Crisis is a relative term. In my work with seventh and eighth graders, their definition of crisis is very different from the rest of the world. Crisis for them is their best friend isn't talking to them. Or another girl likes your boyfriend (that you've dated for an entire two weeks in a row), is trying to steal him away, and is telling everyone in school that you are a skank. For me, my crisis is about my hair.
My appointment for cut and color was timed perfectly. I carefully scheduled the appointment two days before the due date of the girl who does my hair and knows how picky I am. I mean, how often does a first time mom deliver early anyway? Coincidently, this was the day before my date. You can't ask for more perfect timing. Except that she delivered early. Which left me in my living room, screaming, "Why? WHY? Why do bad things happen to me?" OK, not really. But I was bummed. (Mom and baby are doing fine; I'm not a total, uncaring bitch.) The earliest time I could get an appointment was Saturday morning. That doesn't help me look fabulous for my date. Who wants to go on a date with grey roots, especially a first date? We all try to hide things like that until at least date 5 or 6. I know that real people don't notice the grey as much I do. And I know that boys probably have less of a chance of noticing anything about hair color. But that doesn't change the fact that I know the the grey is there. Like I said, crisis.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Reasoning
If I send you a text, you have two reasons for not texting me back within twelve hours. 1. You are dead. 2. You are maimed in some horrible accident that has involved amputation of both hands. Those are the only reasons. If it isn't one of those two reasons, you are dead to me. There is even a little leeway if you choose to call instead of texting. I'm flexible like that. And I knew it was going to take FG more than 72 hours to get in touch with me after returning from his week of sitting in Canada while holding a fishing pole. Yes, I know there was some casting and reeling in fish involved, but mostly I imagine sitting and holding a pole the majority of the time. All that translates to the beginning of the end. He either really doesn't want to be dating, or he doesn't want to be dating me.
Friday marks the return of my optimism. I'm optimistic that this time might be the time that things go well. I'm optimistic that I will look cute and appealing and not desperate. I imagine witty conversation without nervous laughter or awkward silence. I can picture myself driving home while grinning. You know, that goofy grin of a good date. My long term goals aside, right about now, I could use just one good date.
Friday marks the return of my optimism. I'm optimistic that this time might be the time that things go well. I'm optimistic that I will look cute and appealing and not desperate. I imagine witty conversation without nervous laughter or awkward silence. I can picture myself driving home while grinning. You know, that goofy grin of a good date. My long term goals aside, right about now, I could use just one good date.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Now is the time
This is my season for dating. And by that, I mean what I'm wearing. Yes, apparently I am that shallow. This is the season for long sleeves, but not sweaters. Pants or jeans but no need for snow boots. No need for bulky layers for warmth or flimsy fabrics to stay cool. It's the perfect camouflage for any self consciousness. I can order a drink without worrying about the condensation dripping on me when I take a sip. And yes, I've thought of that. While I still might get very red from a drink, as evidenced by the familiar flush after a few sips of wine last week, I can escape from the drippy-ness of summer drinking.
And this weather is perfect timing for another date. So Lisa, the Dating Un-Coordinator, has a chance to redeem herself. And it starts by that fact I don't have to drive into Philly. This place will still be an hour or so with traffic, but it's not the Schuylkill. Of course, I've investigated the restaurant, it's menu and the directions for next Friday. Not two days from now, but a week and two days from now. My eternal optimism is piqued again.
Details are again sketchy. Chris, graphic design and technology, 49, blue eyes, blonde-ish hair, likes travel, arts, music, museums, and has a good relationship with his family. Sounds great. As long as he shows up.
And this weather is perfect timing for another date. So Lisa, the Dating Un-Coordinator, has a chance to redeem herself. And it starts by that fact I don't have to drive into Philly. This place will still be an hour or so with traffic, but it's not the Schuylkill. Of course, I've investigated the restaurant, it's menu and the directions for next Friday. Not two days from now, but a week and two days from now. My eternal optimism is piqued again.
Details are again sketchy. Chris, graphic design and technology, 49, blue eyes, blonde-ish hair, likes travel, arts, music, museums, and has a good relationship with his family. Sounds great. As long as he shows up.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
A week off
So FG is off for a week of fishing in Canada. I'm open to a lot of things. While you'll never catch me gutting a fish, I get the whole fishing concept. I think I could even do the "sit on a boat and hold a fishing rod" as long as I didn't have to touch bait or fish or fish guts. Except that it normally starts before the crack of dawn which is not my idea of vacation. And then I found out this whole excursion is an entire week of catch and release. A week on a boat and you throw everything back. I really don't get that.
If I hadn't called with a 'have a nice trip' conversation, I doubt he would have called me before he left. Not his style, especially since it sounded like they were less than prepared to leave for the trip. If they get cell reception, he mumbled something about calling. I'm not betting on that happening either. So the next little experiment is to see how long it takes him to call me when he gets back. I'm guessing a full 72 hours. At least.
So I get a week off from wondering. Wondering if he will call, if we are getting together (dare I say going on a date?), if he is going to try more than a quick kiss. Instead I get to wonder what in hell has happened to my Dating Un-coordinator. Has she forgotten about me? More likely, has she scrounged up someone willing to meet me? Sadly, I think the answer to all of the above is a resounding no.
If I hadn't called with a 'have a nice trip' conversation, I doubt he would have called me before he left. Not his style, especially since it sounded like they were less than prepared to leave for the trip. If they get cell reception, he mumbled something about calling. I'm not betting on that happening either. So the next little experiment is to see how long it takes him to call me when he gets back. I'm guessing a full 72 hours. At least.
So I get a week off from wondering. Wondering if he will call, if we are getting together (dare I say going on a date?), if he is going to try more than a quick kiss. Instead I get to wonder what in hell has happened to my Dating Un-coordinator. Has she forgotten about me? More likely, has she scrounged up someone willing to meet me? Sadly, I think the answer to all of the above is a resounding no.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
High Maintenance
I can admit I'm high maintenance. I'm demanding, impatient and I want a lot of attention. Not attention in a "look at me" way, but rather I want someone to call me, pamper me, include me in their life and fawn over me. That's not too much to ask, right? Alas, not everyone has the same idea as me regarding this.
So as FG progresses at the rate of a mutant snail, I'm ready to spout off about moving things along. I tried to talk to him in the car last night, but he seemed uneasy. I value my life and know enough not to distract someone driving. I didn't really get to the heart of my questions. What is he waiting for? I'm not getting any younger, time is a-wasting, and let's face it: I'm a catch. (Why am I the only one who feels that way?)
I plan this conversation in my head when I can't fall asleep at night. I want to ask him if he really wants to be dating? He stated he is set in his ways. So am I, but I want someone in my life. I'm not sure he does. He tells me all kinds of plans that he has but never mentions me joining him. Soon, it will be time to scout for deer (or something like that). Alone. He seems fine to do everything by himself. I know habits you've done for 20+ years are hard to break. But I don't get the impression he wants to break any of them. I want to ask him if he is attracted to me. He seems to hug everyone else without an issue, but barely connects when he kisses me goodnight. I want to ask him if he wants to spend more time with me. Except, I'm not sure I want to hear the answer to that. Really, I want to know if he sees himself married. And more importantly, does he see himself buying large, sparkly jewelry?
I did get a few answers. Very few. Twice he was dating someone, then found out she was dating someone else. Yeah, been there and it sucks. But I like to think I took less than 20 years to get over it. I also learned that he still interrupts me so it must not be nerves. As we talked about the size of extended family, I was mid-sentence when he started talking again. I hadn't paused for effect, I was in the middle of talking. That means he totally wasn't listening to the words coming out of my mouth. After that I wasn't listening to the words coming out of his mouth either because all I could think about was saying, "Oh, I'm sorry. Did the middle of my sentence interrupt you?"
And I met a co-worker, K, last night. I'm sure he had the hots for her. He still might. She has perfected flirting in a non-flirting way and he was hanging on her every word. When they were both single, he told me they went out for drinks, went to lunch, were each others' dates for company parties but never dated. Blah, blah, blah. So last night, when she switched her drink to vodka, she set her newly opened bottle in front of him and cooed, "FG, finish this beer for me." Ugh, <gag>. Then he did. They aren't in the same office anymore from what I gathered. I don't really understand the hierarchy of his work yet, but I have to admit that fact isn't terribly upsetting.
All this high maintenance really boils down to one thing. I want someone who wants to be with me. When we're home from work, it would be nice for someone to be happy to see me, hear about my day, rub my neck as I complain about dumb stuff like kids that don't do their homework and parents who have no control over their kids. My dogs do all that, except the neck rub part. Can a man be trained to do the same? (There are two things holding me back from training my dogs on the neck rub part- I don't have enough treats and they don't have thumbs.) I want someone who knows that it's a huge deal when I bake a pie for you. I want someone to miss me when I'm not with them. And I can't stand the thought that he might not.
So as FG progresses at the rate of a mutant snail, I'm ready to spout off about moving things along. I tried to talk to him in the car last night, but he seemed uneasy. I value my life and know enough not to distract someone driving. I didn't really get to the heart of my questions. What is he waiting for? I'm not getting any younger, time is a-wasting, and let's face it: I'm a catch. (Why am I the only one who feels that way?)
I plan this conversation in my head when I can't fall asleep at night. I want to ask him if he really wants to be dating? He stated he is set in his ways. So am I, but I want someone in my life. I'm not sure he does. He tells me all kinds of plans that he has but never mentions me joining him. Soon, it will be time to scout for deer (or something like that). Alone. He seems fine to do everything by himself. I know habits you've done for 20+ years are hard to break. But I don't get the impression he wants to break any of them. I want to ask him if he is attracted to me. He seems to hug everyone else without an issue, but barely connects when he kisses me goodnight. I want to ask him if he wants to spend more time with me. Except, I'm not sure I want to hear the answer to that. Really, I want to know if he sees himself married. And more importantly, does he see himself buying large, sparkly jewelry?
I did get a few answers. Very few. Twice he was dating someone, then found out she was dating someone else. Yeah, been there and it sucks. But I like to think I took less than 20 years to get over it. I also learned that he still interrupts me so it must not be nerves. As we talked about the size of extended family, I was mid-sentence when he started talking again. I hadn't paused for effect, I was in the middle of talking. That means he totally wasn't listening to the words coming out of my mouth. After that I wasn't listening to the words coming out of his mouth either because all I could think about was saying, "Oh, I'm sorry. Did the middle of my sentence interrupt you?"
And I met a co-worker, K, last night. I'm sure he had the hots for her. He still might. She has perfected flirting in a non-flirting way and he was hanging on her every word. When they were both single, he told me they went out for drinks, went to lunch, were each others' dates for company parties but never dated. Blah, blah, blah. So last night, when she switched her drink to vodka, she set her newly opened bottle in front of him and cooed, "FG, finish this beer for me." Ugh, <gag>. Then he did. They aren't in the same office anymore from what I gathered. I don't really understand the hierarchy of his work yet, but I have to admit that fact isn't terribly upsetting.
All this high maintenance really boils down to one thing. I want someone who wants to be with me. When we're home from work, it would be nice for someone to be happy to see me, hear about my day, rub my neck as I complain about dumb stuff like kids that don't do their homework and parents who have no control over their kids. My dogs do all that, except the neck rub part. Can a man be trained to do the same? (There are two things holding me back from training my dogs on the neck rub part- I don't have enough treats and they don't have thumbs.) I want someone who knows that it's a huge deal when I bake a pie for you. I want someone to miss me when I'm not with them. And I can't stand the thought that he might not.
Thursday, September 5, 2013
A new development
I realize a blog is public. I'm not under some delusion that this is protected. I'm deluded about a lot of things, but not that. I don't think there isn't anything that I've posted that I wouldn't discuss in person. But I've been made to reconsider that for one main reason. I think my mom is reading my blog.
I share a lot about my life with my mom. We get along well and I can't say I hide anything from her. But for her sake and mine, I choose not to tell her everything. Let's be honest: there are some things moms just don't want to know. Like that time in high school when I...just kidding.
This revelation has made me reconsider. Are there posts that I need to delete? No. Are there tidbits I would normally blog but now will hesitate? Hmmmm. Possibly. There is one easy solution to this dilemma. Mom, stop reading this. I will tell you about my dates, excluding what I deem necessary for the sanity of each of us. And if you don't stop reading, at least remove the tab on your ipad that shows you were on this site. That way, we'll just pretend you've stopped. And we'll never speak of this again. We'll both be happier that way.
I share a lot about my life with my mom. We get along well and I can't say I hide anything from her. But for her sake and mine, I choose not to tell her everything. Let's be honest: there are some things moms just don't want to know. Like that time in high school when I...just kidding.
This revelation has made me reconsider. Are there posts that I need to delete? No. Are there tidbits I would normally blog but now will hesitate? Hmmmm. Possibly. There is one easy solution to this dilemma. Mom, stop reading this. I will tell you about my dates, excluding what I deem necessary for the sanity of each of us. And if you don't stop reading, at least remove the tab on your ipad that shows you were on this site. That way, we'll just pretend you've stopped. And we'll never speak of this again. We'll both be happier that way.
Sunday, September 1, 2013
Hold on
Two dates in one week. Dinner on Thursday and a picnic on Saturday. Can you believe it?
Vietnamese food, three hours at the restaurant and I still felt a bit ambivalent. We discussed some favorites like movies and music. I'm learning things. Some things are confirmed and some I'm extrapolating. I don't think he likes to share food. But I made him. The restaurant has great veggie rolls- lettuce, carrots, sprouts and some other stringy, crunchy bits wrapped up in rice paper. The sauce is the best part. It's a peanut dipping sauce. Really the veggies are just the vehicle for sauce. So when the waitress asked if we wanted an appetizer, I basically told him we were splitting them. And since there were two of them, it wasn't tough to split them and spoon the sauce on each bite. But then the entrees came. I offered up a taste of mine right away. We discussed the flavors and he described his meal. Only then did he ask if I wanted to try his. His was duck so I really only wanted to taste the sauce so I picked a piece of broccoli. At the end of the evening, we stood outside the restaurant to say goodbyes. It's tough to get busy in front of everyone enjoying their fro yo.
During dinner, he invited me to a work picnic. Well, it felt more like his work/hunting buddy invited me. I knew I had a birthday party for my favorite five year old twins but also knew it would be completely understood if I ducked out early for a date. Getting FG is provide some info about the picnic was about as easy as getting info from a teen who just got caught. The attendees were easy questions, dress code a bit more challenging. We had to define capri pants, but he still didn't know what women would be wearing. We talked more about him wanting to get a peach pie as his contribution than examples of the important things--should I wear pants, shorts, casual dress? I nailed down that I was going to wear shorts (and pray for a break in the humidity).
I'm starting to learn that you don't get what you don't ask for. Friday morning- day before the picnic- I'm driving home from Lancaster along Rt. 23 hitting every farm stand between New Holland and Morgantown. At my last stop, I picked up some seconds of peaches. It was the only place that had seconds, but it was only a small basket. So I call FG to see if he found his peach pie. Then I offer to make a peach pie. And he responds, "if you want to." Seriously? Someone offers to make you a pie and you say if you want to??? After we went through that series twice, I finally said, "this is where you say that would be lovely". And he did. A light bulb moment for me and hopefully for him. Now we wait to see if this learning experiment is permanent. And on Saturday I made a pie.
The picnic was fun. Well, as much fun as you can have when you only know one person. A little anxiety which I try to hide by wiggling my toes. I would have felt much more at ease with a drink but the risk of red face--not worth it. The host couple was so welcoming and hospitable. I got a gator ride and there were only three times I thought we were going to tip. Without being overwhelming, most of the women who work with FG made a point to question me. . I saw enough stuffed wildlife and skins of various mammals for about a decade. But it was a nice group and I didn't sweat much. Success.
When he dropped me off, I told him he had to get out of the car if give me a proper goodbye. He chuckled. Then he did. We progressed to a kiss on the lips. He still hesitates a bit, but I'm thinking we need to just get tanked and make out and get it over with.
I think I can source the ambivalence. It's my protection mechanism. If I'm ambivalent, then I can't get hurt. And I can't be blamed if it doesn't work out and he gets hurt.
I find that I am analyzing conversations and tucking away little tidbits to bring up later. It's like an odd cat and mouse game. I'm curious but I'm afraid that if I question FG right away, I'll spook him. So some time later, I'll ask him what he meant when he said that other people wanted to set him up. Didn't he want to be set up? Did they give him her number and he never did anything? What did he mean when he told the hostess I don't mind hugs as we said our farewells for the evenings. Does that mean he does mind hugs? But she just gave him a hug? I have a lot of questions. I want to ask him about previous relationships. How long ago and how long were they? What are his deal breakers? What are mine? I have a lot of questions that remain unanswered.
Vietnamese food, three hours at the restaurant and I still felt a bit ambivalent. We discussed some favorites like movies and music. I'm learning things. Some things are confirmed and some I'm extrapolating. I don't think he likes to share food. But I made him. The restaurant has great veggie rolls- lettuce, carrots, sprouts and some other stringy, crunchy bits wrapped up in rice paper. The sauce is the best part. It's a peanut dipping sauce. Really the veggies are just the vehicle for sauce. So when the waitress asked if we wanted an appetizer, I basically told him we were splitting them. And since there were two of them, it wasn't tough to split them and spoon the sauce on each bite. But then the entrees came. I offered up a taste of mine right away. We discussed the flavors and he described his meal. Only then did he ask if I wanted to try his. His was duck so I really only wanted to taste the sauce so I picked a piece of broccoli. At the end of the evening, we stood outside the restaurant to say goodbyes. It's tough to get busy in front of everyone enjoying their fro yo.
During dinner, he invited me to a work picnic. Well, it felt more like his work/hunting buddy invited me. I knew I had a birthday party for my favorite five year old twins but also knew it would be completely understood if I ducked out early for a date. Getting FG is provide some info about the picnic was about as easy as getting info from a teen who just got caught. The attendees were easy questions, dress code a bit more challenging. We had to define capri pants, but he still didn't know what women would be wearing. We talked more about him wanting to get a peach pie as his contribution than examples of the important things--should I wear pants, shorts, casual dress? I nailed down that I was going to wear shorts (and pray for a break in the humidity).
I'm starting to learn that you don't get what you don't ask for. Friday morning- day before the picnic- I'm driving home from Lancaster along Rt. 23 hitting every farm stand between New Holland and Morgantown. At my last stop, I picked up some seconds of peaches. It was the only place that had seconds, but it was only a small basket. So I call FG to see if he found his peach pie. Then I offer to make a peach pie. And he responds, "if you want to." Seriously? Someone offers to make you a pie and you say if you want to??? After we went through that series twice, I finally said, "this is where you say that would be lovely". And he did. A light bulb moment for me and hopefully for him. Now we wait to see if this learning experiment is permanent. And on Saturday I made a pie.
The picnic was fun. Well, as much fun as you can have when you only know one person. A little anxiety which I try to hide by wiggling my toes. I would have felt much more at ease with a drink but the risk of red face--not worth it. The host couple was so welcoming and hospitable. I got a gator ride and there were only three times I thought we were going to tip. Without being overwhelming, most of the women who work with FG made a point to question me. . I saw enough stuffed wildlife and skins of various mammals for about a decade. But it was a nice group and I didn't sweat much. Success.
When he dropped me off, I told him he had to get out of the car if give me a proper goodbye. He chuckled. Then he did. We progressed to a kiss on the lips. He still hesitates a bit, but I'm thinking we need to just get tanked and make out and get it over with.
I think I can source the ambivalence. It's my protection mechanism. If I'm ambivalent, then I can't get hurt. And I can't be blamed if it doesn't work out and he gets hurt.
I find that I am analyzing conversations and tucking away little tidbits to bring up later. It's like an odd cat and mouse game. I'm curious but I'm afraid that if I question FG right away, I'll spook him. So some time later, I'll ask him what he meant when he said that other people wanted to set him up. Didn't he want to be set up? Did they give him her number and he never did anything? What did he mean when he told the hostess I don't mind hugs as we said our farewells for the evenings. Does that mean he does mind hugs? But she just gave him a hug? I have a lot of questions. I want to ask him about previous relationships. How long ago and how long were they? What are his deal breakers? What are mine? I have a lot of questions that remain unanswered.
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