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.
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