The Man Factor

Why in the world would a guy want his ex-girlfriend to use a fake name for him when she posts personal stories about their relationship on the internet for the whole wide world to read? I have no idea. But for the purposes of this blog (and my future book), the Ex-Boyfriend will heretofore be referred to as "Jax", short for Jackson. I like the name "Jax" because it sounds strong and sexy, it's short for a longer name (which makes it inherently cool), and from what I'm told, there used to be an American Gladiator named Jax and that kind of makes me feel like a superstar. And so, Jax it is. The name may be different, but everything else is real.

Jax and I first met in a muddy campsite on a rainy evening in Ojai, California. I was camping with my girlfriends, in anticipation of a music festival at Libbey Bowl the following day, and Jax was camping with his guyfriends, in anticipation of the same music festival at the same Libbey Bowl on the same following day. By the time my girlfiends and I had set up our tents and popped open a bttle of wine, it was POURING down rain and we had yet to start a fire. But not only had we not started a fire, we did not even have any fire WOOD. Air mattresses? Check. Folding chairs? Check. Wine, wine, and more wine? Check, check, and check. Fire wood? No. Rain jackets? No. Tarps? No.

We could hear drums, guitars, and loud voices coming from the outskirts of the campground and we headed in that direction, hoping to meet a kind soul willing to donate extra firewood to our soggy cause. I remember carrying my long skirts in one hand and my sandals in the other; the mud felt good on my bare feet and I kept slipping out of the sandals anyways. We soon discovered that the music and voices were coming from under a huge tarp hung from an oak tree like a giant umbrella. Smiling faces were illuminated by the light of a raging campfire. Perfect!

Jax was playing a large djembe near the fire, his face shiny with sweat and red with a healthy booze-burn. He paused as we approached and smiled as we made our plea for firewood. Laughing at our muddy clothes and dripping wet hair, Jax denied our request for firewood, offering instead that we take a seat around the already well-established fire with his group. Thus, the two groups became one.

Jax and I had a lot in common, not the least of which was a shared interest in travel; over the following weeks and months, we eventually became a couple. I was still in grad school, but I had established my Travel Fund and was faithfully contributing to it every chance I got. Jax had been backpacking through southeast Asia and part of Europe before, and he still had a strong taste of the Travel Bug. We talked about travel a lot and over time, it just made sense that we would travel together.

We saved money separately, but regularly discussed our progress, aiming to save the same amount of money so we could travel together for the same length of time. Jax and I had different Travel Fund Philosophies. He wanted to save as much as possible and spend it all in one big blow-out trip, not returning home until every last penny was spent on the journey. I liked the IDEA of his philosophy, but I was nervous about adopting it as my own. I wanted to keep a little "nest egg" of my Travel Fund aside, so that I'd be able to get an apartment and have a little money in savings when I returned home from the trip.

I eventually did adopt Jax's Travel Fund Philosophy as my own, whole-heartedly and with open arms. Ironically enough, by the time I got over my attachment to the "nest egg" idea, Jax and I were on opposite sides of the globe and we hadn't even seen each other in more than half a year. But I'm getting ahead of myself - I just skipped over two years in less than two sentences!

Don't worry - I'm only going to tell you about the interesting stuff...