Exactly one year ago I wrote my first blog post. It was a very late Sunday night, and I needed to purge the thoughts swirling through my brain to even consider sleep. I still remember the sickening feeling I had in my stomach. What had I signed up for? What did I expect from the matchmaking service? I was nervous, excited and nauseous at the thought of who they would find for me to meet, and more importantly, getting feedback on how to get better at dating. Time is a funny thing. It seems like such a long time ago. If I had been asked in January, I probably wouldn't have said that. I could have recited the calendar dates of the meetings they set up. I could share vivid details of outfits I wore, what I ordered, when there were lulls in the conversation.
Three months ago, I met Jose. It seems like I've known him longer than three months. We've yet to have a lull in a conversation. That doesn't mean one of us is talking every second we're together but our conversations easily flow from one subject to another. We've discussed things as simple as his hatred of hard boiled eggs, my hatred towards the Baltimore Ravens to as serious as combining finances and households. And I'm not freaking out. Neither is he. I know there is still a lot of work and learning and compromise to be done. I'm not foolish to think this will be easy. But we've tackled one situation- the meeting of the family- with flying colors. My parents really liked him, and we enjoyed Easter dinner together. I was more nervous about being late or overcooking the vegetables than what they would think of him. I knew they would get along with him. To meet most of his family, we'd have to travel to Peru. He asked me if I would go with him, and I would. Realistically, that wouldn't happen for at least six months, probably the summer of 2015. Planning something for a year from now doesn't seem crazy.
Things have changed in the past year. I joined Weight Watchers and have lost 40 pounds. I'll be going for a long time because I have more to lose. I started using a Couch to 5K app. I remember when running for 3 minutes felt like torture. My first 5K is in three weeks. And I have more scheduled. The most importance difference from a year ago? I was feeling restless, discontent. My sister would refer to it as my 'tumbleweed' stage. Whatever you call it, it's not there anymore. I'm happy. That's really all I've wanted in life, to be happy. In most movies I watch or books I read, I always root for a happy ending. Call it childish or unrealistic, it's always better if there's a happy ending. Time will tell if I finally found my own happy ending.
Monday, April 21, 2014
Sunday, April 13, 2014
Footloose and timing
We're finally getting true spring (almost summer) weather for more than two days in a row. My dogs are about to OD on fresh air unless they first collapse from sniffing the perimeter of the deck all day long. And I mean all day. I love having the windows open, feeling fresh air. I'd feel better if I got more accomplished, but there will be rainy weekend for that.
Our Senior High put on their musical this weekend. Jose and I went on Saturday to see Footloose and had such a fun night. It was such a great production and I love seeing kids that have grown so much in such a short time. Awkward seventh and eighth graders turn into real people after they leave the junior high. And who doesn't love some nostalgia.
Before the play, I went through my closet to sort out what could be donated and what I could wear. That meant trying almost everything on. I made the mistake of asking Jose to help me. It was comical how we kept having the same conversation. "Is this too big?' He'd tell me it was too casual to wear to school, or it depended on what top I wore with it, or I could wear it to do yard work or could wear it around the house. "OK, but does it look to baggy to wear in front of other people?" Most times the answer was yes, but only after great debate. Then he was giving me advice on keeping some things that were one size bigger, in case I needed them later. I wasn't about to tell me that's not how women work. Pants that don't fit are the best motivation for dieting. And I got rid of all the clothes from years ago that were too small at the time. The reasons are that I knew that if I lost enough weight to fit into them they would be out of style, and more importantly, I deserved new clothes. That's my plan for tomorrow.
As we got ready to head to the high school for the play, I was putting on make up and Jose was changing his clothes. We're chatting about the hockey game, and general things that I can't even remember right now. Probably the dogs. Out of nowhere, he asks if I've thought about what would happen if things would progress between us. Whoa. I knew what he was really asking. Who is moving? Keep in mind, I'm trying to find earrings that match and make sure that I grab the two bronze shoes with heels and buckles, as opposed to the ones that are almost exactly the same except they are black with no buckles. Or the ones that are brown with no buckles. So I dodge this by saying, I have thought about it. And I keep searching for shoes. The conversation continues. At this point, I'm not sure who asked the next question. I tell him I've thought about it and thought about what it would be like to commute. He had a chance to say he's thought about it too. While I'm sure there is some literary term to describe the suspense building, waiting to hear his plans or my views on this important topic. But remember, I'm still digging in my closet for matching shoes. So I suggest that we finish this conversation when we have more time and when I don't have my head in a closet. I'm not sure how to finish that conversation. As I've driven to his house and back, I've imagined what it might be like to commute. It's a full hour. The worse part seems to be the intersection of 222 and 30. Well, really, the worst part would be leaving my house at 6 AM. In. The. Morning. Do you know what time I'd have to get up in the morning? I'd have to be a morning person. Or I'd need a bigger travel mug for coffee. Yes, that is a much more reasonable option. So is that scary for a girl to mention? That I've thought about moving into his house after two and a half months? I wish he had a blog I could stalk. That would make this so much easier.
Our Senior High put on their musical this weekend. Jose and I went on Saturday to see Footloose and had such a fun night. It was such a great production and I love seeing kids that have grown so much in such a short time. Awkward seventh and eighth graders turn into real people after they leave the junior high. And who doesn't love some nostalgia.
Before the play, I went through my closet to sort out what could be donated and what I could wear. That meant trying almost everything on. I made the mistake of asking Jose to help me. It was comical how we kept having the same conversation. "Is this too big?' He'd tell me it was too casual to wear to school, or it depended on what top I wore with it, or I could wear it to do yard work or could wear it around the house. "OK, but does it look to baggy to wear in front of other people?" Most times the answer was yes, but only after great debate. Then he was giving me advice on keeping some things that were one size bigger, in case I needed them later. I wasn't about to tell me that's not how women work. Pants that don't fit are the best motivation for dieting. And I got rid of all the clothes from years ago that were too small at the time. The reasons are that I knew that if I lost enough weight to fit into them they would be out of style, and more importantly, I deserved new clothes. That's my plan for tomorrow.
As we got ready to head to the high school for the play, I was putting on make up and Jose was changing his clothes. We're chatting about the hockey game, and general things that I can't even remember right now. Probably the dogs. Out of nowhere, he asks if I've thought about what would happen if things would progress between us. Whoa. I knew what he was really asking. Who is moving? Keep in mind, I'm trying to find earrings that match and make sure that I grab the two bronze shoes with heels and buckles, as opposed to the ones that are almost exactly the same except they are black with no buckles. Or the ones that are brown with no buckles. So I dodge this by saying, I have thought about it. And I keep searching for shoes. The conversation continues. At this point, I'm not sure who asked the next question. I tell him I've thought about it and thought about what it would be like to commute. He had a chance to say he's thought about it too. While I'm sure there is some literary term to describe the suspense building, waiting to hear his plans or my views on this important topic. But remember, I'm still digging in my closet for matching shoes. So I suggest that we finish this conversation when we have more time and when I don't have my head in a closet. I'm not sure how to finish that conversation. As I've driven to his house and back, I've imagined what it might be like to commute. It's a full hour. The worse part seems to be the intersection of 222 and 30. Well, really, the worst part would be leaving my house at 6 AM. In. The. Morning. Do you know what time I'd have to get up in the morning? I'd have to be a morning person. Or I'd need a bigger travel mug for coffee. Yes, that is a much more reasonable option. So is that scary for a girl to mention? That I've thought about moving into his house after two and a half months? I wish he had a blog I could stalk. That would make this so much easier.
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Almost an Anniversary
I'm approaching the one year I allotted to this dating experiment. My one year is up in 12 days. Within the next week, I'll have to provide a summary of thoughts and insights. I'll just have to find some insight between now and then. I will start with everything is a learning experience. I'm a believer that if you stop learning, you die. More on that later, but for now I'll apply it to how people handle stress.
Stress rears its ugly head in the life of everyone. How a person handles stress is the key. Me? I'm a work hard until I carb-binge, then crawl under the covers and nap until it's over kind of girl. I realize this week (who am I kidding- this month) while working on new eating habits, I'm still working on this. Not so much in the mastery category, especially when the grocery store offered a cruel special on ice cream. Buy a pint of Ben and Jerry's on sale and get a pint of their premium ice cream for free. Danger, danger. It was a cruel and delicious offer. Carrots just don't do it. I've eaten about three pounds of apples a week to no avail. I've reached for a handful of dry cereal on more than one occasion. And it's Kashi cereal, not even yummy cereal. Imagine a handful of puffs, fiber twigs and grain sticks. Nothing soothes like peanut butter on graham crackers. And if you put on enough peanut butter, you can't tell they are low fat grahams. I digress. I'm learning that Jose is a withdraw into a shell kind of guy. Work upheaval has him in turtle mode. I don't even know what the whole story is exactly at this point. I just know he hasn't talked about it. I've asked what would help him. I've asked if he wants to talk about it. I've asked if I should just stop asking questions. So that's the route I'm taking. It's hard for me. I want to nurture, and make it better, and do nice things so he's not thinking about it. We'll see how long this takes. As I've mentioned before, patience is a virtue. Just not one of mine.
Stress rears its ugly head in the life of everyone. How a person handles stress is the key. Me? I'm a work hard until I carb-binge, then crawl under the covers and nap until it's over kind of girl. I realize this week (who am I kidding- this month) while working on new eating habits, I'm still working on this. Not so much in the mastery category, especially when the grocery store offered a cruel special on ice cream. Buy a pint of Ben and Jerry's on sale and get a pint of their premium ice cream for free. Danger, danger. It was a cruel and delicious offer. Carrots just don't do it. I've eaten about three pounds of apples a week to no avail. I've reached for a handful of dry cereal on more than one occasion. And it's Kashi cereal, not even yummy cereal. Imagine a handful of puffs, fiber twigs and grain sticks. Nothing soothes like peanut butter on graham crackers. And if you put on enough peanut butter, you can't tell they are low fat grahams. I digress. I'm learning that Jose is a withdraw into a shell kind of guy. Work upheaval has him in turtle mode. I don't even know what the whole story is exactly at this point. I just know he hasn't talked about it. I've asked what would help him. I've asked if he wants to talk about it. I've asked if I should just stop asking questions. So that's the route I'm taking. It's hard for me. I want to nurture, and make it better, and do nice things so he's not thinking about it. We'll see how long this takes. As I've mentioned before, patience is a virtue. Just not one of mine.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
Ten Days
It was ten days. That's not a long time. I realize this, but it seemed like months. To make things worse, he was traveling with a three hour time difference. So not only didn't I see Jose for ten days but I barely had a chance to talk to him. There was one groggy phone call. It was past midnight and I barely remember what I said. The last thing I remember is him telling me the monorail was there to take him back to his hotel and then he'd call me back. Then my alarm went off. I did use that opportunity wisely. I made mention that I'm sure he was too busy shopping for a present for me to call me back. Let's set this precedent now.
Week night visits are short. It was almost six until I got to his house and since he has the bed time of a child, I left around nine. To spend that amount of time talking, listening and being heard, is incredible. Most of us don't focus on communication that intently. We are emailing while eating a meal, texting while we are finishing a conversation, talking while we are driving. There always seems to be something else going on. Sit down and focus on talking one night. No tv, no music, just people. It was energizing and peaceful all at the same time.
Plans for the weekend are still in the works. I'm really not a fan of driving back to my house late at night. I'm trying really hard at this compromising thing. But I did learn that he is trainable. He brought me chocolate covered macadamia nuts. From Vegas. Not what they are known for and it may have even been an airport purchase. But I am ok with all of that. I just want to start the pattern of buying presents. We're off to a good start.
Week night visits are short. It was almost six until I got to his house and since he has the bed time of a child, I left around nine. To spend that amount of time talking, listening and being heard, is incredible. Most of us don't focus on communication that intently. We are emailing while eating a meal, texting while we are finishing a conversation, talking while we are driving. There always seems to be something else going on. Sit down and focus on talking one night. No tv, no music, just people. It was energizing and peaceful all at the same time.
Plans for the weekend are still in the works. I'm really not a fan of driving back to my house late at night. I'm trying really hard at this compromising thing. But I did learn that he is trainable. He brought me chocolate covered macadamia nuts. From Vegas. Not what they are known for and it may have even been an airport purchase. But I am ok with all of that. I just want to start the pattern of buying presents. We're off to a good start.
Monday, March 31, 2014
The Struggle
This is probably the busiest time of year for me at work. Everything seems to hit at one time, and I feel like I am barely manage to keep my head above water. Actually, right about now, I feel about six inches under the water. I know it will all work out in the end. I know I will get it all done in time. I'm just feeling overwhelmed. And when I'm overwhelmed, I do one of two things. Procrastinate or eat. Which made it very bad timing for a Ben and Jerry's special.
This week I've felt grumpy. Irritable. Annoyed. Yeah, I am a walking picnic to be around. So I'm trying to focus myself and my goals into manageable chunks. I am going to write a lot of little "To Do" lists. I like to keep them on tiny papers so I can throw them away when I'm finished. If you start with a big long list, you have to keep that sucker for ages. A teeny post-it with three things? Bam, it's in the trash in a day. I'm also going to keep positive things in the scope of my week. It's important to have something to look forward to. Like on Tuesday, I will have a piece of chocolate cake with peanut butter icing. It would be rude not to celebrate my brother-in-law's birthday without a piece of cake. I guess I'll have to get bigger post-its. I will now have to include "Go To The Gym" on each one.
This week I've felt grumpy. Irritable. Annoyed. Yeah, I am a walking picnic to be around. So I'm trying to focus myself and my goals into manageable chunks. I am going to write a lot of little "To Do" lists. I like to keep them on tiny papers so I can throw them away when I'm finished. If you start with a big long list, you have to keep that sucker for ages. A teeny post-it with three things? Bam, it's in the trash in a day. I'm also going to keep positive things in the scope of my week. It's important to have something to look forward to. Like on Tuesday, I will have a piece of chocolate cake with peanut butter icing. It would be rude not to celebrate my brother-in-law's birthday without a piece of cake. I guess I'll have to get bigger post-its. I will now have to include "Go To The Gym" on each one.
Thursday, March 27, 2014
Still cranky
Giving the state assessments is not hard. You read the directions. The kids do all the work. Monotonous? Yes. Hard? No. So why do educated adults have to make it so difficult? People get sick and they call in a sub. Sure, that happens. Don't blame me. So when I have to ask someone to fill in, how freaking hard is it to do that? Would it kill you to just say 'ok' instead of bemoaning that they haven't done this before, they aren't sure what to do, or otherwise complaining?? All you do is read the directions. You took a quiz on this. You watched someone do the exact same thing for the past two days. It's the same thing you've watched for the past 10+ years. Are you experiencing a mental break or just being a pain in the ass?
I really should be quarantined during state testing. I am miserable to be around. I try not to spew venom. It's a challenge. I get so pissed I lose the ability to be sarcastic. It's that bad. Luckily, the worst is over. Just in time. I'm starting to annoy myself.
I really should be quarantined during state testing. I am miserable to be around. I try not to spew venom. It's a challenge. I get so pissed I lose the ability to be sarcastic. It's that bad. Luckily, the worst is over. Just in time. I'm starting to annoy myself.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Cranky Teenager
Anyone in education will tell you how ridiculous standardized tests are. We have to take an online quiz to administer them. Seriously? Seriously? Can't I just read the directions in the booklet? Then we get the joy of watching students take the test. For close to three hours each day. We can't look through the book. We can't look at their answers. We can't complete any meaningful work. So I'm hoping to log my 10,000 steps by lunchtime. I have 6,000 and it's only 10 am!
This is enough to make anyone cranky. I'm cranky. It's just not a fun time. And to make it worse, I'm feeling like a whiny teenager. Jose is traveling to Vegas for work from Tuesday until Saturday. Because of the time difference and difference in schedules, I might not even get to talk to him this week. I know this sounds ridiculous. I'm a grown woman. But I'm going to miss him. Even if it's just the chance to bust his ass for something. Or talk to him before he collapses at 8:00 pm (what adult goes to bed this early?). I know he gets up at 4:30 in the morning by choice, but I still think it's unnatural. So I tell him that. Like all ridiculous things, this won't be the end of the world. But I'm still going to complain about it.
This is enough to make anyone cranky. I'm cranky. It's just not a fun time. And to make it worse, I'm feeling like a whiny teenager. Jose is traveling to Vegas for work from Tuesday until Saturday. Because of the time difference and difference in schedules, I might not even get to talk to him this week. I know this sounds ridiculous. I'm a grown woman. But I'm going to miss him. Even if it's just the chance to bust his ass for something. Or talk to him before he collapses at 8:00 pm (what adult goes to bed this early?). I know he gets up at 4:30 in the morning by choice, but I still think it's unnatural. So I tell him that. Like all ridiculous things, this won't be the end of the world. But I'm still going to complain about it.
Monday, March 17, 2014
A milestone
While this might seem unimportant to some, a significant event happened this weekend. Jose let me drive his car. It was only to the car wash, then the tennis courts but it was monumental. His car is his baby. He would rather drive his daughter's car to avoid bad weather and excess miles for his Acura. I had been busting his ass for some time about letting me drive his car. I realized weeks ago that would be the true test. Only when I drove his car would I know that he trusted me. I say that in jest, but only partly. It was fun to mention it, then see him cringe. It gave me the chance to get dramatic and lament that he didn't really care about me, that I wasn't as important as his car, or that he didn't trust me.
I've learned a lot about him through the car buying process. I see cars as purely functional. I want something reliable, durable, safe. There is still a cuteness factor where I want it to look nice and NOT be an avocado green Chevy Nova. Maybe this is a Mars vs. Venus thing. I want the respect of the salesperson. I need that validation and if you call me "honey", I'm not buying a car from you. Cars serve a purpose. I need to get to work, go the grocery store, drive to Target. It is a means to an end.
Cars are a luxury item for Jose. He wants the bells and whistles. I just want it to have a radio. He wants the style and prestige. I want it to start on a cold morning. The design of the dash, the small nuances of engineering changes, the variations of options available- all those things excite him. I like having a cup holder.
While I was car shopping, we wouldn't even be close to a test drive and he was asking about what color it came in. Nice way to play it cool! I was perfectly fine getting info and walking away. He would have signed his name in a heartbeat if you handed him a pen. He felt guilty for the Honda guy when I decided I was getting another Rav4. The only part I felt bad about was that the Honda guy was wearing a herringbone jacket with a vertical stripe shirt and a horizontal stripe tie. I think I got a good deal. That was my goal. Jose wants everyone to be happy.
True confession time: I did get heated seats. I know that negates everything I just wrote about function vs luxury. I try to play it off as a medical need. When you use heated seated, that little bit of warmth helps to avoid lower back stiffness. That sounds like a good story, but really I just like having a butt warmer.
I've learned a lot about him through the car buying process. I see cars as purely functional. I want something reliable, durable, safe. There is still a cuteness factor where I want it to look nice and NOT be an avocado green Chevy Nova. Maybe this is a Mars vs. Venus thing. I want the respect of the salesperson. I need that validation and if you call me "honey", I'm not buying a car from you. Cars serve a purpose. I need to get to work, go the grocery store, drive to Target. It is a means to an end.
Cars are a luxury item for Jose. He wants the bells and whistles. I just want it to have a radio. He wants the style and prestige. I want it to start on a cold morning. The design of the dash, the small nuances of engineering changes, the variations of options available- all those things excite him. I like having a cup holder.
While I was car shopping, we wouldn't even be close to a test drive and he was asking about what color it came in. Nice way to play it cool! I was perfectly fine getting info and walking away. He would have signed his name in a heartbeat if you handed him a pen. He felt guilty for the Honda guy when I decided I was getting another Rav4. The only part I felt bad about was that the Honda guy was wearing a herringbone jacket with a vertical stripe shirt and a horizontal stripe tie. I think I got a good deal. That was my goal. Jose wants everyone to be happy.
True confession time: I did get heated seats. I know that negates everything I just wrote about function vs luxury. I try to play it off as a medical need. When you use heated seated, that little bit of warmth helps to avoid lower back stiffness. That sounds like a good story, but really I just like having a butt warmer.
Monday, March 10, 2014
Exhausting
Saturday was a busy day. We met my sister and her husband for breakfast. I found it puzzling that Jose was so worried about meeting them. He seems so at ease talking to people. Maybe he was just concerned they wouldn't like him. Then I went car shopping. Having him as the 'person with someone car shopping', I think assumptions were made. The first salesperson referred to him as 'hubby' and asked if the car would be registered in one name or two. (It didn't help that at one point, Jose made the statement "we have dogs".) The next sales guy didn't go so far. Well, not in words. Stopping by Vanity Fair reminded me that he has an eye for picking out clothes (thankfully mostly conservative). That night, we talked about possible vacation ideas for the summer. We looked at cruises. Nothing more than a five day cruise, which all leave from Florida. I was the one who brought it up. I love cruising, and the thought of it brought hope for warmer weather, the need for icy drinks and bathing suits.
And then I started to think. I couldn't fall asleep that night thinking about it. We all know by now, this can be dangerous. What ifs crept back in. I hate that. Things are going splendidly. We still laugh. A lot. He wasn't scared away by stories my sister told. Even the part where she shared that I am high maintenance and then made him write down his full name and date of birth for a background check. I'm still hoping she is kidding. I send him home with food which makes him very happy and I'm not tempted to eat it all. He is supportive of me going to Weight Watchers and I don't mind if that he sneaks in work email over the weekend.
So what is it about the thought of planning this trip? It might be the money. It's a pretty big investment, probably close to $1000. Granted, I'd only need to put down $50 that is nonrefundable. Losing the money isn't what I'm afraid of. You can always make more money. I'm afraid that I'm going to lose something more important. This is totally irrational. I am admitting that this is not logical at all. But if the cruise isn't scheduled, then it can't be cancelled. And I won't have a reminder that I am NOT going on a wonderful vacation with him if something happens and we're not together this summer. But if we plan something more casual, like a few days at the beach- that isn't devastating to cancel. Where is this self-preservation mode coming from? I am going to have to tell him that I'm freaking out a little and even though I brought it up, I can't follow through and book a cruise right now. I am going to have to tell him I am crazy. I guess this is baggage I'm not quite ready to unpack. The silver lining? I'm hoping to unpack that baggage in time to pack for a summer vacation.
And then I started to think. I couldn't fall asleep that night thinking about it. We all know by now, this can be dangerous. What ifs crept back in. I hate that. Things are going splendidly. We still laugh. A lot. He wasn't scared away by stories my sister told. Even the part where she shared that I am high maintenance and then made him write down his full name and date of birth for a background check. I'm still hoping she is kidding. I send him home with food which makes him very happy and I'm not tempted to eat it all. He is supportive of me going to Weight Watchers and I don't mind if that he sneaks in work email over the weekend.
So what is it about the thought of planning this trip? It might be the money. It's a pretty big investment, probably close to $1000. Granted, I'd only need to put down $50 that is nonrefundable. Losing the money isn't what I'm afraid of. You can always make more money. I'm afraid that I'm going to lose something more important. This is totally irrational. I am admitting that this is not logical at all. But if the cruise isn't scheduled, then it can't be cancelled. And I won't have a reminder that I am NOT going on a wonderful vacation with him if something happens and we're not together this summer. But if we plan something more casual, like a few days at the beach- that isn't devastating to cancel. Where is this self-preservation mode coming from? I am going to have to tell him that I'm freaking out a little and even though I brought it up, I can't follow through and book a cruise right now. I am going to have to tell him I am crazy. I guess this is baggage I'm not quite ready to unpack. The silver lining? I'm hoping to unpack that baggage in time to pack for a summer vacation.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Do something daring
Do I dare? Do I go out on a limb? I'm considering something bold, almost radical. Should I change my facebook status to "in a relationship"?
It is a social media society. Proclaiming this on facebook would be sharing it with all my closest friends and relatives. And the distant ones too. And some people who are barely friends. But they are facebook friends, so that counts right.
Here is the risk. It's been five and a half weeks. He's successfully met my friends. He met my sister but only by accident. He spends weekends at my house. And the occasional snow day but there aren't going to be any more of those this season. There better not be. But it's only been five and a half weeks. I'm still counting it in weeks for pity's sake. That is way to early to announce it.
But talk of a vacation was mentioned again. We're planning to take a small trip together. That is something that only people in a relationship do. Isn't it? We talked about him meeting my parents. He talked about me meeting his. Although that was mostly in jest since his family lives in Peru.
Then the little voice of pessimism chimes in. It's not that often and not that loud, but it is there. It says that something might go wrong. I'm not living in fear of this. In fact, I barely even think of it. Mostly, I only hear it when I think about changing my status on facebook. So I guess it's best to leave things as is. I'm not that daring. For now.
It is a social media society. Proclaiming this on facebook would be sharing it with all my closest friends and relatives. And the distant ones too. And some people who are barely friends. But they are facebook friends, so that counts right.
Here is the risk. It's been five and a half weeks. He's successfully met my friends. He met my sister but only by accident. He spends weekends at my house. And the occasional snow day but there aren't going to be any more of those this season. There better not be. But it's only been five and a half weeks. I'm still counting it in weeks for pity's sake. That is way to early to announce it.
But talk of a vacation was mentioned again. We're planning to take a small trip together. That is something that only people in a relationship do. Isn't it? We talked about him meeting my parents. He talked about me meeting his. Although that was mostly in jest since his family lives in Peru.
Then the little voice of pessimism chimes in. It's not that often and not that loud, but it is there. It says that something might go wrong. I'm not living in fear of this. In fact, I barely even think of it. Mostly, I only hear it when I think about changing my status on facebook. So I guess it's best to leave things as is. I'm not that daring. For now.
Monday, March 3, 2014
I goofed.
An opportunity presented itself and I messed up. I panicked. Choked. Someone I went to high school with saw us in the parking lot when we went to breakfast on Sunday. While a nice girl, I hadn't seen her in 25 years and I really didn't need to say more than a hello. Before I could escape, she said, "Is this your husband?" I was so caught off guard, my response was pitiful. "No, this is Jose."
As soon as the words escaped my lips, I wanted to suck them back into my mouth. We quickly went into introductions, hand shakes, 'oh, I bet your boys keep you busy', blah, blah, blah. But the damage was done. As much as I tried to defend myself, it almost made it worse. Calling someone a boyfriend sounds so high school. Boyfriend/Girlfriend doesn't sound right after the age of 32. We're adults, not kids who met at a bar. What does that leave me? This is the man I'm seeing? That sounds like we just hooked up. My friend? That is dreadful. Significant other? Pass.
The good news is that Jose laughed about it. He understood the awkward and unexpected dilemma I was thrown into with little warning. More importantly he knows how I feel about him. That didn't stop him from using it to tease me all afternoon.
The better news is that he laughs about a lot of things I do. We were walking around Target after breakfast. Getting over a cold, you would think I would have tissues with me at all times. Nope. And my nose started to run. So he reached into his pocket and handed me a napkin. I smooth it out and instead of saying something like,'oh thank you' or 'you're so sweet', or even 'you're so prepared', what do I say? "You're giving me a used napkin?" (For the record, he hadn't used it to blow his nose.) Thank goodness, he laughed. Just like when I picked up a few things at the grocery store. He unloaded everything onto the kitchen table and neatly folded the bags to put away. Then left it all there. Orange juice, yogurt, cauliflower, creamer- right on the table. So I called out, since by this time he was back in the living room in front of the TV, "don't worry, I'll put it away in the fridge." As he came back in the kitchen, he was laughing, not scowling. Lucky for me. As long as we both keep laughing.
As soon as the words escaped my lips, I wanted to suck them back into my mouth. We quickly went into introductions, hand shakes, 'oh, I bet your boys keep you busy', blah, blah, blah. But the damage was done. As much as I tried to defend myself, it almost made it worse. Calling someone a boyfriend sounds so high school. Boyfriend/Girlfriend doesn't sound right after the age of 32. We're adults, not kids who met at a bar. What does that leave me? This is the man I'm seeing? That sounds like we just hooked up. My friend? That is dreadful. Significant other? Pass.
The good news is that Jose laughed about it. He understood the awkward and unexpected dilemma I was thrown into with little warning. More importantly he knows how I feel about him. That didn't stop him from using it to tease me all afternoon.
The better news is that he laughs about a lot of things I do. We were walking around Target after breakfast. Getting over a cold, you would think I would have tissues with me at all times. Nope. And my nose started to run. So he reached into his pocket and handed me a napkin. I smooth it out and instead of saying something like,'oh thank you' or 'you're so sweet', or even 'you're so prepared', what do I say? "You're giving me a used napkin?" (For the record, he hadn't used it to blow his nose.) Thank goodness, he laughed. Just like when I picked up a few things at the grocery store. He unloaded everything onto the kitchen table and neatly folded the bags to put away. Then left it all there. Orange juice, yogurt, cauliflower, creamer- right on the table. So I called out, since by this time he was back in the living room in front of the TV, "don't worry, I'll put it away in the fridge." As he came back in the kitchen, he was laughing, not scowling. Lucky for me. As long as we both keep laughing.
Friday, February 28, 2014
It had to happen sometime
I have a cold. It's not a bad cold, but I still don't feel good. Sore throat, minor cough, irritated sinuses. My most problematic symptom is self-pity. However, this is a good test. Let's see if I get special treatment. Just once, I want someone to offer to get me ginger ale. I want someone to cover me with blankets and put on movies so I can veg out. Is it possible to get a prescription for snuggling?
Monday, February 24, 2014
The Friends
Saturday night marked an important event. Meeting the friends. Our Friday lunch conversation led to the realization that one couple was child free on Saturday. It was a matter of two and a half minutes until a time and place was determined. While the email I sent was posed as a question, I made it clear that it wasn't really a question of if he wanted to go out with my friends the next night. The question was, do you want to go out with my friends on Saturday or do you want to stay home alone. I think he laughed. It wasn't that we hadn't talked about meeting each other's friends. We just hadn't talked about it happening with such little notice.
Saturday morning, we went to breakfast, drove around a little to find the tennis courts still covered in snow (my tennis lessons are on hold for now), showed him my school and office, and then took a nice walk around my neighborhood. Then we took the dogs for a walk. All four of them. Getting four dogs to walk at the same pace is impossible. For us to take a walk together with the dogs means we'll have to leave some of the dogs at home. It's incredible that temps in the 50s seem like summer when you're used to 30 degrees.
Prior to leaving for breakfast, a warning was issued. Because he wanted to go back to The Breakfast Hut (he liked it more than the other diner we tried), I couldn't promise that we wouldn't run into my sister and brother-in-law. Their usual Saturday included The Hut, farmer's market, Sam's Club and Tractor Supply. They weren't there as we walked in so I thought we were safe. Alas, their morning had a late start and I saw them as we were walking out. The introduction was brief and cordial. And I'm wondering how long it took for her to call to my mom.
The evening went swimmingly. Conversations were varied, interesting and lively. I got knowing looks from my friends and from Jose. He did have a couple beers which led to the conversation on the way home of what things I say that shouldn't be repeated for others. Really, it was only the awkward moment of the evening that we had to laugh off so I can't complain. For the sake of my self preservation and that of my mom, ask me in person and I'll share.
I can't recall feeling so ....I don't even have a word for it. Comfortable? No, I need a word more meaningful. Content? Sounds like a word to use when you are settling. Positive? Too clinical. Happy? God, I sound like an idiot teenager. But that's it. I'm so happy. I'm happy with all the parts of the time I spend with him. I'm happy watching him when there is a soccer game on. He doesn't care who is playing, but still screams when someone scores a goal. I'm happy when he teases me about dumb stuff- like how I squeeze the toothpaste or my small TV in the living room or hitting potholes when I drive. He calls me a Girl Scout when I floss my teeth at night. He can tell me stories about politicians and government. He texts his daughter that he loves her every night. And he lets me know when he is thinking about me.
He's said to me, "I know you're not perfect, but you're perfect for me." That takes my breath away. But we're not going to rush anything. He keeps reminding me that we're going to get to know each other. I'm not sure if that is so I don't freak out or so he doesn't. So in June, he mentions that we will see where we are. I know where I am hoping to be.
Saturday morning, we went to breakfast, drove around a little to find the tennis courts still covered in snow (my tennis lessons are on hold for now), showed him my school and office, and then took a nice walk around my neighborhood. Then we took the dogs for a walk. All four of them. Getting four dogs to walk at the same pace is impossible. For us to take a walk together with the dogs means we'll have to leave some of the dogs at home. It's incredible that temps in the 50s seem like summer when you're used to 30 degrees.
Prior to leaving for breakfast, a warning was issued. Because he wanted to go back to The Breakfast Hut (he liked it more than the other diner we tried), I couldn't promise that we wouldn't run into my sister and brother-in-law. Their usual Saturday included The Hut, farmer's market, Sam's Club and Tractor Supply. They weren't there as we walked in so I thought we were safe. Alas, their morning had a late start and I saw them as we were walking out. The introduction was brief and cordial. And I'm wondering how long it took for her to call to my mom.
The evening went swimmingly. Conversations were varied, interesting and lively. I got knowing looks from my friends and from Jose. He did have a couple beers which led to the conversation on the way home of what things I say that shouldn't be repeated for others. Really, it was only the awkward moment of the evening that we had to laugh off so I can't complain. For the sake of my self preservation and that of my mom, ask me in person and I'll share.
I can't recall feeling so ....I don't even have a word for it. Comfortable? No, I need a word more meaningful. Content? Sounds like a word to use when you are settling. Positive? Too clinical. Happy? God, I sound like an idiot teenager. But that's it. I'm so happy. I'm happy with all the parts of the time I spend with him. I'm happy watching him when there is a soccer game on. He doesn't care who is playing, but still screams when someone scores a goal. I'm happy when he teases me about dumb stuff- like how I squeeze the toothpaste or my small TV in the living room or hitting potholes when I drive. He calls me a Girl Scout when I floss my teeth at night. He can tell me stories about politicians and government. He texts his daughter that he loves her every night. And he lets me know when he is thinking about me.
He's said to me, "I know you're not perfect, but you're perfect for me." That takes my breath away. But we're not going to rush anything. He keeps reminding me that we're going to get to know each other. I'm not sure if that is so I don't freak out or so he doesn't. So in June, he mentions that we will see where we are. I know where I am hoping to be.
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Snow Days
This winter has been snowy, bitterly cold and almost miserable. We've had a ton of snow days, more than I can remember in a long time. Days off aside, the two hour delays have made continuity at school a bit challenging. I feel like I can't really get in the swing of things at school and it's hard to remember what I need to do and in what order. But I can't really say I've been complaining about these last few snow days. I've had company.
Most recently, we were expecting 12 to 18 inches of snow the day before Valentine's Day. The original plan for Valentine's Day involved Jose going to a meeting in Maryland and me being alone for Valentine's Day. Again. While I was a bit bummed, I wasn't ready to slit my wrists. We said I would make dinner on Saturday. I'm not a mushy, romantic and I was fine with that. With a white weather forecast, plans changed. The meeting was cancelled, there was no way we would have school and it was decided that Jose would come to my house before anything made driving dangerous.
In general terms, he arrived Wednesday night and left Monday evening. On Saturday, he went home for what was supposed to be most of the day. But after a couple hours, he called to tell me he didn't feel like doing any of the things he was supposed to do (laundry, birthday cake with the neighbor, groceries) and he wanted to see if it was ok to come back to my house early. So basically, it was four and a half days together. And it was all wonderful.
I am not the kind of girl who is sappy, always cheery or all sunshine and lollipops. I really struggle to find words to explain this. This sounds like one of those stories that dumb girls tell all their friends about how blissfully happy she is to just sit in the same room as her boyfriend. Or how she feels like she has known him forever. Or how they talk endlessly and he really listens to her. Blah, blah, blah. Most times, I would be making a vomiting motion by now. Except I'm the one saying those things.
I mean, really, who wakes up on Valentine's Day to hear that he called your favorite restaurant to make reservations? I was really hoping for a card too, but the timing of the snow screwed things up. And he did shovel my driveway three times to clear the massive amount of snow. He gets a pass. This year only. We went out for breakfast over the weekend and sat at the diner long enough I thought they were going to give us the lunch menu. He comments how much he likes my outfit when I'm wearing yoga pants. Yoga pants!
As you shake your head at me, I understand this is not reality. Reality is when things don't go well, and someone snaps. Well made plans go awry and then you really see what someone is like. I know this is looming. But the talks we've had make it seem like it won't be a big deal. We've disagreed about shoveling my driveway. Dumb as it was, it worked out. We had a rational conversation and reached resolution. Dare I say, we even compromised? I've never been so good at the compromising thing. Then, there was a misunderstanding about a joke. He thought he was leading me to compliment him, and I thought he was side stepping an issue. So I brought it up and we talked about it openly. It clarified the misunderstanding. And there wasn't a problem. This is new to me. Reflecting on it kind of even baffles me. A possible summer vacation was discussed. If we pick a cruise from Florida, he offered to pay my airfare- which of course caused me to make a face. I didn't even realize I did that, but he asked me about it. So I told him what I was really thinking, which was that I didn't expect him to pay for any part of it for me.
That's not to say we are only talking serious stuff. We went to the Pagoda. The road was still icy and I did joke about it being a good place to hide bodies. Air hockey proved to be a lot of fun. When we reached a tie of 3-3, I suggested we quit there. He thinks I was joking when I said I was a sore loser. And he let me pick a chick flick for our first movie. He did lose a few points when he told Niko that he smelled like cheese. But all is forgiven when I see the note he left for me on my toothpaste. It's not a love note. No, it's a note from the toothpaste, begging for mercy from being strangled. Apparently, you're supposed to only squeeze toothpaste from the bottom of the tube and not just grip the middle haphazardly. There are a bunch of things we laughed at that remain just between us.
And now the part I'm almost ashamed to admit. When he works from my kitchen, I like sitting in the same room with him. I like hearing him work, talk to customers, tell me about his co-workers or the emails he gets. I've spent more time grinning like an idiot this past weekend than I care to admit. During the second round of shoveling, I was prepping potatoes for dinner. I stood at the kitchen counter smiling. Because I was roasting potatoes for our dinner. A contented feeling washed over me as I was cutting them into chunks. Good God, what is wrong with me? Don't answer that.
The theme is still that I'm not freaking out. I've known him three weeks and I don't want to get ahead of myself. But I can't stand that it will be about 51 hours until I might see him next. It almost makes me wish for another snow day.
Most recently, we were expecting 12 to 18 inches of snow the day before Valentine's Day. The original plan for Valentine's Day involved Jose going to a meeting in Maryland and me being alone for Valentine's Day. Again. While I was a bit bummed, I wasn't ready to slit my wrists. We said I would make dinner on Saturday. I'm not a mushy, romantic and I was fine with that. With a white weather forecast, plans changed. The meeting was cancelled, there was no way we would have school and it was decided that Jose would come to my house before anything made driving dangerous.
In general terms, he arrived Wednesday night and left Monday evening. On Saturday, he went home for what was supposed to be most of the day. But after a couple hours, he called to tell me he didn't feel like doing any of the things he was supposed to do (laundry, birthday cake with the neighbor, groceries) and he wanted to see if it was ok to come back to my house early. So basically, it was four and a half days together. And it was all wonderful.
I am not the kind of girl who is sappy, always cheery or all sunshine and lollipops. I really struggle to find words to explain this. This sounds like one of those stories that dumb girls tell all their friends about how blissfully happy she is to just sit in the same room as her boyfriend. Or how she feels like she has known him forever. Or how they talk endlessly and he really listens to her. Blah, blah, blah. Most times, I would be making a vomiting motion by now. Except I'm the one saying those things.
I mean, really, who wakes up on Valentine's Day to hear that he called your favorite restaurant to make reservations? I was really hoping for a card too, but the timing of the snow screwed things up. And he did shovel my driveway three times to clear the massive amount of snow. He gets a pass. This year only. We went out for breakfast over the weekend and sat at the diner long enough I thought they were going to give us the lunch menu. He comments how much he likes my outfit when I'm wearing yoga pants. Yoga pants!
As you shake your head at me, I understand this is not reality. Reality is when things don't go well, and someone snaps. Well made plans go awry and then you really see what someone is like. I know this is looming. But the talks we've had make it seem like it won't be a big deal. We've disagreed about shoveling my driveway. Dumb as it was, it worked out. We had a rational conversation and reached resolution. Dare I say, we even compromised? I've never been so good at the compromising thing. Then, there was a misunderstanding about a joke. He thought he was leading me to compliment him, and I thought he was side stepping an issue. So I brought it up and we talked about it openly. It clarified the misunderstanding. And there wasn't a problem. This is new to me. Reflecting on it kind of even baffles me. A possible summer vacation was discussed. If we pick a cruise from Florida, he offered to pay my airfare- which of course caused me to make a face. I didn't even realize I did that, but he asked me about it. So I told him what I was really thinking, which was that I didn't expect him to pay for any part of it for me.
That's not to say we are only talking serious stuff. We went to the Pagoda. The road was still icy and I did joke about it being a good place to hide bodies. Air hockey proved to be a lot of fun. When we reached a tie of 3-3, I suggested we quit there. He thinks I was joking when I said I was a sore loser. And he let me pick a chick flick for our first movie. He did lose a few points when he told Niko that he smelled like cheese. But all is forgiven when I see the note he left for me on my toothpaste. It's not a love note. No, it's a note from the toothpaste, begging for mercy from being strangled. Apparently, you're supposed to only squeeze toothpaste from the bottom of the tube and not just grip the middle haphazardly. There are a bunch of things we laughed at that remain just between us.
And now the part I'm almost ashamed to admit. When he works from my kitchen, I like sitting in the same room with him. I like hearing him work, talk to customers, tell me about his co-workers or the emails he gets. I've spent more time grinning like an idiot this past weekend than I care to admit. During the second round of shoveling, I was prepping potatoes for dinner. I stood at the kitchen counter smiling. Because I was roasting potatoes for our dinner. A contented feeling washed over me as I was cutting them into chunks. Good God, what is wrong with me? Don't answer that.
The theme is still that I'm not freaking out. I've known him three weeks and I don't want to get ahead of myself. But I can't stand that it will be about 51 hours until I might see him next. It almost makes me wish for another snow day.
Monday, February 10, 2014
Hidden Posts
I've written two posts since For The Record. If you're wondering where they are, I haven't posted them. Mainly, they have been my crazy musings, my neuroses that I can't even admit to having. It's the running dialogue that races through my mind and once I figure it out, I'll share. That might take a while.
The bottom line is this: I don't know how to date. I'm dealing with someone an hour away, so a mid-week "let's grab dinner" becomes a challenge. And weekends are looking less like dates and more like trial living arrangements. That might be an exaggeration. I'll let you decide. This weekend logged a little over 36 hours together. And Sunday night we still talked on the phone for another hour. It might have been two. That is NOT dating in it's usual terms. Not that I am unhappy with spending 36 hours with him. We never run out of things to talk about. We make each other laugh. I really enjoy spending time with him. Who wouldn't want someone around calling you baby doll and shoveling snow? For now, I'm just going to relax. Take things as they come. I'm not going to freak out. Although I am very tempted.
The bottom line is this: I don't know how to date. I'm dealing with someone an hour away, so a mid-week "let's grab dinner" becomes a challenge. And weekends are looking less like dates and more like trial living arrangements. That might be an exaggeration. I'll let you decide. This weekend logged a little over 36 hours together. And Sunday night we still talked on the phone for another hour. It might have been two. That is NOT dating in it's usual terms. Not that I am unhappy with spending 36 hours with him. We never run out of things to talk about. We make each other laugh. I really enjoy spending time with him. Who wouldn't want someone around calling you baby doll and shoveling snow? For now, I'm just going to relax. Take things as they come. I'm not going to freak out. Although I am very tempted.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
For the Record
For the record, I am not freaking out. This is a major accomplishment for me. It took having a few people tell me in various ways that I need to just enjoy things as they progress. The support I found was reassuring. For the most part. It was reassuring to hear that I should just relax. My least favorite way to hear this was, "You are crazy. This is what you wanted." I am totally enjoying all the cute stuff that is happening now. He holds my hand and touches my hair. I know that won't happen forever. He poured me a glass of orange juice. Never mind that I don't drink orange juice, he didn't know that, but what a nice gesture.
I am dropping my expectations, as opposed to lowering my standards. I did that before. That was how The Tool found his way into my social life and my bed. Thankfully that was short lived and I didn't make that same mistake again when he resurfaced a second time. I'm not expecting that this will fulfill my every fantasy nor end tragically. It's been so comfortable to be around him that I don't feel that tightening in the pit of my stomach while I'm waiting to hear from him.
The most important expectation that I have dropped is that I don't need to know how everything is going to turn out. I am releasing that aspect of my control freak self. I don't have to decide if I am selling my house and moving to York. The hour drive isn't going to be thought of as 'my future commute'.
Don't get me wrong, we're still learning a lot about each other. Like music. He had me listen to songs he likes. Some seemed slow to me and not my exact taste. I couldn't guess any of the 70's artists. There were some Spanish songs that sound folk-sy and I could translate a word or two (bailar, corazon). As he teaches me more Spanish, I'd probably like it better. I played some music for him. He probably felt the same way. To point out something new, he says 'for the record'. For the record, I learned he likes orange juice with pulp. We talked basic finances, including the taboo salary question. He initiated the discussion. He looked at my closets and didn't leave the house screaming. He did say he can see some better ways to organize things. He's right, but at least he didn't start hanging the pile of sweatshirts in front of me. We still have a lot to learn. And lots of time to do just that. And I am not freaking out.
He is definitely a type A. I'm not but I am stubborn. So when he was helping to clear my driveway of ice, it drove him crazy that I don't shovel in straight lines. He took the shovel from me. And he felt compelled to neaten the edges I had shoveled from the last snow. Inside a little voice was speaking to me of judgement. It was like saying that what I had done wasn't right. (Seriously, I'm going to be offended about shoveling?) We all know it wasn't about shoveling, but about my decision of how to handle something. And an unspoken judgment how I handled it might have been the wrong way. And then a beautiful thing happened. I let it go. It was important to him to have it done in a way that he saw as properly, he wasn't asking me do anything and it was making a situation for me better, so let him do what he wants. I don't have to control this. He is shoveling my driveway, so good God, don't say a thing! And I didn't. And we were both fine.
For the record, he loves history. Me? Not so much a fan of history-boring. But he speaks with such passion and knowledge about it and isn't that what is most important? And his reference to The Iliad and The Odyssey made me swoon. He is teaching me Spanish. Ok, so our first lesson lasted about ten minutes, but ended with the word beso. For the record, that is just fine with me.
I am dropping my expectations, as opposed to lowering my standards. I did that before. That was how The Tool found his way into my social life and my bed. Thankfully that was short lived and I didn't make that same mistake again when he resurfaced a second time. I'm not expecting that this will fulfill my every fantasy nor end tragically. It's been so comfortable to be around him that I don't feel that tightening in the pit of my stomach while I'm waiting to hear from him.
The most important expectation that I have dropped is that I don't need to know how everything is going to turn out. I am releasing that aspect of my control freak self. I don't have to decide if I am selling my house and moving to York. The hour drive isn't going to be thought of as 'my future commute'.
Don't get me wrong, we're still learning a lot about each other. Like music. He had me listen to songs he likes. Some seemed slow to me and not my exact taste. I couldn't guess any of the 70's artists. There were some Spanish songs that sound folk-sy and I could translate a word or two (bailar, corazon). As he teaches me more Spanish, I'd probably like it better. I played some music for him. He probably felt the same way. To point out something new, he says 'for the record'. For the record, I learned he likes orange juice with pulp. We talked basic finances, including the taboo salary question. He initiated the discussion. He looked at my closets and didn't leave the house screaming. He did say he can see some better ways to organize things. He's right, but at least he didn't start hanging the pile of sweatshirts in front of me. We still have a lot to learn. And lots of time to do just that. And I am not freaking out.
He is definitely a type A. I'm not but I am stubborn. So when he was helping to clear my driveway of ice, it drove him crazy that I don't shovel in straight lines. He took the shovel from me. And he felt compelled to neaten the edges I had shoveled from the last snow. Inside a little voice was speaking to me of judgement. It was like saying that what I had done wasn't right. (Seriously, I'm going to be offended about shoveling?) We all know it wasn't about shoveling, but about my decision of how to handle something. And an unspoken judgment how I handled it might have been the wrong way. And then a beautiful thing happened. I let it go. It was important to him to have it done in a way that he saw as properly, he wasn't asking me do anything and it was making a situation for me better, so let him do what he wants. I don't have to control this. He is shoveling my driveway, so good God, don't say a thing! And I didn't. And we were both fine.
For the record, he loves history. Me? Not so much a fan of history-boring. But he speaks with such passion and knowledge about it and isn't that what is most important? And his reference to The Iliad and The Odyssey made me swoon. He is teaching me Spanish. Ok, so our first lesson lasted about ten minutes, but ended with the word beso. For the record, that is just fine with me.
Monday, January 27, 2014
Rip Tide
Two disclaimers before I start:
1. Admitting something is the first step to fixing a problem.
2. Mom, remember that you are supposed to pretend you don't read my blog.
Imagine you're at the beach. You're jumping in the waves, laughing. The salt seeps into your mouth but you don't care because the sun is warming your face. When you are tired from jumping, you go to get out of the water and look around a bit dazed. You are nowhere near where your blanket is. The current has carried you to some other place and you didn't even realize you were moving. That is how I feel this morning.
I don't know how I ended up where I am. An email from Jose on POF asked to meet for coffee. (I know I'm breaking my rule of naming names. There isn't any possible way that I know someone who would know him.) I can do that. Yes, I can do coffee. Let him see I'm not stick thin and he'll go away. Yes, I'm cynical. Then he sent me a text every day. Sometimes it was just a good morning or a have a good day type of thing. Needy, I thought. And then he called me princess in one of the texts. Needy and apparently delusional. But we spoke on the phone and he seemed positive and upbeat and eager to meet me. So we agreed to meet at Park City Mall.
Their Starbucks is minuscule. So we walked to the food court area to sit and talk. Lots more room and less chaos. And most importantly, he bought my drink. I knew we talked for a while, but wouldn't have guessed it was over three hours. He is easy to talk to. And I felt oddly comfortable. I started off with my usual sarcasm and he laughed. Example: On the phone he said he liked football. So we talked teams. He had lived in Baltimore when the franchise was moved there. So he liked Baltimore. Then when he moved to York, he watched football with his daughter and they followed the Steelers. He said he liked both. I told him that wasn't possible. In line at The Bux, he asked if I really hated Baltimore. I thought for a moment and then, in a completely serious tone, said "yes". And he laughed. I was completely at ease. He was very much a gentleman. He helped me with my coat, he walked me to my car, he asked if he could kiss me on the cheek. To make sure I got home safely, he wanted me to text him. And we talked about having lunch the next day.
Sunday, I drove to York to meet him at a Thai place. I like that he had an idea of a restaurant and it wasn't the usual, boring chain. We joked around more and shared more. He's very open and tells me anything. He travels once a quarter. Some of the women he met before asked presumptuous questions about his salary. He has a herniated disk and about two years ago had to have a kidney removed. But what's better, it's not one sided. He asks me questions. And unlike my usual MO, I'm telling him things. Things about me. About past relationships, or feelings, or what I value in a person. By the end of lunch, I felt things were still going well. There were no awkward lulls in the conversation. I'm not sure this has happened before.
Then he invited me to his house. He wanted to give me the grand tour. And he wanted to compare lists. The list was something he said was a homework assignment he gave me before we met. After we spoke on the phone, he told me to write down ten words that I thought described him. He would do the same and we would compare. What a fun idea. I love words, this is right up my alley. Part of me always questions the safety of this. He told me his daughter pokes fun at him for being OCD and being so tidy. I'm curious as to how tidy. At some point in time, I'm going to be alone with him in his house. If someone is that concerned about neatness, he'd never risk bloodshed in his living room.
His house- When he described himself as OCD, he was right. Things are orderly and carefully arranged.. He already made it clear that no one else is allowed to clean his home office. Not a problem for me. I love being told I'm not allowed to clean something. And then he showed me his closet. I've heard of people arranging their closet by color, but I've never seen it done before. Pants, all arranged in order. Long sleeved shirts, by color. A separate section for polos, by color. Even the section of shirts that needed to go to the cleaners were hung up. Really? Now I'm not sure I want to show him my house. I can unclutter but I'm definitely not opening my closet doors.
The list- It was partly accurate and partly bullshit. I'm mean, seriously, why else would he start off with beautiful? Remember, he saw a pic online and spoke to me on the phone at that point. But it's nice to read ten positive words someone thinks about you. Everyone needs an ego boost like that once in a while.
The conversation- So this is the rip tide part. Somehow, the conversation got intense. But it wasn't in a direct or intimidating way. It was a comment like, "in 90 days, we'll write those lists again but we can't use any of the words we used the first time". That's three months. He's picturing us together in three months. Then travel discussion turned into- if we're still together, we should take a cruise together this summer. Now we're planning vacations? If you're thinking, "isn't this what she wanted?", you're right. But now that it's here, I'm a little freaked out. Come on, it's been two dates. How did I get from coffee to a cruise? And talk of food he'll have me try in Peru, and meeting his sister, in Peru. Holy crap. I don't actually freak out in front of him, but my mind races as I'm driving home. I try to picture some of what was mentioned. Then I feel trapped, like I don't have control of where this is going. Then I try to tell myself that it is ok to let go and allow this to happen. I take a deep breath and think calm thoughts. I review what has been said. How did I get here? Panic creeps in and it feels like it is happening too fast. It sort of feels like what happened when I started seeing Ken. It was a whirlwind and seemed to get serious too quickly. I know that hindsight is 20/20 but I can't help that feeling of fear creeping towards me. But what has really happened? Nothing has happened and I'm blowing this out of proportion. All of this talk is exactly that; just talk. Talk is cheap. It's not like I've been offered to schedule a vacation.
The good stuff-He asked if he could kiss me. He even confessed he was feeling a little nervous. After we had mentioned a few times how comfortable it was to be with each other, this was unexpected. How sweet. Well, apparently, those nerves were short lived. We were making out like teenagers in no time. I won't go into details for two reasons. As an adult, it's poor form. And because I know that in reality, my mom is reading this.
He also brought up his profile on the website. He told me, without asking anything of me, that he would stop emailing anyone he had been in contact with on the site. His preference is to focus on one thing at a time. He felt it was the only way to handle getting to know someone. And he specifically said he wasn't asking me to do the same, but did ask what I intended to do. I could honestly tell him that I wasn't communicating with anyone else. But I wasn't sure how I would handle It's Just Lunch. Who knows when they would call next? But with my luck, I'm expecting a call from them any minute.
Upcoming tests- We're planning on having lunch before the Super Bowl. (He has a party to go with friends, and it's a guys only thing.) It's his turn to drive. That means I'll show him my house. Will he be appalled? He might open a kitchen cabinet or see where I keep my shoes (in a pile on the floor of the closet); will that send him running for the hills? He did have dogs before, so I'm not so worried about the dog toys on the floor. He knows about all the dogs. But I never mentioned about which ones sleep in bed. I haven't broken it to him that I don't make my bed. I mean, I'll make it on the day he is coming to my house. But Tally likes to un-make the bed. Why bother? When he told me about his Yorkies (he doesn't have any right now), he asked if I would ever consider having a lab. Now we're talking about our future dogs? This is where I start to hyperventilate. So now I have a week to pretend like my house is always clean and organized. I work really hard to not have clutter in my house, but it's an ongoing battle.
The other ongoing concern: he's an early morning person. Like 4:30. In the morning. Or as most of us refer to it- the middle of the night. One of the texts he sent was at 5 am. Who sends texts at 5 am, unless you're in college and just coming home? I'm not even sure I'm capable of complete sentences at 5 in the morning. This might be what makes or breaks it. He goes to bed on weeknights around 8:30-9. Sometimes I going to the gym then. I keep telling myself I don't have to worry about this right now. And I'm not going to worry about anything as long as he keeps calling me princess.
1. Admitting something is the first step to fixing a problem.
2. Mom, remember that you are supposed to pretend you don't read my blog.
Imagine you're at the beach. You're jumping in the waves, laughing. The salt seeps into your mouth but you don't care because the sun is warming your face. When you are tired from jumping, you go to get out of the water and look around a bit dazed. You are nowhere near where your blanket is. The current has carried you to some other place and you didn't even realize you were moving. That is how I feel this morning.
I don't know how I ended up where I am. An email from Jose on POF asked to meet for coffee. (I know I'm breaking my rule of naming names. There isn't any possible way that I know someone who would know him.) I can do that. Yes, I can do coffee. Let him see I'm not stick thin and he'll go away. Yes, I'm cynical. Then he sent me a text every day. Sometimes it was just a good morning or a have a good day type of thing. Needy, I thought. And then he called me princess in one of the texts. Needy and apparently delusional. But we spoke on the phone and he seemed positive and upbeat and eager to meet me. So we agreed to meet at Park City Mall.
Their Starbucks is minuscule. So we walked to the food court area to sit and talk. Lots more room and less chaos. And most importantly, he bought my drink. I knew we talked for a while, but wouldn't have guessed it was over three hours. He is easy to talk to. And I felt oddly comfortable. I started off with my usual sarcasm and he laughed. Example: On the phone he said he liked football. So we talked teams. He had lived in Baltimore when the franchise was moved there. So he liked Baltimore. Then when he moved to York, he watched football with his daughter and they followed the Steelers. He said he liked both. I told him that wasn't possible. In line at The Bux, he asked if I really hated Baltimore. I thought for a moment and then, in a completely serious tone, said "yes". And he laughed. I was completely at ease. He was very much a gentleman. He helped me with my coat, he walked me to my car, he asked if he could kiss me on the cheek. To make sure I got home safely, he wanted me to text him. And we talked about having lunch the next day.
Sunday, I drove to York to meet him at a Thai place. I like that he had an idea of a restaurant and it wasn't the usual, boring chain. We joked around more and shared more. He's very open and tells me anything. He travels once a quarter. Some of the women he met before asked presumptuous questions about his salary. He has a herniated disk and about two years ago had to have a kidney removed. But what's better, it's not one sided. He asks me questions. And unlike my usual MO, I'm telling him things. Things about me. About past relationships, or feelings, or what I value in a person. By the end of lunch, I felt things were still going well. There were no awkward lulls in the conversation. I'm not sure this has happened before.
Then he invited me to his house. He wanted to give me the grand tour. And he wanted to compare lists. The list was something he said was a homework assignment he gave me before we met. After we spoke on the phone, he told me to write down ten words that I thought described him. He would do the same and we would compare. What a fun idea. I love words, this is right up my alley. Part of me always questions the safety of this. He told me his daughter pokes fun at him for being OCD and being so tidy. I'm curious as to how tidy. At some point in time, I'm going to be alone with him in his house. If someone is that concerned about neatness, he'd never risk bloodshed in his living room.
His house- When he described himself as OCD, he was right. Things are orderly and carefully arranged.. He already made it clear that no one else is allowed to clean his home office. Not a problem for me. I love being told I'm not allowed to clean something. And then he showed me his closet. I've heard of people arranging their closet by color, but I've never seen it done before. Pants, all arranged in order. Long sleeved shirts, by color. A separate section for polos, by color. Even the section of shirts that needed to go to the cleaners were hung up. Really? Now I'm not sure I want to show him my house. I can unclutter but I'm definitely not opening my closet doors.
The list- It was partly accurate and partly bullshit. I'm mean, seriously, why else would he start off with beautiful? Remember, he saw a pic online and spoke to me on the phone at that point. But it's nice to read ten positive words someone thinks about you. Everyone needs an ego boost like that once in a while.
The conversation- So this is the rip tide part. Somehow, the conversation got intense. But it wasn't in a direct or intimidating way. It was a comment like, "in 90 days, we'll write those lists again but we can't use any of the words we used the first time". That's three months. He's picturing us together in three months. Then travel discussion turned into- if we're still together, we should take a cruise together this summer. Now we're planning vacations? If you're thinking, "isn't this what she wanted?", you're right. But now that it's here, I'm a little freaked out. Come on, it's been two dates. How did I get from coffee to a cruise? And talk of food he'll have me try in Peru, and meeting his sister, in Peru. Holy crap. I don't actually freak out in front of him, but my mind races as I'm driving home. I try to picture some of what was mentioned. Then I feel trapped, like I don't have control of where this is going. Then I try to tell myself that it is ok to let go and allow this to happen. I take a deep breath and think calm thoughts. I review what has been said. How did I get here? Panic creeps in and it feels like it is happening too fast. It sort of feels like what happened when I started seeing Ken. It was a whirlwind and seemed to get serious too quickly. I know that hindsight is 20/20 but I can't help that feeling of fear creeping towards me. But what has really happened? Nothing has happened and I'm blowing this out of proportion. All of this talk is exactly that; just talk. Talk is cheap. It's not like I've been offered to schedule a vacation.
The good stuff-He asked if he could kiss me. He even confessed he was feeling a little nervous. After we had mentioned a few times how comfortable it was to be with each other, this was unexpected. How sweet. Well, apparently, those nerves were short lived. We were making out like teenagers in no time. I won't go into details for two reasons. As an adult, it's poor form. And because I know that in reality, my mom is reading this.
He also brought up his profile on the website. He told me, without asking anything of me, that he would stop emailing anyone he had been in contact with on the site. His preference is to focus on one thing at a time. He felt it was the only way to handle getting to know someone. And he specifically said he wasn't asking me to do the same, but did ask what I intended to do. I could honestly tell him that I wasn't communicating with anyone else. But I wasn't sure how I would handle It's Just Lunch. Who knows when they would call next? But with my luck, I'm expecting a call from them any minute.
Upcoming tests- We're planning on having lunch before the Super Bowl. (He has a party to go with friends, and it's a guys only thing.) It's his turn to drive. That means I'll show him my house. Will he be appalled? He might open a kitchen cabinet or see where I keep my shoes (in a pile on the floor of the closet); will that send him running for the hills? He did have dogs before, so I'm not so worried about the dog toys on the floor. He knows about all the dogs. But I never mentioned about which ones sleep in bed. I haven't broken it to him that I don't make my bed. I mean, I'll make it on the day he is coming to my house. But Tally likes to un-make the bed. Why bother? When he told me about his Yorkies (he doesn't have any right now), he asked if I would ever consider having a lab. Now we're talking about our future dogs? This is where I start to hyperventilate. So now I have a week to pretend like my house is always clean and organized. I work really hard to not have clutter in my house, but it's an ongoing battle.
The other ongoing concern: he's an early morning person. Like 4:30. In the morning. Or as most of us refer to it- the middle of the night. One of the texts he sent was at 5 am. Who sends texts at 5 am, unless you're in college and just coming home? I'm not even sure I'm capable of complete sentences at 5 in the morning. This might be what makes or breaks it. He goes to bed on weeknights around 8:30-9. Sometimes I going to the gym then. I keep telling myself I don't have to worry about this right now. And I'm not going to worry about anything as long as he keeps calling me princess.
Friday, January 24, 2014
The Odds of Playing Cards
Last weekend I had the luxury of catching up with some long time friends that I've met through Girl Scouts. And by long time, two of them I met when I was 19. These women get together one weekend in January each year to reconnect and have fun. Usually I join them for dinner and a few hours to avoid the hassle of dog sitters, sleeping in a cot, and sharing a bathroom. Each year we end up playing Spoons. To play, you need two decks of cards and a spoon for every player minus one. You start with four cards. Everyone passes one card to the person next to you until someone gets four of a kind. That person grabs a spoon. Everyone else tries to grab a spoon. The person without a spoon gets a letter like in Horse, but this time we're spelling....wait for it....Spoons. To clarify, grab a spoon means frantically and forcefully get a spoon as quickly as possible which might involve grabbing it from someone else or diving onto the floor. Or the table. Hilarity ensues. I am happy to say after about two hours of playing, my sides hurt from laughing and I only had an 's'. On the way home, I had time to think. I didn't really get a chance to recap the year with my closest friend of the group. What would I have told her? I would have mentioned my brother's visit in October and that he might be home for good in the next year. We would have discussed my parents health and that their house isn't on the market, as opposed to last year when that was the big news. I am sure I would have made humorous comments about dating and my social life. And I would have mentioned a family member- but if I've learned nothing else, I'm not going to mention anything on the internet about it.
Somehow, in the hour on the way home, I was thinking about the mathematical odds of getting four of a kind when there are 104 cards. I wasn't able to do that math, mind you, but the concept crossed my mind. Then I started thinking about statistics in general. What is the probability that I find a long term, lasting relationship? I'm not really sure what the odds are, but I'm sure they are stacked against me. I can face facts- I'm over 40, I have a lot of dogs, moving would be a challenge because no district would consider hiring me (I have too many credits and too much experience!), and I have a lot of dogs. And I haven't even touched on my personality which is high maintenance but I think it is low maintenance, sarcastic, independent that might come off as aloof, and demanding. Wow, I sound like a dream girl! Who wouldn't want that?
So what if that is the case? What if it's me and the dogs for the rest of my life? By now, we all know there were tears. What good is a drive at midnight in the middle of nowhere on a cold January night without a few tears? But by the time I got home, I realized it wouldn't be so bad. I would rather that than being miserable with the wrong person. Maybe the cold had frozen my brain.
So against my better judgment, I have kept my profile on plenty of fish open. The email I get of someone who wants to "meet me" have been amusing if nothing else. Apparently I attract a lot of day laborers who like motorcycle and fishing, and want to avoid drama. For real, pictures showing a person holding a fish or a pic of just some motorcycle- as if that should impress me. I don't have a picture of my Rav4 there. Every once in a long while, I'll get an email. If it is anything more than "hi", which happens more often than not, I'll respond. Often the person is hours away and it's easy to say no thanks. But even more against my better judgment, I think I'm meeting someone for coffee on Sunday. Details aren't confirmed, but he seems eager. Which makes me skeptical. How many times have I said I just want someone to pay attention to me, and then this guy texts me a bunch of times and now he is needy. I guess I think it's weird because I haven't actually spoken to him on the phone. But I will this weekend. And the optimist in me has returned. Especially because has more than a high school diploma and he might be able to figure out the statistics of getting four of a kind with 104 cards.
Somehow, in the hour on the way home, I was thinking about the mathematical odds of getting four of a kind when there are 104 cards. I wasn't able to do that math, mind you, but the concept crossed my mind. Then I started thinking about statistics in general. What is the probability that I find a long term, lasting relationship? I'm not really sure what the odds are, but I'm sure they are stacked against me. I can face facts- I'm over 40, I have a lot of dogs, moving would be a challenge because no district would consider hiring me (I have too many credits and too much experience!), and I have a lot of dogs. And I haven't even touched on my personality which is high maintenance but I think it is low maintenance, sarcastic, independent that might come off as aloof, and demanding. Wow, I sound like a dream girl! Who wouldn't want that?
So what if that is the case? What if it's me and the dogs for the rest of my life? By now, we all know there were tears. What good is a drive at midnight in the middle of nowhere on a cold January night without a few tears? But by the time I got home, I realized it wouldn't be so bad. I would rather that than being miserable with the wrong person. Maybe the cold had frozen my brain.
So against my better judgment, I have kept my profile on plenty of fish open. The email I get of someone who wants to "meet me" have been amusing if nothing else. Apparently I attract a lot of day laborers who like motorcycle and fishing, and want to avoid drama. For real, pictures showing a person holding a fish or a pic of just some motorcycle- as if that should impress me. I don't have a picture of my Rav4 there. Every once in a long while, I'll get an email. If it is anything more than "hi", which happens more often than not, I'll respond. Often the person is hours away and it's easy to say no thanks. But even more against my better judgment, I think I'm meeting someone for coffee on Sunday. Details aren't confirmed, but he seems eager. Which makes me skeptical. How many times have I said I just want someone to pay attention to me, and then this guy texts me a bunch of times and now he is needy. I guess I think it's weird because I haven't actually spoken to him on the phone. But I will this weekend. And the optimist in me has returned. Especially because has more than a high school diploma and he might be able to figure out the statistics of getting four of a kind with 104 cards.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
What are you supposed to say when....
A couple days ago, I had a friend tell me the latest happenings from someone I had a couple dates with about ten years ago. (Geez, was it really that long ago?) She had set us up and when he 'freaked out' and stopped calling me, she was embarrassed. She vowed never to mention his name to me. Until the following summer when I won a cruise for two to Bermuda, she said she would make sure he heard about that. That was ok.
Fast forward to last week. Her husband works with his mom, so his name got mentioned. Too hard to follow? The important part is that I got to hear about Sean. We dated about two months. After he dropped off the face of the earth, apparently he was laid off from his job, found a new job, met someone there and married her three months later. Turns out she was an alcoholic, lost her job and they re-located to Florida where they were both drinking heavily. There were more jobs and more drinking, and somehow in all this, he cut off the relationship with his mom. How am I supposed to respond to that?
Part of me felt sad for him. No one wants to hear about someone who loses contact with their family or is bordering on alcoholism. He was ambitious and loved his job. It was an attractive quality about him.
Part of me went through the thought process of: if he stayed with me, could I have saved him from this? I don't drink much. I've never lost a job. Would that have influenced him differently? This same part wondered why he didn't want to marry me. I knew he had been engaged in Florida before moving to Pennsylvania. I knew that break up wasn't his choice. But he obviously wasn't that afraid of marriage. It's dawning on me now that I was a rebound date. And by 'now', I mean right this second. All this time I thought it was me. Well, it was still me, but the rebound part means it wasn't entirely me. I can share blame a little.
And then part of me thought, "it serves him right." Was it karma making him feel bad for making me feel bad? He did deserve to feel bad. First there was the part that he lied to me. Then I felt foolish for thinking things were still ok and I left him two messages because I thought he was just busy. Then I felt even more foolish when I accepted the fact I was being blown off.
So let this be a lesson. Single men- can you risk losing your job and your family and becoming an alcoholic by blowing me off? That might not really be the lesson in this, but that's what I'm sticking to right now.
Fast forward to last week. Her husband works with his mom, so his name got mentioned. Too hard to follow? The important part is that I got to hear about Sean. We dated about two months. After he dropped off the face of the earth, apparently he was laid off from his job, found a new job, met someone there and married her three months later. Turns out she was an alcoholic, lost her job and they re-located to Florida where they were both drinking heavily. There were more jobs and more drinking, and somehow in all this, he cut off the relationship with his mom. How am I supposed to respond to that?
Part of me felt sad for him. No one wants to hear about someone who loses contact with their family or is bordering on alcoholism. He was ambitious and loved his job. It was an attractive quality about him.
Part of me went through the thought process of: if he stayed with me, could I have saved him from this? I don't drink much. I've never lost a job. Would that have influenced him differently? This same part wondered why he didn't want to marry me. I knew he had been engaged in Florida before moving to Pennsylvania. I knew that break up wasn't his choice. But he obviously wasn't that afraid of marriage. It's dawning on me now that I was a rebound date. And by 'now', I mean right this second. All this time I thought it was me. Well, it was still me, but the rebound part means it wasn't entirely me. I can share blame a little.
And then part of me thought, "it serves him right." Was it karma making him feel bad for making me feel bad? He did deserve to feel bad. First there was the part that he lied to me. Then I felt foolish for thinking things were still ok and I left him two messages because I thought he was just busy. Then I felt even more foolish when I accepted the fact I was being blown off.
So let this be a lesson. Single men- can you risk losing your job and your family and becoming an alcoholic by blowing me off? That might not really be the lesson in this, but that's what I'm sticking to right now.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Be Careful What You Wish For
While I think I want closure, I really don't. I used to think that I wanted a guy to have a set big enough to state that he didn't want to date me. Yeah, I don't want that anymore. It usually makes me mad, and my response is all kinds of not nice, sarcastic (although funny) comments. In my head. The end result is while I amuse myself, I'm still pissed.
Since I ended up with contact info from Ned (yes, I immediately think "Flanders"), I emailed him. It was a casual, 'hey, here's my cell if you want to get together'. I didn't really, but thought I'd consider it as a second chance if he initiated. It took him five days to respond. Really?? Come on now. The signature line from his email indicated that his first name is Edwin. And he chose to go by Ned? Does he know he picked a dorky option? That can only mean one thing. He is a dork and deserves to be thought of as Ned Flanders.
He did have enough sense to start with a compliment about he enjoyed meeting me, liked our conversation, blah, blah, blah. Then he goes on write that he hasn't been married before and saw his parents go through messy divorces that ended up involving him. Yeah, I'm sure that sucks. Poor form on the part of your parents, but be a big boy and get over it. And now that part that floors me. So he wants to find someone who hasn't been married before to start their life together or some such bullshit. Yeah, good luck with that. Dude, in your 40s, the ones that haven't been married before, in most cases, haven't been married before for a reason. They're weird. Or crazy. Or still pining for someone from high school; the one that got away. You aren't going to want them either. But OK, you keep looking for that. Maybe I'll email you a year from now and see how that worked for you.
The part of me that is bitchy and likes to tell on people wants to email the dating coordinator. So I can tell on him. If he stated that he didn't want to date someone who has been married before, then they set me up poorly. And if he didn't state that to them, he either lied to me or lied to me. Either way, I want them to know this isn't my fault. Maybe I'll casually email my availability and slip that little tidbit in at the end. Yeah, that sounds like me. Of course, they'll have to add "bitchy tattletale" to my description, but we all knew that.
Time heals all wounds. I know I'll feel the need for closure again. I'm sure the thought will enter my mind. The idea of knowing, the certainty, will have an appeal so provocative. I won't be able to resist and I will think, "I just want to know". It's like an addiction you just can't resist. So I can't promise that I won't wish for it again. Equally, I can't promise that it won't piss me off. It will. And I'll still have witty comments, even if I'm the only one who hears them.
Since I ended up with contact info from Ned (yes, I immediately think "Flanders"), I emailed him. It was a casual, 'hey, here's my cell if you want to get together'. I didn't really, but thought I'd consider it as a second chance if he initiated. It took him five days to respond. Really?? Come on now. The signature line from his email indicated that his first name is Edwin. And he chose to go by Ned? Does he know he picked a dorky option? That can only mean one thing. He is a dork and deserves to be thought of as Ned Flanders.
He did have enough sense to start with a compliment about he enjoyed meeting me, liked our conversation, blah, blah, blah. Then he goes on write that he hasn't been married before and saw his parents go through messy divorces that ended up involving him. Yeah, I'm sure that sucks. Poor form on the part of your parents, but be a big boy and get over it. And now that part that floors me. So he wants to find someone who hasn't been married before to start their life together or some such bullshit. Yeah, good luck with that. Dude, in your 40s, the ones that haven't been married before, in most cases, haven't been married before for a reason. They're weird. Or crazy. Or still pining for someone from high school; the one that got away. You aren't going to want them either. But OK, you keep looking for that. Maybe I'll email you a year from now and see how that worked for you.
The part of me that is bitchy and likes to tell on people wants to email the dating coordinator. So I can tell on him. If he stated that he didn't want to date someone who has been married before, then they set me up poorly. And if he didn't state that to them, he either lied to me or lied to me. Either way, I want them to know this isn't my fault. Maybe I'll casually email my availability and slip that little tidbit in at the end. Yeah, that sounds like me. Of course, they'll have to add "bitchy tattletale" to my description, but we all knew that.
Time heals all wounds. I know I'll feel the need for closure again. I'm sure the thought will enter my mind. The idea of knowing, the certainty, will have an appeal so provocative. I won't be able to resist and I will think, "I just want to know". It's like an addiction you just can't resist. So I can't promise that I won't wish for it again. Equally, I can't promise that it won't piss me off. It will. And I'll still have witty comments, even if I'm the only one who hears them.
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