID get my mits on a Bic Razor and secretly shaved my hairy ass legs a long time before that.)

So, there I was...15 years old...a freshman in high school and feeling awkward as all hell. My boobs were growing so fast rumors swirled that I got implants; I had questionable fashion sense (even though I still really, really want to believe that my L.A. Gear high tops and matching L.A. Gear jean jacket were in style?!) My hairstyle was, well, a perm. And apparently I had a strange desire to place a barrett on the very top of my head.

Late at night as I'd listen to my Tiffany tape (Could've Been was a personal fav) and cry about my terribly hard life, I'd think, "At least I FINALLY got my braces off!"....

And then I went to the eye doctor and received the news that apparently I was blind as a bat. But there was NO WAY I was going to wear glasses! I was going to get contact lenses instead!

Not.

Not if Bob Steinke had anything to do with it. I was wayyyy too young, irresponsible and immature for those, he said with a satisfied smile on his face.

In front of the optometrist, I screamed that I didn't want to go from "brace face" to "four eyes!" I'd walk into doors and walls before I'd be caught dead in glasses! I didn't need to see the letters E, C, D, F or Z! He was ruining my life!

But dear ol' dad didn't flinch. His answer was an unequivocal NO. And when Bob Steinke said, "NO"-- let's just say he meant it.

So being the fifteen year old "rebel" that I was, I said f**k it, If I'm going to wear glasses, I'm going to wear glasses. I'm going to make a statement!

But it wasn't until I stepped foot on campus the next day, that I put two and two together.

"Hey Sally!"

"I want to be on your talk show!"

"Look--Sally Jesse Raphael goes to Vista High now!"

I ran into the bathroom and stared at my reflection in the mirror.

F**k. I did look like Sally Jesse f***ing Raphael.

And then I remembered what my dad said to me as I stubbornly tried on glasses. "Yes, you should DEFINITELY get the red ones."

I couldn't deny it. The game had a clear winner.

Bob Steinke- 1.

Lisa Steinke- ZERO.