My family has a lot of inside jokes. "Whelmed" is one of them. Basically, if you aren't really OVERwhelmed, but are still coping with challenge, you're "whelmed."
On Friday, I was overwhelmed. Today, I'm just whelmed. See, I spent last week moving. Specifically, I spent it moving in with GB, my beau. And I'm not done yet. This is one of those moves where I had to specifically hold every little tiny hair clip, paper scrap, old T-shirt, etc, and decide if it was something I NEEDED TO KEEP. Then I had to look at it again and decide (if I'm not keeping it) HOW to get rid of it most effectively and responsibly (if I'm keeping it) whether it goes in storage or into the limited space of GB's 1-bedroom, no-living room apartment.
Plus there are two teenage cats with NO PARENTAL GUIDANCE living in parts of the house, and there's a hard-headed old alpha dog who MUST HERD CATS. So it's been a bit of a challenge carving out ways for MY cat to transition into the space. As it is, the cats are kept separate for now, but every time my kitty gets off the bed, the dog walks around a half-step behind her and looms with intent to play. She is not amused. Nor is she willing to offer up her butt for daily doggy inspection. The dog is very worried. Not only is he the only one in the household NOT allowed on the bed, but he hasn't gotten to sniff the cat's butt yet today.
The other two hellcats? A little after midnight they tried to jump from my computer keyboard across to the one 5x5 inch empty space on the top of my shelf unit. And knocked everything else off the top of the shelf in the process. Loudly. And if I ever CATCH them (this is not exactly likely-- they are very fast), they will LEARN not to mess with mama. sigh...
The good news is that GB fixed me a yummy breakfast yesterday morning, even tho it wasn't Sunday yet. And he's been very patient with all the boxes and stuff that hasn't found a home yet. Also, nothing broke when the hellcats rearranged my desk and shelf after midnight last night. And I have 25 pounds of fresh kittylitter in the passenger seat of my car. This is a very good thing. Especially since it's still in its litter bag, and I'll be able to bring it into the house later this morning.
And, can I tell you, for all the times I've gotten internet service, not once has it been simple to connect my Macintosh to the internet. There has always been a special fee or a special website that I had to visit and get special instructions. But last night? GB plugged in my Mac, plugged the other end to the router, and VOILA! I had internet.
Oh, happy day!
Ok. Have to go. Mobbed by two hellcats and a very concerned hard-headed old alpha dog. For all the immediate challenges, I can't help believing that this year is going to be a great improvement on 2009. It was such a relief for last year to END! So-- here's to a year that is merely whelming, and not overly so. With a lot of happiness and success mixed in.
Showing posts with label ...men.... Show all posts
Showing posts with label ...men.... Show all posts
Sunday, January 3
Saturday, December 19
Seasonal Sustenance
I feel so lucky to be dating a man who actually asks ME to go Christmas shopping with HIM. And who is secure enough (and loves his niece enough) to spend a whole 20 minutes in the pink-and-girly plastic-toys-with-hair aisle at a large and busy store on a Friday Night while we agonize over which MyLittlePony is the right one to give a well-loved four-year-old. And then he bought her two.
Also, there are three cats snoozing on my bed right now. Mostly because I turned the heater on in my room, and cats like to be warm. The grey boys are all curled up together in a ball on one end, and Abbigale rests in majesty on her heated pet-pad with the flannel pillowcase on it (washable) at the other end. And there is a bit of half-hearted eyes-closed paw-licking going on, which is the very best kind, except when they take turns cleaning each other's faces.
AND I think I've nearly gotten my monthly expenses for the new year down to something that one might actually be able to pay with a part-time or lower-wage job. It gives me options. And hope. And if I DO get a job that actually pays me what I'm worth-- then I'll be able to pay off all those darn debts THAT MUCH FASTER!! Which is a very exciting possibility.
Why is it that Christmas has become a time of death-gripping our concentration on money, of all things?! I find that appalling. I also recently found my "just-in-case" box of little gifts I picked up here and there over the past three years because I thought somebody might like them. And that box is saving my bacon this Christmas. YAY for being so excited about giving that I randomly buy maybe someone would like this gifts, and then store them until a time when I have no money and lots of people who need to know I love them. YAY!!! (and if you don't get a little gifty from me this year, know I still love you anyway...)
And the best news of the season? When I move in with GB, I'll get to bring most of my kitchen gear with me. And he'll treat it with the same careful respect he treats HIS stuff. I can't wait to have access to my kitchen gear again!! YAY!
And finally? I'm in the midst of the second step of the three-step process one goes through to make their book ready for publication. THE SECOND STEP, PEOPLE. As soon as I've gotten a solid 50 pages-- the first 50 pages-- ready to go, I can start applying for agents again. AND EVEN EXPECT TO GET ONE. It's going to be so awesome to finally see this book in print.
Well, 2009 was the Year of Integration. I wonder what 2010 will bring. I hope it's the year I get solid in my career. That'd be nice. Or maybe it'll be the year of being Centered and Balanced. Or the year of fruitful beginnings? I like fruit. Especially apples and dried bananas.
Seasonal Sustenance. What's in YOUR stocking this year??
Also, there are three cats snoozing on my bed right now. Mostly because I turned the heater on in my room, and cats like to be warm. The grey boys are all curled up together in a ball on one end, and Abbigale rests in majesty on her heated pet-pad with the flannel pillowcase on it (washable) at the other end. And there is a bit of half-hearted eyes-closed paw-licking going on, which is the very best kind, except when they take turns cleaning each other's faces.
AND I think I've nearly gotten my monthly expenses for the new year down to something that one might actually be able to pay with a part-time or lower-wage job. It gives me options. And hope. And if I DO get a job that actually pays me what I'm worth-- then I'll be able to pay off all those darn debts THAT MUCH FASTER!! Which is a very exciting possibility.
Why is it that Christmas has become a time of death-gripping our concentration on money, of all things?! I find that appalling. I also recently found my "just-in-case" box of little gifts I picked up here and there over the past three years because I thought somebody might like them. And that box is saving my bacon this Christmas. YAY for being so excited about giving that I randomly buy maybe someone would like this gifts, and then store them until a time when I have no money and lots of people who need to know I love them. YAY!!! (and if you don't get a little gifty from me this year, know I still love you anyway...)
And the best news of the season? When I move in with GB, I'll get to bring most of my kitchen gear with me. And he'll treat it with the same careful respect he treats HIS stuff. I can't wait to have access to my kitchen gear again!! YAY!
And finally? I'm in the midst of the second step of the three-step process one goes through to make their book ready for publication. THE SECOND STEP, PEOPLE. As soon as I've gotten a solid 50 pages-- the first 50 pages-- ready to go, I can start applying for agents again. AND EVEN EXPECT TO GET ONE. It's going to be so awesome to finally see this book in print.
Well, 2009 was the Year of Integration. I wonder what 2010 will bring. I hope it's the year I get solid in my career. That'd be nice. Or maybe it'll be the year of being Centered and Balanced. Or the year of fruitful beginnings? I like fruit. Especially apples and dried bananas.
Seasonal Sustenance. What's in YOUR stocking this year??
Tuesday, July 14
Vulnerabilities
My copy of "Truth In Dating" by Susan M. Campbell went missing a couple of months ago, so I borrowed a copy from the library. Now it's due back because someone else put a hold on it. Probably someone I've recommended the book to. It's a really great book, for ANY person-to-person relationship, be it work, family, friends, or actual dating scenarios. I highly recommend it. Often.
So I'm sitting here contemplating the return trip to the library, and I flipped the book open to a page about being vulnerable. It's a very relevant page for me right now, because I've been feeling rather vulnerable the past few days for no reason I could find. I've also been trying to put my finger on a lingering concern I had yet to define in my dating relationship.
So what is my big vulnerability? Besides my fear of asking for more than someone has to give me? And why haven't I shared that with GB? What is it that's about ME, regardless of the relationship I'm in? Well-- I realize that I have a deep fear of being disposable. That I've started to resent the people who like to talk, but don't make time to listen. And I don't tend to share that bit of angst when it comes up. I know how important a good listener can be, and I am very very good at listening.
So many people in my world-- for the past twenty years or so-- They seek out my company when they are working on a big life change. When they need counsel or a leg up or just someone to listen and love them anyway. And when they get what they need to move forward with their lives, they spread their wings and fly away... until next time. That's part of why I finally opened an office. Why it's been so hard to give notice and close the office down again. I wanted to create a category in my life for the folks I support, so that I would be less likely to expect them to support me in return. It's not the way those relationships work.
It's a pattern I've known about for years, but I hadn't thought about it in a while. And I used to work hard at clarifying which were my fly-away friends, and which were my solid and constant friends who actually want to be there for ME on a regular basis, too. The folks who make time for me and appreciate more about me than my ability to support them. Because there is a lot more to me than the fact that I'm a good listener who helps others become the people they want to be. Guess I haven't paid enough attention to that lately.
From there I went back to thinking about my current relationship with GB. I realized that (from my perspective) my biggest function with him seems to be as a good listener, and as a catalyst for him to lead the life he has wanted to grow into for so long. And as much as I'm honored to fill that role for him, it makes me feel disposable. I'm just waiting for him to get what he needs and fly away like so many others do. And a big part of me wants to feel that the man I'm dating finds me interesting and fun and enjoyable and special for who I am and what I've done in my life-- and not just what I do for him. Anybody can listen.
Granted, I'm making a big assumption of what he likes or appreciates or even what he knows about me. But when my interest in watching "Warehouse 13" shocked him, because he was interested in it, too, and he hasn't been interested in watching anything else I like... I had to acknowledge just how little he does know (or find interesting) about me. And I'm not sure how to fix that. I mean, he's considerate, and observant, and works to remember any preferences I express. He's a good listener when I open my mouth and talk, and he's totally supportive when I let him know about a challenge I'm facing in my life. He respects me, and he appreciates my input. But that's the rub-- I share bits of his life with him... but I don't know how to get this awesome guy who I really like to share bits of my life with me. I think I'm pretty unique and have a lot of interesting stories to share, if given the opportunity. Clearly, it's something *I* have to work on. Making opportunities. And not just with GB.
For now, I've decided that a return to my original game plan of dating would be a good morale booster for me. And that's got to be my priority. Me. So when I go over to his place tonight, I'm going to wear the most outrageously "ME" clothing I own, (You are, by the way, reading the blog of a woman who wore poofy purple genie pants and a dragon medallion in high school, had a very tall "mohawk" buzz cut for a few months in college, cox'd for the West Poignt men's crew team, lived for several years as the perfect little Army Wife, has prophetic dreams, works as an Archival Librarian on a woman-run organic goat farm, and daydreams of riding motorcycles at high speeds.) and I'm going to bring a movie I want to watch for once! I'm going to be sassy and strong and demanding, and just get what I want for myself-- and let the boy worry about keeping up with me for a change. (--this was the original dating plan, btw) If he wants to stay with me, he's going to have to form functional relationship with ALL parts of who I am, prove he doesn't scare easy, and not just interact with the safe and supportive bits of me that I've been putting out there for him lately.
Yes, I'm pretty and sweet and I don't cheat, but there's a hell of a lot more to me than that!
...should be fun...
So I'm sitting here contemplating the return trip to the library, and I flipped the book open to a page about being vulnerable. It's a very relevant page for me right now, because I've been feeling rather vulnerable the past few days for no reason I could find. I've also been trying to put my finger on a lingering concern I had yet to define in my dating relationship.
So what is my big vulnerability? Besides my fear of asking for more than someone has to give me? And why haven't I shared that with GB? What is it that's about ME, regardless of the relationship I'm in? Well-- I realize that I have a deep fear of being disposable. That I've started to resent the people who like to talk, but don't make time to listen. And I don't tend to share that bit of angst when it comes up. I know how important a good listener can be, and I am very very good at listening.
So many people in my world-- for the past twenty years or so-- They seek out my company when they are working on a big life change. When they need counsel or a leg up or just someone to listen and love them anyway. And when they get what they need to move forward with their lives, they spread their wings and fly away... until next time. That's part of why I finally opened an office. Why it's been so hard to give notice and close the office down again. I wanted to create a category in my life for the folks I support, so that I would be less likely to expect them to support me in return. It's not the way those relationships work.
It's a pattern I've known about for years, but I hadn't thought about it in a while. And I used to work hard at clarifying which were my fly-away friends, and which were my solid and constant friends who actually want to be there for ME on a regular basis, too. The folks who make time for me and appreciate more about me than my ability to support them. Because there is a lot more to me than the fact that I'm a good listener who helps others become the people they want to be. Guess I haven't paid enough attention to that lately.
From there I went back to thinking about my current relationship with GB. I realized that (from my perspective) my biggest function with him seems to be as a good listener, and as a catalyst for him to lead the life he has wanted to grow into for so long. And as much as I'm honored to fill that role for him, it makes me feel disposable. I'm just waiting for him to get what he needs and fly away like so many others do. And a big part of me wants to feel that the man I'm dating finds me interesting and fun and enjoyable and special for who I am and what I've done in my life-- and not just what I do for him. Anybody can listen.
Granted, I'm making a big assumption of what he likes or appreciates or even what he knows about me. But when my interest in watching "Warehouse 13" shocked him, because he was interested in it, too, and he hasn't been interested in watching anything else I like... I had to acknowledge just how little he does know (or find interesting) about me. And I'm not sure how to fix that. I mean, he's considerate, and observant, and works to remember any preferences I express. He's a good listener when I open my mouth and talk, and he's totally supportive when I let him know about a challenge I'm facing in my life. He respects me, and he appreciates my input. But that's the rub-- I share bits of his life with him... but I don't know how to get this awesome guy who I really like to share bits of my life with me. I think I'm pretty unique and have a lot of interesting stories to share, if given the opportunity. Clearly, it's something *I* have to work on. Making opportunities. And not just with GB.
For now, I've decided that a return to my original game plan of dating would be a good morale booster for me. And that's got to be my priority. Me. So when I go over to his place tonight, I'm going to wear the most outrageously "ME" clothing I own, (You are, by the way, reading the blog of a woman who wore poofy purple genie pants and a dragon medallion in high school, had a very tall "mohawk" buzz cut for a few months in college, cox'd for the West Poignt men's crew team, lived for several years as the perfect little Army Wife, has prophetic dreams, works as an Archival Librarian on a woman-run organic goat farm, and daydreams of riding motorcycles at high speeds.) and I'm going to bring a movie I want to watch for once! I'm going to be sassy and strong and demanding, and just get what I want for myself-- and let the boy worry about keeping up with me for a change. (--this was the original dating plan, btw) If he wants to stay with me, he's going to have to form functional relationship with ALL parts of who I am, prove he doesn't scare easy, and not just interact with the safe and supportive bits of me that I've been putting out there for him lately.
Yes, I'm pretty and sweet and I don't cheat, but there's a hell of a lot more to me than that!
...should be fun...
Saturday, July 4
Smack me Gently
So GB and I decided we'd be sneaky and avoid yesterday's blistering heat by driving to the Gorge and going for a hike by the waterfalls, in the shade. Of course, when we got there, we realized that everyone else had the same idea, only earlier in the day, so there were no parking places left.
Now, I'd spent a whole 8 hours the previous day in a hot little office with buzzing flies, no a/c, and a terrible lot of accounts that needed settling. And then I worked on job applications until midnight, when a girl supposedly got abducted just below my bedroom window (or saved from her drunk-ass self-- in this neighborhood, it could go either way, or it could be one of the local crazy men-- the one who likes to ride his bike and sing in falsetto at the top of his lungs, for example).
Anyway, there was frantic screaming of "don't touch me, you hurt me" followed by the slam of a car door, an engine driving away, and then silence. And apparently, I'm the only person in the whole freaking neighborhood who didn't have a functional fan that night and/or wasn't drunk out of their skull, so nobody else I've asked had heard the woman scream. At 1am, a neighbor lady I know went into her back yard, sang a little ditty about the cat and the fiddle, and then went back inside. I think that's what finally let me sleep. The neighborlady singing happily to herself in her garden after midnight on a Thursday.
And then I woke up freaking early because my cat had a sneezing fit all over my toes. So I was pretty darn grumpy by the time GB and I had stood in line for biscuits and bacon (for over an hour), sat on the increasingly hot front porch to EAT the biscuits (mine had applebutter, mmmm), drove to the Gorge, and then realized that neither of us knew what already-full parking lot area was the one for the hike we'd decided to take. (I love that my roommate not only KNOWS all the hikes in the entire pacific nw, but has books showing you what they look like and how long/strenuous they are, too!!) So I snapped at him a few times in the process of parking SOMEWHERE THAT MIGHT BE WHERE WE WERE GOING, and felt awful (but still grumpy) when he got really small and quiet on his side of the car.
But as soon as he'd loaded my sandals and my water and my other water and my purse and my emergency pack that looks like another purse into his backpack, and we were actually hiking, in a breeze, toward waterfalls-- I was able to shed my grumpy, and GB started talking to me and smiling again. And when we got to the part where the bridge was washed out and you had to scramble down where no path is or was, and then leapfrog across if you didn't want to get your hiking shoes soaked, and then scramble up again on the other side...
He totally stopped, scouted our chosen descent for poison oak (he thinks he might be immune at this point, but isn't going to test the theory and also REALLY didn't want me to suffer with it), and then also checked the whole potential crossing to make sure he wasn't asking me to do something too risky and uncomfortable. He went first, and tested each step, and warned me when a rock was tippy, and watched to make sure I got past that rock okay. And then when I had trouble with one of the actual leaps in the path he found across (as opposed to a long step from big flat rock to another rock), he held my hand and made sure I landed okay on the other side. Totally without making me feel like a wimp or a loser.
It's been a long time since I've had a guy take such good care of me. Like, maybe the last time was my dad when I was little. And GB wasn't trying to impress me or anything-- he's just that much of a considerate sweetie. I felt so cared about, and having him support me all the way down and across really built my trust for him. Like-- I felt it start to grow in a waivery uncertain way that told me really clearly how long it's been since I felt like it was safe to put my well-being in someone else's hands. The ex usually got me into a situation, and then ran on ahead impatiently while I struggled with fear, slippery rocks, and much shorter legs all by myself, mid-stream.
Total brownie points for the boy, and he didn't even know he was being awesome. Then we wandered upstream, past all the people sitting in the water to cool off, and found our way out to a big flat boulder in the middle of the river. It was a wonderfully cool, shady place to sit for a few minutes and talk about how we want one of these rivers-- for natural air conditioning purposes, as well as aesthetic value-- in our back yard someday.
Of course, once we'd survived the way-too-hot 2-mile hike back up and down and up and down to the ovencar, made our way home, showered off all the sweat and blisters from the hike, and were actually starting to FEEL the a/c in the room-- he smacked my ass so hard it left a red spot, which totally made him giggle every time I glared at him for the rest of the evening. I will never understand this man.
Now, I'd spent a whole 8 hours the previous day in a hot little office with buzzing flies, no a/c, and a terrible lot of accounts that needed settling. And then I worked on job applications until midnight, when a girl supposedly got abducted just below my bedroom window (or saved from her drunk-ass self-- in this neighborhood, it could go either way, or it could be one of the local crazy men-- the one who likes to ride his bike and sing in falsetto at the top of his lungs, for example).
Anyway, there was frantic screaming of "don't touch me, you hurt me" followed by the slam of a car door, an engine driving away, and then silence. And apparently, I'm the only person in the whole freaking neighborhood who didn't have a functional fan that night and/or wasn't drunk out of their skull, so nobody else I've asked had heard the woman scream. At 1am, a neighbor lady I know went into her back yard, sang a little ditty about the cat and the fiddle, and then went back inside. I think that's what finally let me sleep. The neighborlady singing happily to herself in her garden after midnight on a Thursday.
And then I woke up freaking early because my cat had a sneezing fit all over my toes. So I was pretty darn grumpy by the time GB and I had stood in line for biscuits and bacon (for over an hour), sat on the increasingly hot front porch to EAT the biscuits (mine had applebutter, mmmm), drove to the Gorge, and then realized that neither of us knew what already-full parking lot area was the one for the hike we'd decided to take. (I love that my roommate not only KNOWS all the hikes in the entire pacific nw, but has books showing you what they look like and how long/strenuous they are, too!!) So I snapped at him a few times in the process of parking SOMEWHERE THAT MIGHT BE WHERE WE WERE GOING, and felt awful (but still grumpy) when he got really small and quiet on his side of the car.
But as soon as he'd loaded my sandals and my water and my other water and my purse and my emergency pack that looks like another purse into his backpack, and we were actually hiking, in a breeze, toward waterfalls-- I was able to shed my grumpy, and GB started talking to me and smiling again. And when we got to the part where the bridge was washed out and you had to scramble down where no path is or was, and then leapfrog across if you didn't want to get your hiking shoes soaked, and then scramble up again on the other side...
He totally stopped, scouted our chosen descent for poison oak (he thinks he might be immune at this point, but isn't going to test the theory and also REALLY didn't want me to suffer with it), and then also checked the whole potential crossing to make sure he wasn't asking me to do something too risky and uncomfortable. He went first, and tested each step, and warned me when a rock was tippy, and watched to make sure I got past that rock okay. And then when I had trouble with one of the actual leaps in the path he found across (as opposed to a long step from big flat rock to another rock), he held my hand and made sure I landed okay on the other side. Totally without making me feel like a wimp or a loser.
It's been a long time since I've had a guy take such good care of me. Like, maybe the last time was my dad when I was little. And GB wasn't trying to impress me or anything-- he's just that much of a considerate sweetie. I felt so cared about, and having him support me all the way down and across really built my trust for him. Like-- I felt it start to grow in a waivery uncertain way that told me really clearly how long it's been since I felt like it was safe to put my well-being in someone else's hands. The ex usually got me into a situation, and then ran on ahead impatiently while I struggled with fear, slippery rocks, and much shorter legs all by myself, mid-stream.
Total brownie points for the boy, and he didn't even know he was being awesome. Then we wandered upstream, past all the people sitting in the water to cool off, and found our way out to a big flat boulder in the middle of the river. It was a wonderfully cool, shady place to sit for a few minutes and talk about how we want one of these rivers-- for natural air conditioning purposes, as well as aesthetic value-- in our back yard someday.
Of course, once we'd survived the way-too-hot 2-mile hike back up and down and up and down to the ovencar, made our way home, showered off all the sweat and blisters from the hike, and were actually starting to FEEL the a/c in the room-- he smacked my ass so hard it left a red spot, which totally made him giggle every time I glared at him for the rest of the evening. I will never understand this man.
Saturday, June 27
Wednesday, June 17
No Time To Talk
I've got Saturday Night Fever stuck in my head-- "You can tell by the way I use my walk-- I'm a lady's man, no time to talk... Stayin' Alive, Stayin' Alive. Uh-uh-uh-uh, Stayin' Aliiii-iiiiiiii-iiiiiii-iiiiiive."
It started with the section of book I wrote for tonight's Writing Group, about the Argmy's Agnthrags Vaccine and how awful it was. I was going to call it "Staying Alive..." but then the song flashed in my head. Now it's just THERE. IN MY HEAD.
Interestingly, and nonsequitously, I'm suddenly noticing the things about GB that really impressed me at first, and that he just doesn't do anymore, six weeks into our dating relationship. Like opening the car door for me. Or making sure if I drive home late at night (not just from his house, but from ANYWHERE)-- that I actually made it there safely. Or attributing some of the unexpected good things in his life of late to the fact that I'm in his life now, too. I know that last one wasn't true, but I appreciated the compliment. And I really liked feeling that someone out there cared enough for my safety to check in with me when they knew I might need it. Specifically that the someone I might consider a life partner one day had that level of concern for my well-being. And paid attention to my life enough to know when I was taking long drives alone on the highway, etc.
Also, can I just say that we tried to grocery shop together the other day, and he drove me bonkers in the process. THREE TRIPS down the same aisle because he was having trouble comparing the items on the list to the items in the aisle for more than one item at a time. I know he was tired that day. I know *I* was tired that day, and furthermore that I've done the exact same thing from time to time. But it's the first time he's done anything that really just got on my nerves. I had four hours to spend with him, and 3.5 of those hours went to shopping for paper towels and a skillet. And it REALLY got on my nerves. Besides predicting doom and gloom at every turn, that is. That also gets on my nerves. He's very slowly getting better about that one. I just don't know if I have the patience to wait for him to truly overcome this negative tendency of his.
Those are the not-so-happilies.
Fortunately, he loves my cooking. A lot. He's starting to relax enough around me that I believe I'm starting to see the REAL GB, and not the "make a good first impression" GB. And the real GB still walks into the other room to fart so I don't have to smell it, and sits for long periods in uncomfortable positions rather than move me off his chest, when I fall asleep on him by accident. He pauses in the middle of what he's doing to put a finger under my chin just because he's glad I'm there with him. And he continues to work hard at our communication and at figuring out what we're each thinking about our relationship as it unfolds. He still asks me to explain my unconscious sighs, and really appreciates my input on some of his decisions-- before he makes them. He still takes amazingly good care of his dog, though he's gotten fed up with his lazy-ass roommate's lonely teenage cats, and now chases them away whenever he spends time in the main part of the house.
I know nobody's perfect. And I know I enjoy most of our time together. But I find that my tolerance for other people wasting my time is low, and that my high expectations for any relationship I spend time on are still very much in effect. So I'm teetering between awareness that everybody (including me) has their annoying foibles, and the boy is dealing with a lot of challenges and concerns right now-- and a slow insidious loss of interest in those same challenges and concerns because I've been hearing about them for nearly six weeks now. I can't tell if I'm just grumpy, or if there's something deeper I need to notice.
I also can't tell if I'm leery of "waiting it out" because I lost so much time waiting for my ex to get his shit together... and now I'm unfairly unwilling to give anybody a break for having personal challenges to cope with-- or if I'm leery of "waiting it out" because I don't believe it's actually going to go away anytime soon. I just don't know.
So I think for now I'll wait and see. And maybe take a headache pill before I go to bed. Maybe tomorrow I'll finally feel rested when I wake up. I'd like that. And I really REALLY wish I'd had time to stick around and let the GB spoil me with a big home-made breakfast this morning. He planned to do it. But by 9am, he still wasn't out of bed, and I had a day's worth of work to start. So I left. Half an hour after I'd planned to go, once he finished telling me of his morning worry and kissing me goodbye. And I've been damned grumpy about it ever since.
It started with the section of book I wrote for tonight's Writing Group, about the Argmy's Agnthrags Vaccine and how awful it was. I was going to call it "Staying Alive..." but then the song flashed in my head. Now it's just THERE. IN MY HEAD.
Interestingly, and nonsequitously, I'm suddenly noticing the things about GB that really impressed me at first, and that he just doesn't do anymore, six weeks into our dating relationship. Like opening the car door for me. Or making sure if I drive home late at night (not just from his house, but from ANYWHERE)-- that I actually made it there safely. Or attributing some of the unexpected good things in his life of late to the fact that I'm in his life now, too. I know that last one wasn't true, but I appreciated the compliment. And I really liked feeling that someone out there cared enough for my safety to check in with me when they knew I might need it. Specifically that the someone I might consider a life partner one day had that level of concern for my well-being. And paid attention to my life enough to know when I was taking long drives alone on the highway, etc.
Also, can I just say that we tried to grocery shop together the other day, and he drove me bonkers in the process. THREE TRIPS down the same aisle because he was having trouble comparing the items on the list to the items in the aisle for more than one item at a time. I know he was tired that day. I know *I* was tired that day, and furthermore that I've done the exact same thing from time to time. But it's the first time he's done anything that really just got on my nerves. I had four hours to spend with him, and 3.5 of those hours went to shopping for paper towels and a skillet. And it REALLY got on my nerves. Besides predicting doom and gloom at every turn, that is. That also gets on my nerves. He's very slowly getting better about that one. I just don't know if I have the patience to wait for him to truly overcome this negative tendency of his.
Those are the not-so-happilies.
Fortunately, he loves my cooking. A lot. He's starting to relax enough around me that I believe I'm starting to see the REAL GB, and not the "make a good first impression" GB. And the real GB still walks into the other room to fart so I don't have to smell it, and sits for long periods in uncomfortable positions rather than move me off his chest, when I fall asleep on him by accident. He pauses in the middle of what he's doing to put a finger under my chin just because he's glad I'm there with him. And he continues to work hard at our communication and at figuring out what we're each thinking about our relationship as it unfolds. He still asks me to explain my unconscious sighs, and really appreciates my input on some of his decisions-- before he makes them. He still takes amazingly good care of his dog, though he's gotten fed up with his lazy-ass roommate's lonely teenage cats, and now chases them away whenever he spends time in the main part of the house.
I know nobody's perfect. And I know I enjoy most of our time together. But I find that my tolerance for other people wasting my time is low, and that my high expectations for any relationship I spend time on are still very much in effect. So I'm teetering between awareness that everybody (including me) has their annoying foibles, and the boy is dealing with a lot of challenges and concerns right now-- and a slow insidious loss of interest in those same challenges and concerns because I've been hearing about them for nearly six weeks now. I can't tell if I'm just grumpy, or if there's something deeper I need to notice.
I also can't tell if I'm leery of "waiting it out" because I lost so much time waiting for my ex to get his shit together... and now I'm unfairly unwilling to give anybody a break for having personal challenges to cope with-- or if I'm leery of "waiting it out" because I don't believe it's actually going to go away anytime soon. I just don't know.
So I think for now I'll wait and see. And maybe take a headache pill before I go to bed. Maybe tomorrow I'll finally feel rested when I wake up. I'd like that. And I really REALLY wish I'd had time to stick around and let the GB spoil me with a big home-made breakfast this morning. He planned to do it. But by 9am, he still wasn't out of bed, and I had a day's worth of work to start. So I left. Half an hour after I'd planned to go, once he finished telling me of his morning worry and kissing me goodbye. And I've been damned grumpy about it ever since.
Tuesday, June 2
Entangled
Well, having done a bit of fishing on that PlentyOfFish site, I actually caught somebody. Or he caught me. Well, regardless, we're spending a lot of time together. So I guess I'm now an advocate of some judicial dating websitery. Though there were quite a few potential catches that I threw back so they'd have more time to mature...
This particular euphamism is SO MUCH FUN TO PLAY WITH!!! Even if I can't spell it.
Ahem-- So. It's been nearly a month since I met the Boy, and he's pretty great. (GB for short-- as in Great Boy) I thought I had these high expectations for the next guy I would willingly get silly over, and I expected that most men I met would just fall way short of those expectations. And I wasn't going to compromise, either. Not this time.
See, I'd finally become ready to pursue dating-- but I sort of had it in the back of my head that I was still probably better off alone. Problem is, GB keeps exceeding those expectations of mine like they don't even exist. He even managed to enjoy himself at my parents' recent "Old Folks" reunion of people who knew each other before I was born. And he didn't even need any babysitting. He just went and blended right in, and ... well, it was pretty cool, really.
And now that I'm officially dating someone specific, I have a whole new list of questions you want to ask after you've been dating for a bit, but probably shouldn't... Like the ones for the initial dating scenario on the right there... only now it's been a few weeks since the first date. And I don't think I'll be posting those questions here. I like making the Boy blush, but only in private.
So he (GB) manages to mix a little bit of Romantic and Self-Confident with a whole lot of Practical and Responsible, and then throws in a heavy-handed shot of Unpredictable. It's the Unpredictable that gives our relationship its kick-- though the original ingredients definitely have their place. See, Unpredictable is a combination of Devilish, Nerdy, Thoughtful, Observant, Devilish, and Sweet.
He's not perfect. Really not. (I do wish he had a little more "communicates current intentions" in him sometimes...) But then, nobody is. I mean, take me, for example. I waited until 20 minutes before I had to leave for an appointment with my cat and her daily dose of medicine, and then I way over-communicated something to BG that I'm not sure *I* understand yet, and burst into tears all over his favorite shirt. (For reasons totally unrelated to him!) It was not my best moment, really.
The good news is that when I did it, he just hugged me, and was all calm and patient and understanding, and then he handed me a cookie and walked me to my car. And when he gets on his "doom and gloom are coming" jags, I'm pretty good at giving him a hug, and pointing out other more positive potential outcomes to the situation he's worried about-- or just something pretty I notice in the real world outside to bring him back to Earth...
The bad news is that we have pretty different tastes in movies and books... And that it's harder than I thought to say what I want and go after it regardless, once I decide to really start caring for somebody. Also, I'm realizing that it will just take a lot of time-- and checking in with MYSELF-- to really know how my expectations and I are doing in this relationship. And I mean both the expectations I have for myself, and for how I'm treated by the Boy.
Funny, that. We're both unused to being with someone so considerate as each other, and I think we have a lot of communication issues to iron out. Well, I do, anyway. A hard thing for me to acknowledge, when I've always been so gifted in the art of communication and understanding others' perspectives and motivations. But I also recognize that this would be true no matter WHICH boy I ended up dating. And I really appreciate that GB and I seem to be equally committed to figuring it all out and actually HAVING GOOD COMMUNICATION. And, really, it's only been a month. If you don't count the time we spent on email before our first date.
We'll see if he's still opening doors for me, and taking time for good two-way communication & clarification, and noticing what kind of ice cream I like-- and then buying a gallon of it for his freezer-- in another few months. We'll see if I've managed to overcome my angst about the many times when his plans and priorities make sense in a linear logical way, but mine make sense in an emotional internal logic sort of way-- and instead of acknowledging our differing priorities, I feel like a fool for not seeing things his way-- once we sort out why neither of us had the outcome we expected just now. And then I get a bit angsty about how difficult my logic is to explain or defend. Which is really a communication problem mixed with a little insecurity. And I suspect the problem isn't all on my side.
We'll see if I'm able to keep my needs and preferences separate in my mind from his-- and if I'm still making ME (and my perfectly appropriate logic) my priority-- in another few months. Because I think that's important to a healthy relationship. And I know from experience that it's really hard for me to do. But if *I* don't stay true to myself, who will?
So here I am. Entangled in my own fishing line, totally thrilled by my awesome catch, and not really sure if I'm strong enough to handle the challenging personal battle he represents. I'm not even sure what kind of fish he is yet. I just hope things stay as good over the long-term as they seem right now. Because they seem pretty awesome from where I'm sitting in this little boat for two.
This particular euphamism is SO MUCH FUN TO PLAY WITH!!! Even if I can't spell it.
Ahem-- So. It's been nearly a month since I met the Boy, and he's pretty great. (GB for short-- as in Great Boy) I thought I had these high expectations for the next guy I would willingly get silly over, and I expected that most men I met would just fall way short of those expectations. And I wasn't going to compromise, either. Not this time.
See, I'd finally become ready to pursue dating-- but I sort of had it in the back of my head that I was still probably better off alone. Problem is, GB keeps exceeding those expectations of mine like they don't even exist. He even managed to enjoy himself at my parents' recent "Old Folks" reunion of people who knew each other before I was born. And he didn't even need any babysitting. He just went and blended right in, and ... well, it was pretty cool, really.
And now that I'm officially dating someone specific, I have a whole new list of questions you want to ask after you've been dating for a bit, but probably shouldn't... Like the ones for the initial dating scenario on the right there... only now it's been a few weeks since the first date. And I don't think I'll be posting those questions here. I like making the Boy blush, but only in private.
So he (GB) manages to mix a little bit of Romantic and Self-Confident with a whole lot of Practical and Responsible, and then throws in a heavy-handed shot of Unpredictable. It's the Unpredictable that gives our relationship its kick-- though the original ingredients definitely have their place. See, Unpredictable is a combination of Devilish, Nerdy, Thoughtful, Observant, Devilish, and Sweet.
He's not perfect. Really not. (I do wish he had a little more "communicates current intentions" in him sometimes...) But then, nobody is. I mean, take me, for example. I waited until 20 minutes before I had to leave for an appointment with my cat and her daily dose of medicine, and then I way over-communicated something to BG that I'm not sure *I* understand yet, and burst into tears all over his favorite shirt. (For reasons totally unrelated to him!) It was not my best moment, really.
The good news is that when I did it, he just hugged me, and was all calm and patient and understanding, and then he handed me a cookie and walked me to my car. And when he gets on his "doom and gloom are coming" jags, I'm pretty good at giving him a hug, and pointing out other more positive potential outcomes to the situation he's worried about-- or just something pretty I notice in the real world outside to bring him back to Earth...
The bad news is that we have pretty different tastes in movies and books... And that it's harder than I thought to say what I want and go after it regardless, once I decide to really start caring for somebody. Also, I'm realizing that it will just take a lot of time-- and checking in with MYSELF-- to really know how my expectations and I are doing in this relationship. And I mean both the expectations I have for myself, and for how I'm treated by the Boy.
Funny, that. We're both unused to being with someone so considerate as each other, and I think we have a lot of communication issues to iron out. Well, I do, anyway. A hard thing for me to acknowledge, when I've always been so gifted in the art of communication and understanding others' perspectives and motivations. But I also recognize that this would be true no matter WHICH boy I ended up dating. And I really appreciate that GB and I seem to be equally committed to figuring it all out and actually HAVING GOOD COMMUNICATION. And, really, it's only been a month. If you don't count the time we spent on email before our first date.
We'll see if he's still opening doors for me, and taking time for good two-way communication & clarification, and noticing what kind of ice cream I like-- and then buying a gallon of it for his freezer-- in another few months. We'll see if I've managed to overcome my angst about the many times when his plans and priorities make sense in a linear logical way, but mine make sense in an emotional internal logic sort of way-- and instead of acknowledging our differing priorities, I feel like a fool for not seeing things his way-- once we sort out why neither of us had the outcome we expected just now. And then I get a bit angsty about how difficult my logic is to explain or defend. Which is really a communication problem mixed with a little insecurity. And I suspect the problem isn't all on my side.
We'll see if I'm able to keep my needs and preferences separate in my mind from his-- and if I'm still making ME (and my perfectly appropriate logic) my priority-- in another few months. Because I think that's important to a healthy relationship. And I know from experience that it's really hard for me to do. But if *I* don't stay true to myself, who will?
So here I am. Entangled in my own fishing line, totally thrilled by my awesome catch, and not really sure if I'm strong enough to handle the challenging personal battle he represents. I'm not even sure what kind of fish he is yet. I just hope things stay as good over the long-term as they seem right now. Because they seem pretty awesome from where I'm sitting in this little boat for two.
Sunday, May 3
Gone Fishin
So, having decided I'm ready to date... and being a woman of action...
I've informed my friends I'm available to be set up (in a good way). And then I joined a dating site. Well, actually, I joined TWO dating sites. And the first thing I learned was that the free ones work just as well as the costly ones (I'm not paying, thank you). The second thing I learned was that dating websites are popular BY REGION. So the one that works for my bff in Philly just ain't cutting it here in my neck of the Western Woods.
HOWEVER, there's another free one that my awesome housemate introduced me to, and It's called PlentyofFish. Aptly named. And then I discovered that there are RULES. UNWRITTEN RULES about using dating websites. Like-- the boys I'm emailing with all asked me a deeper relationship question ON THE FOURTH EMAIL, so apparently three good exchanges are the magic number. And boys may ask lots of leading questions about places you like to go and things you like to do... but they don't actually ask you to DO ANY OF THEM. And on the public conversation threads, questions for girls to answer are actually answered JUST AS OFTEN BY BOYS. They just don't read directions, do they. And not only that, but the boys who come across via email as "shy" seem to have gotten favorable rating stars on their profiles more often than boys who come across as Lotharios or jocks. You know how it goes-- the quiet ones usually have a lot more going on than the braggarts.
Luckily, I also got some great advice, and some great pumping up of my ego, from two of my favorite male friends, before I went fishing for boys on the interweb. And, they tell me that since THEY are boys, too, their advice is very good indeed.
So, per the advice of happily married male experts everywhere, I am being a bit selfish, very self-confident, and I am calling all the shots MY WAY. It's quite fun.
And as a result, I am now looking forward to meeting someone (who sounds really cool, very intelligent, and has an awesome motorcycle and a really cool job fighting fires and setting up aid stations after natural disasters) in a very public place to walk, talk, and find out what kind of vibe I get from him in person-- later this week. And this is after telling him I'm divorced and I'm worried about his self-esteem. Nice, huh?
I've also been invited on a hike by another nice-sounding local man, who is definitely in better shape than I am, and has now reassured me TWICE that he grew up in a household where his mom worked and his dad raised the kids, and so he's really into equality. But I'm going to run that one by some friends first. It's not as public as I'd like for a first meeting. But it's a hike I've never done in an area I told him I like hiking, and he's already made two other semi-suggestions that I vetoed. I'm really glad he keeps trying. He sounds nice. And that's to say nothing of Kirk, who lives on a farm and raises organic wheat grass for smoothies. He's shy.
The rest of the advice, which I'm keeping carefully in mind-- per my tendency to care a lot about others' well-being-- is that apparently, it is good for boys to cry into their beers over a woman once in a while. And that I'm worth going to a lot of trouble for.
Whyever it is, this advice TOTALLY freed me from guilt, worry, or nerves while "fishing." And I expect it to continue to serve me well in actual meetings with boys, and even potential SECOND MEETINGS WITH BOYS. (Look out, Trouble! I'm coming to visit, and somebody else is paying the tab!!) I love my friends.
The most bizarre thing I've learned about dating websites is that 90% of the men on them (at least in my age group) are divorced, and 75% of those have their kids on alternating weekends. Don't know why that surprised me so much... All these divorced men with kids in their early thirties.
And I find that while I'm not sure I want to make babies of my own, I don't mind the idea of occasional visits from other peoples' babies. And I have more respect for the guys who put it RIGHT OUT FRONT that whoever dates them has to understand that their kids come first. As well they should, I say! However, I'm also just as glad that the two guys I'm probably going to meet soonest don't have kids. Or so they tell me.
And the photo I used on my profile? It's of me on the beach in the middle of winter. I'm bundled head-to-toe, but I'm also totally happy because I'm on the beach. So these guys aren't picking me for my bra size. I'm sneaky like that.
So, you know, adventures in dating. I'll keep you posted.
I've informed my friends I'm available to be set up (in a good way). And then I joined a dating site. Well, actually, I joined TWO dating sites. And the first thing I learned was that the free ones work just as well as the costly ones (I'm not paying, thank you). The second thing I learned was that dating websites are popular BY REGION. So the one that works for my bff in Philly just ain't cutting it here in my neck of the Western Woods.
HOWEVER, there's another free one that my awesome housemate introduced me to, and It's called PlentyofFish. Aptly named. And then I discovered that there are RULES. UNWRITTEN RULES about using dating websites. Like-- the boys I'm emailing with all asked me a deeper relationship question ON THE FOURTH EMAIL, so apparently three good exchanges are the magic number. And boys may ask lots of leading questions about places you like to go and things you like to do... but they don't actually ask you to DO ANY OF THEM. And on the public conversation threads, questions for girls to answer are actually answered JUST AS OFTEN BY BOYS. They just don't read directions, do they. And not only that, but the boys who come across via email as "shy" seem to have gotten favorable rating stars on their profiles more often than boys who come across as Lotharios or jocks. You know how it goes-- the quiet ones usually have a lot more going on than the braggarts.
Luckily, I also got some great advice, and some great pumping up of my ego, from two of my favorite male friends, before I went fishing for boys on the interweb. And, they tell me that since THEY are boys, too, their advice is very good indeed.
So, per the advice of happily married male experts everywhere, I am being a bit selfish, very self-confident, and I am calling all the shots MY WAY. It's quite fun.
And as a result, I am now looking forward to meeting someone (who sounds really cool, very intelligent, and has an awesome motorcycle and a really cool job fighting fires and setting up aid stations after natural disasters) in a very public place to walk, talk, and find out what kind of vibe I get from him in person-- later this week. And this is after telling him I'm divorced and I'm worried about his self-esteem. Nice, huh?
I've also been invited on a hike by another nice-sounding local man, who is definitely in better shape than I am, and has now reassured me TWICE that he grew up in a household where his mom worked and his dad raised the kids, and so he's really into equality. But I'm going to run that one by some friends first. It's not as public as I'd like for a first meeting. But it's a hike I've never done in an area I told him I like hiking, and he's already made two other semi-suggestions that I vetoed. I'm really glad he keeps trying. He sounds nice. And that's to say nothing of Kirk, who lives on a farm and raises organic wheat grass for smoothies. He's shy.
The rest of the advice, which I'm keeping carefully in mind-- per my tendency to care a lot about others' well-being-- is that apparently, it is good for boys to cry into their beers over a woman once in a while. And that I'm worth going to a lot of trouble for.
Whyever it is, this advice TOTALLY freed me from guilt, worry, or nerves while "fishing." And I expect it to continue to serve me well in actual meetings with boys, and even potential SECOND MEETINGS WITH BOYS. (Look out, Trouble! I'm coming to visit, and somebody else is paying the tab!!) I love my friends.
The most bizarre thing I've learned about dating websites is that 90% of the men on them (at least in my age group) are divorced, and 75% of those have their kids on alternating weekends. Don't know why that surprised me so much... All these divorced men with kids in their early thirties.
And I find that while I'm not sure I want to make babies of my own, I don't mind the idea of occasional visits from other peoples' babies. And I have more respect for the guys who put it RIGHT OUT FRONT that whoever dates them has to understand that their kids come first. As well they should, I say! However, I'm also just as glad that the two guys I'm probably going to meet soonest don't have kids. Or so they tell me.
And the photo I used on my profile? It's of me on the beach in the middle of winter. I'm bundled head-to-toe, but I'm also totally happy because I'm on the beach. So these guys aren't picking me for my bra size. I'm sneaky like that.
So, you know, adventures in dating. I'll keep you posted.
Monday, December 15
The French Translation
Things that mean something, a biographical list of one-liners from breakfast with Big D:
- It'd be nice to date someone intelligent AND funny, you know?
- So, how long have you been a looser?
- Um, no. Actually, I didn't learn that from my grandmother. It's all me.
- Well, I'm just known as "That guy who eats salad for lunch," so they don't think I'm a homo at work-- but there's this other guy who started trying to eat healthy lunches after he'd been there for a while, and it was like, "Man let me show you some tits so you can get over this and eat man-food again."
- Actually, nobody takes you seriously because we know you really DO mean the outrageous things you say.
- God, this sounds retarded; I met her on Facebook.
- Liquid chalk? Actually, I think pole dancers WANT to be able to slide around some...
- He's an ambulance driver with a Master's Degree in Art Criticism. And he eats salads for lunch, too. I just feel compelled to call him my partner-- but only at work!
- Well, actually, I AM a librarian. Explains the ice cube in my hot coco, doesn't it?
- Boy, watching you eat takes me right back to when we were kids.
- I meant to do that.
- When is your Christmas Present officially "late" this year?
- It's like free therapy. Especially when I tell them stories about my marriage. And they tell me, "Gosh. I always wondered how somebody could be stupid enough to end up in that situation. Now I know." At least I get to hear it from my editors before I hear it from everybody else.
- Imagine Jean Claud Van Dam playing himself. He's actually a sad, gentle little man.
- They don't look like cookie rejects to you? Well, taste one. Then you'll understand why I gave them to you.
- Boil down all the wisdom I wish I could go back and give my younger self, and you get this: Eat salad and lift weights-- the rest will take care of itself.
- You have a studded tire for your BICYCLE??
- You've just created another Vin Diesel fan, haven't you.
- Yeah, I know I need some sort of mal-practice insurance for all the great advice I keep giving everybody.
- I think Nateuropathic Medicine is when you're allergic to cats, so they make you eat cat to solve the problem.
- No, really, you WANT to hear this story about eating cat faces in China!
- Dude, people puke on me at work. You spitting when you talk is like NOTHING in comparison. Really. And then there was this guy with a dead mouse on his belly.
- Maybe I need to work on my compassion for fat people.
- ...And then I get the munchies and play stupid video games all day. What side effects do YOU get?
- "Friends with Benefits." That means "free fugck" in french, doesn't it?
Sunday, July 27
Hard to Say, Really
Well, I had a grand tour of CatMan's home last night. And realized that while I appreciate his passion for old stuff because I like and respect him... I wouldn't want to live with all the old stuff he has collected.
So once I got home last night, and again when I got up this morning, I've been trying to figure out the most honest, respectful (to me and to him), and compassionate way that I can let him know I've enjoyed getting to know him, and I respect him greatly, but I don't want to date him. I'd love to have him as a good friend, instead.
(Can you tell I've been thinking this through for a while now?) For all that it needs to be said, I know from the long email he sent me this morning that he's really enjoying our (still non-physical) relationship... It's going to be really hard to tell him that his path is not the one I want to walk.
So once I got home last night, and again when I got up this morning, I've been trying to figure out the most honest, respectful (to me and to him), and compassionate way that I can let him know I've enjoyed getting to know him, and I respect him greatly, but I don't want to date him. I'd love to have him as a good friend, instead.
(Can you tell I've been thinking this through for a while now?) For all that it needs to be said, I know from the long email he sent me this morning that he's really enjoying our (still non-physical) relationship... It's going to be really hard to tell him that his path is not the one I want to walk.
Thursday, July 24
Whydoi
I have to laugh at myself. Often.
For example, when it comes to dating, I've learned just how easy it is to have very conflicting wants. I've met a man who actually likes to talk, and listen, and to whom I like to talk and listen, too. But last night, after making marketing calls for a couple of hours, and then coaching for a couple of hours, my throat hurt, and the idea of talking to anyone about anything made my voice and my brain hurt.
So, instead of calling CatMan, and falling into a long conversation, I emailed him. And said how much I did NOT want to talk. I didn't clarify that talking to ANYONE would have been unappealing, and I was so tired that I doubt my email would have made much rational sense to anyone. I also think I asked him out to a movie this weekend. But I couldn't swear to that.
This morning? The first thing I did was RUSH to email to see if he'd responded yet. Responded to what? My apparent desire not to interact with him? ...before 7am on a work day?
And then I started to laugh. Last time I checked, my life was about me. And being tired and taking care of myself was a GOOD thing. I'd forgotten how easy it is to get swept into relationship, and how hard I find it to think of myself and my needs when I'm in relationship with someone I really care about. The good news is that I noticed myself being silly, and can now make a different choice.
So I'll call CatMan when he gets home from work tonight, and maybe we can enjoy a good conversation then. I think it'll be okay. I think maybe we don't have to call out the Nagtional Guard on this one. You think?
For example, when it comes to dating, I've learned just how easy it is to have very conflicting wants. I've met a man who actually likes to talk, and listen, and to whom I like to talk and listen, too. But last night, after making marketing calls for a couple of hours, and then coaching for a couple of hours, my throat hurt, and the idea of talking to anyone about anything made my voice and my brain hurt.
So, instead of calling CatMan, and falling into a long conversation, I emailed him. And said how much I did NOT want to talk. I didn't clarify that talking to ANYONE would have been unappealing, and I was so tired that I doubt my email would have made much rational sense to anyone. I also think I asked him out to a movie this weekend. But I couldn't swear to that.
This morning? The first thing I did was RUSH to email to see if he'd responded yet. Responded to what? My apparent desire not to interact with him? ...before 7am on a work day?
And then I started to laugh. Last time I checked, my life was about me. And being tired and taking care of myself was a GOOD thing. I'd forgotten how easy it is to get swept into relationship, and how hard I find it to think of myself and my needs when I'm in relationship with someone I really care about. The good news is that I noticed myself being silly, and can now make a different choice.
So I'll call CatMan when he gets home from work tonight, and maybe we can enjoy a good conversation then. I think it'll be okay. I think maybe we don't have to call out the Nagtional Guard on this one. You think?
Monday, July 21
The Scary Part...
I think I went on a date. Now what???
This guy is intelligent, self-sufficient, capable, stable, easy-going, and also knows what he wants and what he thinks. He's mature, and he's sturdy, and he's thoughtful and caring-- especially toward his family and his community, and he doesn't seem to worry about what anybody else thinks, and seems to have his life pretty well planned out. What on earth would I bring to his life that he doesn't already have? Would there be room for me and my goals and my way of living? And... could I maintain my own newly and hard-won self-awareness and personal opinions and sense of purpose in the world if I ended up in a serious relationship with him? Would I stop being silly around the edges so that I'd appear mature and sturdy, too? Standing on one foot isn't very sturdy, and the Christmas carols aren't always sung in tune... but it's who I am, and I really like me.
It's part of a larger concern. The last vestiges of my fear of fugcking up at dating like I did at marrying, and of not finding someone who actually IS all those things I THINK he is; mixed with this irrational fear that I'm not enough for a guy like this.
I just have to let actions speak, and listen when they do. I have to give myself (and him) TIME. And ask frank questions if/when I want more transparent communication between us. That's a challenge all by itself, but it's important to me.
Without good, solid, honest, and timely communication... there isn't really anything else.
My job is to make sure I stay in touch with myself and my needs, and that I clearly communicate my needs and my questions to whomever I am with. I'm getting better at this, but I've got some learning left to do. All that is about me. It would be the same with any guy... And this guy seems to be really great. Really Great. In some ways, it'd be easier if his baggage was as transparent to me as mine is...
And... When I stop to think about who I am and what I have to offer a friend or a partner... it's actually pretty impressive. I'm caring, considerate (usually), and I pursue open and honest communication. I invite opportunity for consensus. I'm intelligent. I have plans for a career, and I enjoy being productive. I'm sometimes funny (it helps if you get my jokes). I've got a lot of skills, and I'm willing to try new things and lend a hand when I do know what I'm doing.
I'm artistic, and handy, and creative, and a good problem-solver (usually-- there was that time when I forgot that I didn't need an internet connection to transport information from one computer to another...). I take healthy risks, and I'm constantly working to improve myself as a person and a community-member. I'm genuine. I'm good with animals and children and... just about everybody else, too.
I steal the covers, but I give them back. I'm not afraid to ask for help when I need it. I cook excellent one-pot meals. I buy organic, and I like french fries. I'm a skilled writer and information-finder. I know how to use the spell-checker. I'm loyal. I'm flexible so long as SOMEONE has a plan. I don't get angry easily (though I get frustrated with myself more easily than I'd like)... I can laugh at myself, and I love to cuddle. I give a good massage, and I can be very sensual in a safe and committed situation. People seem to think I'm good company, and I'm pretty good at expressing my opinions when I have them. I really see people for who they are inside, when given a window in.
I mean, really, that's a lot to offer in the dating world...
and-- apparently-- I'm perky, too. So There.
It occurs to me... I need to start a list of questions we all want to ask, but often don't know how (or don't have the courage to ask) in dating situations! According to a girlfriend of mine who's done a lot of dating recently, the rules now are... THERE ARE NO RULES. Dating is what you want it to be. Huh. I'm really not sure how to interact with that. I want conflicting things. It's hard to take big risks when what I really want is not to get hurt. I don't want any more hurt in my life right now. I've had enough to last two lifetimes. I also want to see if there IS a good life-partner out there for me, and that involves taking some emotional risks.
So I wonder... is it simply time to focus on enjoying today, and let the future take care of itself? Ironically, the very next thing that comes to mind is a question: ...and where will that lead if I do?? How scary is that!
This guy is intelligent, self-sufficient, capable, stable, easy-going, and also knows what he wants and what he thinks. He's mature, and he's sturdy, and he's thoughtful and caring-- especially toward his family and his community, and he doesn't seem to worry about what anybody else thinks, and seems to have his life pretty well planned out. What on earth would I bring to his life that he doesn't already have? Would there be room for me and my goals and my way of living? And... could I maintain my own newly and hard-won self-awareness and personal opinions and sense of purpose in the world if I ended up in a serious relationship with him? Would I stop being silly around the edges so that I'd appear mature and sturdy, too? Standing on one foot isn't very sturdy, and the Christmas carols aren't always sung in tune... but it's who I am, and I really like me.
It's part of a larger concern. The last vestiges of my fear of fugcking up at dating like I did at marrying, and of not finding someone who actually IS all those things I THINK he is; mixed with this irrational fear that I'm not enough for a guy like this.
I just have to let actions speak, and listen when they do. I have to give myself (and him) TIME. And ask frank questions if/when I want more transparent communication between us. That's a challenge all by itself, but it's important to me.
Without good, solid, honest, and timely communication... there isn't really anything else.
My job is to make sure I stay in touch with myself and my needs, and that I clearly communicate my needs and my questions to whomever I am with. I'm getting better at this, but I've got some learning left to do. All that is about me. It would be the same with any guy... And this guy seems to be really great. Really Great. In some ways, it'd be easier if his baggage was as transparent to me as mine is...
And... When I stop to think about who I am and what I have to offer a friend or a partner... it's actually pretty impressive. I'm caring, considerate (usually), and I pursue open and honest communication. I invite opportunity for consensus. I'm intelligent. I have plans for a career, and I enjoy being productive. I'm sometimes funny (it helps if you get my jokes). I've got a lot of skills, and I'm willing to try new things and lend a hand when I do know what I'm doing.
I'm artistic, and handy, and creative, and a good problem-solver (usually-- there was that time when I forgot that I didn't need an internet connection to transport information from one computer to another...). I take healthy risks, and I'm constantly working to improve myself as a person and a community-member. I'm genuine. I'm good with animals and children and... just about everybody else, too.
I steal the covers, but I give them back. I'm not afraid to ask for help when I need it. I cook excellent one-pot meals. I buy organic, and I like french fries. I'm a skilled writer and information-finder. I know how to use the spell-checker. I'm loyal. I'm flexible so long as SOMEONE has a plan. I don't get angry easily (though I get frustrated with myself more easily than I'd like)... I can laugh at myself, and I love to cuddle. I give a good massage, and I can be very sensual in a safe and committed situation. People seem to think I'm good company, and I'm pretty good at expressing my opinions when I have them. I really see people for who they are inside, when given a window in.
I mean, really, that's a lot to offer in the dating world...
and-- apparently-- I'm perky, too. So There.
It occurs to me... I need to start a list of questions we all want to ask, but often don't know how (or don't have the courage to ask) in dating situations! According to a girlfriend of mine who's done a lot of dating recently, the rules now are... THERE ARE NO RULES. Dating is what you want it to be. Huh. I'm really not sure how to interact with that. I want conflicting things. It's hard to take big risks when what I really want is not to get hurt. I don't want any more hurt in my life right now. I've had enough to last two lifetimes. I also want to see if there IS a good life-partner out there for me, and that involves taking some emotional risks.
So I wonder... is it simply time to focus on enjoying today, and let the future take care of itself? Ironically, the very next thing that comes to mind is a question: ...and where will that lead if I do?? How scary is that!
Sunday, July 20
Polly Wolly Doodle
I nearly titled this Seven Hours of "Parking," but then I thought better of it. Then, I thought about calling it All The Things He Did Right... but again, it just wasn't what I wanted in a title...
The truth is... I'm not even sure today was a date. Defining it as that brings up a lot of the insecurities I haven't quite worked through yet. CatMan picked me up at 10:30am-ish. He played with the cats while I finished rushing around and pulling my shigt together, and then we were off... In a REALLY CUTE little red two-seater Toyota thingy. Apparently, he also has one in blue. I think this car was born in the '80's, and it was just FUN to ride in, without being the "pimp-daddy date car" that it could easily have been. Part of the fun was that CatMan is a good driver, and I could actually ignore the road and focus on the conversation while we drove out to the well-treed park we were planning to walk around in. It was actually very easy to relax and allow the whole day to just unfold. I really appreciated that.
The plan was to take a short jaunt through the tree-lined paths of the public park, nosh on some munchies (he brought cheese and crackers and berries from his yummy black raspberry bush and a knife to cut the bread and napkins and...-- I brought Dave's Killer Bread and some Mediterranean Kalamata Olives), and get home again before the day got hot.
But we had such easy conversation, and it was so much cooler among the trees, that we eventually ran out of trail and settled on a park bench (in the PARK, so technically we were "PARKING") for another hour or two of talk. Just talk. Really. I think we got back to my place (and promptly walked up the street for an ice cream cone and some more conversation) around 6pm.
Turns out he's an ice cream freak. Not as bad as I am, but close. Turns out, he takes my teasing pretty well-- though I wasn't always sure he knew I WAS teasing him. I might need to work on that. And while I'm into corny action flicks, he's into corny action heroes (and the constant rash of tv series about them)... I own more DVDs, but his CD collection outweighs mine by a couple of decibel points. (Ahem-- I meant decimal. I did.)
We both have moms who like to collect and/or save large quantities of inexpensive and potentially useful storage items. (read: pack rats)... He's into live and let live yard work, and he's scrupulous about it. I'm happy I don't have a yard (though I do dream of an herb garden and some shade trees one day...), and I'm glad to hear the baby maples stand a chance, even if the conifer doesn't. Basically, we had entire conversations about stuff that the other person knew almost but not quite completely NOTHING ABOUT, even though you'd think from the outside that the topics we each enjoyed would seriously overlap at some point. It was very entertaining.
We both seem to be at a point where we'd rather not have a relationship at all than settle for one that's not so great. And, like I said, we both love ice cream. I have to say, I think there's potential. Isn't that bizarre?
And, truthfully, it's a little scary.
The truth is... I'm not even sure today was a date. Defining it as that brings up a lot of the insecurities I haven't quite worked through yet. CatMan picked me up at 10:30am-ish. He played with the cats while I finished rushing around and pulling my shigt together, and then we were off... In a REALLY CUTE little red two-seater Toyota thingy. Apparently, he also has one in blue. I think this car was born in the '80's, and it was just FUN to ride in, without being the "pimp-daddy date car" that it could easily have been. Part of the fun was that CatMan is a good driver, and I could actually ignore the road and focus on the conversation while we drove out to the well-treed park we were planning to walk around in. It was actually very easy to relax and allow the whole day to just unfold. I really appreciated that.
The plan was to take a short jaunt through the tree-lined paths of the public park, nosh on some munchies (he brought cheese and crackers and berries from his yummy black raspberry bush and a knife to cut the bread and napkins and...-- I brought Dave's Killer Bread and some Mediterranean Kalamata Olives), and get home again before the day got hot.
But we had such easy conversation, and it was so much cooler among the trees, that we eventually ran out of trail and settled on a park bench (in the PARK, so technically we were "PARKING") for another hour or two of talk. Just talk. Really. I think we got back to my place (and promptly walked up the street for an ice cream cone and some more conversation) around 6pm.
Turns out he's an ice cream freak. Not as bad as I am, but close. Turns out, he takes my teasing pretty well-- though I wasn't always sure he knew I WAS teasing him. I might need to work on that. And while I'm into corny action flicks, he's into corny action heroes (and the constant rash of tv series about them)... I own more DVDs, but his CD collection outweighs mine by a couple of decibel points. (Ahem-- I meant decimal. I did.)
We both have moms who like to collect and/or save large quantities of inexpensive and potentially useful storage items. (read: pack rats)... He's into live and let live yard work, and he's scrupulous about it. I'm happy I don't have a yard (though I do dream of an herb garden and some shade trees one day...), and I'm glad to hear the baby maples stand a chance, even if the conifer doesn't. Basically, we had entire conversations about stuff that the other person knew almost but not quite completely NOTHING ABOUT, even though you'd think from the outside that the topics we each enjoyed would seriously overlap at some point. It was very entertaining.
We both seem to be at a point where we'd rather not have a relationship at all than settle for one that's not so great. And, like I said, we both love ice cream. I have to say, I think there's potential. Isn't that bizarre?
And, truthfully, it's a little scary.
Thursday, July 17
What's Your Favorite...
I'd forgotten that there can be this awkward period of "getting to know you" when you make new friends. Especially if you both know there's a possibility that you might be more than friends-- and neither one of you is really sure you're ready for that. I also hadn't realized that the questions I'd have asked in high school might not be quite so appropriate now...
Questions like: What's your favorite color? and Who's your favorite actor? and Which do you prefer-- boxers or briefs? (well, okay, that was college)... Umm...
It's actually a funny thing-- talking on the telephone, trying to find mutual topics of conversation, not sure of each other's verbal patterns so you end up starting to respond before he stops talking-- often enough to feel foolish about it. Some people are just easier to talk with in person, and with others... an hour or two might go by unnoticed while your relationship blooms via the technology that links you. It's a hit-or-miss sort of thing.
The good news is that I've discovered I no longer hold a grudge against everyone who shares the same interests, career, or bone structure as my Ex. I'm really fine with military guys (though that last one was a bit of a flake), and it's okay if you play the occasional video game (just don't play so much that you have to stop yourself from going into the nearest jewelry store because your "supply of pearls is low"). I can even handle men with a predilection for ... well, never mind that one. It's just good to know that I'm (generally speaking, since I'm not perfect) going into any future dating relationships with no preconceived judgments or expectations. It really IS going to be about how things go between me and the man I'm talking to. The ghosts are finally fading away. YAYYYY!!!
So... No Shight, there we were. Having a conversation about cats. His cats. His two female black cats who sound really fun, and have their own playground that has taken over most of the living room floor, and includes several army-issue ponchos because the material actually sheds cat fur. His cats that he picked out of a litter of kittens, and one of whom he has named Morgan, after Morgan le Fae from Arthurian Legends. How F-ing COOL is THAT?!
The things we talked about HINT at awesome things that didn't quite reach the surface. And I'm hooked. I want to find out if those hints are fool's gold or something more precious. And I want to be respectful. But it takes getting to know someone to really understand what "respectful" looks like to them. And I don't know him very well yet. So I'm guessing. I told myself very firmly-- months ago now-- that if I ever DID date somebody ever again, I would NOT play the whole "how long am I supposed to wait before I call back?!" guessing game. No. And now, here I am. Wondering if I can call and tell him about my weekend on Sunday, or if I should wait until later in the week-- give him a chance to call me again. ...and I'm not sure there's any way to avoid hazarding a few guesses. For instance, I guess I should probably stop editing this blog post, and get some sleep.
I can tell right now that I need to create a new label for all the posts that are going to show up about dating, now that I'm actually out there trying to participate in it.
And-- Hey!-- How the hell do you know if a guy is the right age for you anymore?! It was easy when we were all in school together-- either he was in your classes or he wasn't. But now? ...Umm...
While the whole age-range of datability has expanded as I've grown up (at twelve, dating a guy two years older was like REALLY BOLD-- I mean, he's OLD!!!), and I've discovered that I'm now okay with someone ten years older than me, I think, until proven otherwise, on a case-by-case basis, maybe... TWENTY YEARS IS PUSHING IT. But that's me. And if I run into a couple with a greater range in age than what I would accept for myself, I try to make my judgement based on whether there is respect, appreciation, maturity and enjoyment from each person for the other or not-- because those are the only things I know for a fact should exist in every relationship regardless.
Okay. That was a seriously run-on sentence. But it's a valid question. The older we get, the harder it is for me to guess how old we are. And can I just tell you that I was accused of being petite and blonde over the phone today? By a very nice woman who lives in Georgia. She's never seen me before, but I just SOUNDED like a blonde to her. Along these same lines, a friend once shocked me to my toes by telling me that he would describe me as "perky." ME?? ReALLY?? But... I'm so BORING! ... and he gave me that "what planet does your mirror live on, really??" look, so I guess it's true. Me. Perky.
...And I'd forgotten about it, and gone back to thinking of myself as boring and not anything like those fun cheerful bouncy cheerleader types... I mean, really. I'm a librarian, man. ...Until I talked with this woman from Georgia. And then the man with the cats called. I found myself trying not to say "like" quite so often, and not being quite as ...uhh... twinkly and random?... in my responses to his conversation. I didn't want to come across as "young" or "immature" or ... "blonde" somehow... And when I realized what I was doing, I had to laugh at myself. Either he'll like me or he won't. And either I'll like him or I won't.
But pretending to anybody that I don't stand on one foot and sing Christmas carols to myself when I wash dishes is just silly. Because all you have to do is walk into the kitchen while I'm doing dishes, and you realize that this is EXACTLY what I do, people. HONESTLY. And, just as with the whole "perky" thing, I didn't even know I did that until one day my mom came home from work early, walked into the kitchen, and burst out laughing to the point of actual tears.
...sigh...
I don't think I have this hangup in person, however (the one about trying to appear mature), so I'm going to cross my fingers and hope that the next time CatMan calls, he'll be calling to invite me to do something face-to-face. And maybe, if he's nice, I'll even sing him a Christmas carol or two. Like.
Questions like: What's your favorite color? and Who's your favorite actor? and Which do you prefer-- boxers or briefs? (well, okay, that was college)... Umm...
It's actually a funny thing-- talking on the telephone, trying to find mutual topics of conversation, not sure of each other's verbal patterns so you end up starting to respond before he stops talking-- often enough to feel foolish about it. Some people are just easier to talk with in person, and with others... an hour or two might go by unnoticed while your relationship blooms via the technology that links you. It's a hit-or-miss sort of thing.
The good news is that I've discovered I no longer hold a grudge against everyone who shares the same interests, career, or bone structure as my Ex. I'm really fine with military guys (though that last one was a bit of a flake), and it's okay if you play the occasional video game (just don't play so much that you have to stop yourself from going into the nearest jewelry store because your "supply of pearls is low"). I can even handle men with a predilection for ... well, never mind that one. It's just good to know that I'm (generally speaking, since I'm not perfect) going into any future dating relationships with no preconceived judgments or expectations. It really IS going to be about how things go between me and the man I'm talking to. The ghosts are finally fading away. YAYYYY!!!
So... No Shight, there we were. Having a conversation about cats. His cats. His two female black cats who sound really fun, and have their own playground that has taken over most of the living room floor, and includes several army-issue ponchos because the material actually sheds cat fur. His cats that he picked out of a litter of kittens, and one of whom he has named Morgan, after Morgan le Fae from Arthurian Legends. How F-ing COOL is THAT?!
The things we talked about HINT at awesome things that didn't quite reach the surface. And I'm hooked. I want to find out if those hints are fool's gold or something more precious. And I want to be respectful. But it takes getting to know someone to really understand what "respectful" looks like to them. And I don't know him very well yet. So I'm guessing. I told myself very firmly-- months ago now-- that if I ever DID date somebody ever again, I would NOT play the whole "how long am I supposed to wait before I call back?!" guessing game. No. And now, here I am. Wondering if I can call and tell him about my weekend on Sunday, or if I should wait until later in the week-- give him a chance to call me again. ...and I'm not sure there's any way to avoid hazarding a few guesses. For instance, I guess I should probably stop editing this blog post, and get some sleep.
I can tell right now that I need to create a new label for all the posts that are going to show up about dating, now that I'm actually out there trying to participate in it.
And-- Hey!-- How the hell do you know if a guy is the right age for you anymore?! It was easy when we were all in school together-- either he was in your classes or he wasn't. But now? ...Umm...
While the whole age-range of datability has expanded as I've grown up (at twelve, dating a guy two years older was like REALLY BOLD-- I mean, he's OLD!!!), and I've discovered that I'm now okay with someone ten years older than me, I think, until proven otherwise, on a case-by-case basis, maybe... TWENTY YEARS IS PUSHING IT. But that's me. And if I run into a couple with a greater range in age than what I would accept for myself, I try to make my judgement based on whether there is respect, appreciation, maturity and enjoyment from each person for the other or not-- because those are the only things I know for a fact should exist in every relationship regardless.
Okay. That was a seriously run-on sentence. But it's a valid question. The older we get, the harder it is for me to guess how old we are. And can I just tell you that I was accused of being petite and blonde over the phone today? By a very nice woman who lives in Georgia. She's never seen me before, but I just SOUNDED like a blonde to her. Along these same lines, a friend once shocked me to my toes by telling me that he would describe me as "perky." ME?? ReALLY?? But... I'm so BORING! ... and he gave me that "what planet does your mirror live on, really??" look, so I guess it's true. Me. Perky.
...And I'd forgotten about it, and gone back to thinking of myself as boring and not anything like those fun cheerful bouncy cheerleader types... I mean, really. I'm a librarian, man. ...Until I talked with this woman from Georgia. And then the man with the cats called. I found myself trying not to say "like" quite so often, and not being quite as ...uhh... twinkly and random?... in my responses to his conversation. I didn't want to come across as "young" or "immature" or ... "blonde" somehow... And when I realized what I was doing, I had to laugh at myself. Either he'll like me or he won't. And either I'll like him or I won't.
But pretending to anybody that I don't stand on one foot and sing Christmas carols to myself when I wash dishes is just silly. Because all you have to do is walk into the kitchen while I'm doing dishes, and you realize that this is EXACTLY what I do, people. HONESTLY. And, just as with the whole "perky" thing, I didn't even know I did that until one day my mom came home from work early, walked into the kitchen, and burst out laughing to the point of actual tears.
...sigh...
I don't think I have this hangup in person, however (the one about trying to appear mature), so I'm going to cross my fingers and hope that the next time CatMan calls, he'll be calling to invite me to do something face-to-face. And maybe, if he's nice, I'll even sing him a Christmas carol or two. Like.
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