Sleeping intimacy

I had no intention of spending the night last week.  None whatsoever.  It is way too early.  WAY TOO EARLY.  The last time I spent the night too early, I got my heart trounced.  Twice.

And, I'm not talking about sex.  I'm talking about just sleeping.  Sharing a bed.  Listening to the sounds of each other sleeping, knowing the side of the bed they sleep on, knowing how they move during the night...  Its bizarre to become that intimate with a person when you hardly know them.  Sex?  No problem.  Not that I'm known for my sexual prowess early in a relationship (or in the middle of a relationship, or a the end of one.  Though sometimes after its over...) - but you can do the deed and roll out, back to your own house and your own bed.  You don't ever find out whether they make sounds, or toss and turn, or put out oven-like body heat, or drool and fart.

It started like this with BB.  I spent the night in his bed on our very first date.  He had invited me back to his house (man, I am gullible!) and we got into some wine.  At 4:oo am, it was clear that I wasn't going home and we went to bed.  He gave me a t-shirt and boxers to wear, and we made out and eventually fell asleep.  That's what started the whole long BB dilemma.  I felt emotionally bonded with him because we had spooned for 3 hours, before daylight broke (and before my head started pounding with a viciousness that wouldn't quit).  'Course, we had sex for the first time within a week of knowing each other; but in my defense, it was our third date.  

I've often wondered what would have happened if I had played it cool.  Been more aloof and less available.  Would he have lost interest?  More importantly, would I have lost interest?  Without that physical/emotional connection, there wasn't really much else to "us" since he didn't like to interact with people or leave the house.  

So, this is why I'm slightly horrified that once again, I got myself tipsy and had to stay away from being behind the wheel of my car.  Prof and I hung out at his house for a while, then went to bed.  Of course there was makey outey, touchy touchy, but it was G rated.  Good thing we'd had a long conversation about sex too early in a relationship (verdict: its bad). 

Sleeping with and waking up with someone changes things.  Snuggling with them all night changes things.  Having them follow you and reposition the spoon as you roll back and forth changes things.  And a fucking excellent 6:30 am back rub?  Shit.  That really changed things.  (I didn't even have to ask!  But that's a bit off topic and more on the topic of how much I like this guy.)

We really only slept for 3 hours, max.  And it was fitful.  Sleeping in a strange bed with a strange man is weird.  It puts you a bit on edge, even when you know its safe and fine.  Its just not comfortable yet.  And all night I was wondering how it would change things, whether it would intensify feelings, and maybe speed up the pace of making this thing exclusive or speed up the pace of me flaking out and running for the hills.

Today when I saw him, things were different.  We were more comfortable with eachother.  I had less of my guard up (but still plenty, don't you worry about that!)  I don't know.  This might wind up being something and I don't want to play it wrong.

More Exhaustion

And I thought I was exhausted last week...

I came home from work tonight and got in bed to take a "nap" at 5:30. I remember waking up and wondering why the sky looked so weird; I think that's because my body forgot that the sun was setting, not rising. Then I then woke up again and it was dark. And 9pm.

So much for Friday night.

That's ok though, because I'm exhausted for a reason. Well, several reasons actually.

The first reason is that school is finally done for the semester and the take home exam from hell has been completed and turned in. Twenty hours of work went into that thing. Twenty hours! I actually took off work to do it, and needed another day. It was unreal. It was frustrating. It almost made me throw my beloved MacBook across the room. It definitely made me cry tears of frustration. But its done, turned in, out of my hands and I am free, free, free!!

Don't know whether that 4.0 is going to remain intact, but who cares? I did. But that got beat out of me during the first 12 hours of working on that damn thing.

To celebrate, I went out with the professor. His office is in the building next to my program, so I met him there. Its fun to see where people work. He showed me his toys, his stack of papers that needed grading, the boring books he was reading... Then we went to dinner.

We frustrate the hell out of wait staff. We talk so damn much (I talk so damn much?) that food and drink is secondary. Our waitress came over 3, maybe 4, times before we even decided to put in for an appetizer. He is really easy to talk to, and he sees through my bullshit. I come with a lot of bullshit, by the way (in case you haven't noticed).

And he totally blog-outted me. We were talking about something totally unrelated and he looks at me and says "you are so the type of person that would have a blog all about themselves..." I didn't see it coming so I could prepare my lies. I turned red and giggled. "You DO have a blog! I knew it!" Damn. For reasons that are pretty apparent, I don't talk about the blog to most people; particularly people I am dating. Shhhh.... the inner workings of my mind are a secret!! He threatened to look for it, but I made it pretty clear he would never find it. And he respects that. He's a good guy. We talked about how the blog helps me sort through things, discover things about myself, and call bullshit on myself.

Then we went out drinking. We had eaten dinner on the porch and a bunch of kids I'm in classes with, and a bunch of his grad students had passed by, said hi, and embarrassingly "are you on a date?!" and invited us out with them. How could we refuse? After my dinner mojito and 2 glasses of red wine, we went out with the kids and I drank some beer and did a shot. His grad students were really funny. They clearly like him, and respect him. And they clearly liked me (duh). One of them bought me a beer; I freeloaded off a starving grad student. I am a bad person...

By the time we were done, I was in no shape to drive home.

And so it starts.

Exhaustion

The professor totally digs me. 

And I know this, because as we were making out in the parking lot at 1:30 a.m. on a Tuesday night, he says "You are a good kisser" followed by "I don't want to go to Chicago this weekend anymore..."

Wonder if one has anything to do with the other?  Yeah.  I doubt it too.

So, if you can't tell, I had a great second date with the professor.  We met for margaritas around 9:30; then found out the place closed at 10.  A half hour second date wasn't going to cut it, so we ended up around the corner at an actual bar.  I don't know what happened, but I figured it was getting late and pulled my cell phone out to see what time it was (does it surprise you at all that I haven't worn a watch in about a decade?).  I was horrified.  It was 1:05.  In the morning.  And I needed to be out of bed at 5:45.  In the morning.  And bed was 30 minutes away.  

But I really wasn't ready to leave yet.  Which is why there was a slight make out session in the parking lot.  I really didn't like that we were making out in a parking lot.  Particularly this sorta gross, creepy one.  PDA goes against my rules - doesn't matter what time it is, or where it is, noone wants to see that shit.  

3.5 hours of sleep does not make you a really effective person the next day.  But it sure does make you bitchy.  And on edge.  And it was unfortunate that I had meetings, and lots and lots and lots of homework to do.  Lots.  So, I got about 5 hours of sleep last night too.

In part because I was gchatting with Prof in between doing homework questions.

Boys sure can interfere with my life.

Expectations

The professor and I have been exchanging lots of emails, and have had several lengthy gchat sessions.  I never knew that you could waste so much time, essentially emailing someone real time.  At work. We agreed not to do it anymore, but I don't know how long that will really last.

Yesterday, over gchat, we made plans to go out again.  Tomorrow night.  He has a class, I have a meeting - so we will meet afterwards and grab a few drinks.  I'm really looking forward to it. But in some ways, I'm not.  I've already placed all these expectations on the situation.  Not on purpose, of course, but my mind wanders into the future.  Then, if it doesn't flow as well tomorrow and he doesn't fall instantly, madly in love with me (which I'm sure he already has), I'll be disappointed.

I need to not overthink this; but its really difficult.  Its been over year since I've connected with someone and felt so at ease with them.  I know full well that this guy isn't perfect, but I don't know yet what those imperfections are.  And whether I could live with them.  Its too early to worry about those things; but it doesn't stop me from thinking about them.

And, already, I feel as if I'm already pushing him away.  I'm extra edgy; extra cynical; extra sarcastic - I tend to be like that when I meet new people, but I'm really turning it on this time.  

(For some reason, I think that a sharp, acrid personality will make people like me.  I know this to be completely untrue, but I still act that way.  Its almost like in college, when Prex poured beer on my car late one night, so I would stay and hang out with him and his drunk-ass friends. Why would he think that pissing me off would make me want to spend time with him? Yet, this seems to be the same logic I am clinging to, except, I'm not drunk.  Or 22 years old.)

Good lord.  Someone should really do men a favor and just take me out of the dating pool. Permanently.

Best Week Ever

Its rare, but it happens.

I had a fucking awesome week.

It started with kayaking last Saturday.  It was my first trip down a "real" river for the year and I was so anxiety ridden, I didn't have any fun for the first couple hours.  But after we got past the black-eye rock and the worst rapid, I started to really have fun.  Really.  I even seal launched off a five foot cliff.  I was so, so very proud of myself.

On Monday, I found out that a grant that I had written for work way back this fall was accepted; netting us 200,000 bucks to do some important work we wanted to do.

The same day, I also took a reporter out with me on a work thing.  He wrote a blog post about it, with an actually newspaper article on its way.  The blog post was really nice, and quite directly complimentary of me.  Like, embarrassingly complimentary.  So complimentary I was almost bursting.  Or, at least, my ego was bursting.  

Did I mention that the reporter was cute?  Yeah.  He was cute.  And my age.  And outdoorsy.

And engaged.

But his interest was definitely piqued.  He sent me pictures of his last vacation where he want kayaking.  Linked to his Facebook page.  Pictures of me that he had taken while on tour with me....  Yeah.  He may have a little cold-feet syndrome.  I mean, its not every day you meet a girl as cool as I am.

(still ego tripping.  But wait, there's more!)   

On Thursday, after exchanging semi-flirty emails with reporter (don't worry.  he is definitely off-limits), and semi-flirty emails with the professor all day, I went to class.  Boring, boring class.  Where, during our break, one of the girls congratulated me.

Huh?

On my award.  

That I had received on Friday.  

That nobody told me about.

I was confused.  Wouldn't someone tell me that I might want to be at the awards ceremony if an award was coming my way?  No matter.

What matters is that I received an actual, honest to god award in graduate school.  

An award that comes with cash.

Cash money!  Of an unspecified amount.  I have to determine what I need money to help me do, and I have to ask for it.  I'm assuming that with adequate justification (and I'm a pretty good grant writer!) it could be worth several thousand dollars.  I have already decided to lobby for a semester abroad experience.  

I still don't even know what the award was for.  Most obnoxious grad student?  Most opinions expressed in a single night?  Biggest ego?  They are sending me the info and certificate in the mail.  It blows my mind.  Someone had to nominate me for this thing.  And I've done nothing exceptional at school:  i just show up, speak my mind, do my homework and take home my A's.

Then, I had my really good date on Friday.  And another decent day of kayaking yesterday.

Honestly, I'm a little afraid to leave the house today, and go to work tomorrow.  So many good things happened last week that I feel like bad news is going to find me and make up for it.  Its happened in the past - every great thing in my life has always seemed to be counterbalanced by some tragedy.  Cross your fingers for me; but if you never see another blog post, you'll know I got run over by a bus.

The Disclaimer Dater

The professor dubbed me a "disclaimer dater" over gchat this morning. I guess I've done nothing but warn him what I would be like: late, obnoxious, ego swollen, opinionated, loud, smelly... He's right though. I think I was going out of my way to make sure he knew that I'm not an ordinary girl. Dates with me do not typically involve polite conversation about the weather and who won American Idol. And after the last couple dates, I wanted to make sure that he was ready to keep up.

He was.

Tonite's date featured conversation about farts (almost immediately); why I started hating church; why sex in a Tempur-pedic mattress is substandard (it absorbs all the bounce. Sometimes a little bounce helps); social research; mindfulness training; sick fathers; kayaking (duh); lunch ladies; marriage; divorce; grandma approval and a gazillion other things. We ordered an appetizer that featured the word Poo (actually it was Poh, but it was more fun to pronounce it as "poo") just because we could say "poo." He ordered tofu so that I could try what he got. I gave him half my mango with tofu. He gave me a bowl full of tofu green curry. He paid.

It was a good date.

Truly.

He was easy to talk to. He smiled a lot. He had a lot to say (and I even let him talk a little bit). We have similar childhood and family experiences. He loves his job. He's smart (not always necessarily true of PhDs). He's balding, but not too badly. He definitely likes me.

Three times during the night, I told him a story, and his response was "your face just totally lit up when you started talking about that." (no, I wasn't talking about my cats, smart ass. I'm not the crazy cat woman. Yet.) One was a work related thing, one was kayaking and the other was bluegrass music. I liked that he noticed how these things affect me and how much I like to talk about them.

We met at 7:30 and left at 11 when then restaurant was closing. He didn't walk me to my car, but it was a small parking lot and the car was within sight. He hugged me and kissed me briefly. Then we talked about a second date. Actually, we talked about date 1.5, because date 2 is supposed to be the rodeo and scheduling isn't really working out for it. Then we talked about random stuff. Then I said "I gotta go!" and we hugged and quickly kissed again.

I'm not usually a fan of the first date kiss - any kind of first date kiss, but it wasn't make out-y. It was more of a "I'm letting you know that I like you and I had a good time" kiss. His hug was excellent. It was super squeezy. I love being squished in a hug. Love it. Love it. Love it.

(I think it has something to do with lack of affection during childhood, which we also talked about. Damn. No topic was off limits.)

I had a really good week this week (more on that later) and this was a really good way for it to end. It totally makes up for my recent bad dates.

I think I might really like this guy... Commence destructive relationship behaviors!

Engineer vs. Professor

Wow.  I just had a really good first phone conversation with the Professor.  We have a date set for Friday.  Please let him look like a normal human being so I can actually let myself like him.  We talked for about an hour, maybe a little more.  I did a lot of the talking (I'm sure this surprises you) but he held his own.  I didn't hold back much - we have already discussed my ego and he already compared me to Stalin, but then conceded that I was more of a communist than a fascist. I'm not even total sure I know what a fascist is, but would agree anyway. 

I like him.  He was funny, he shared stuff about himself, he is intelligent and he is mostly vegetarian.  We cut to the chase and even discussed relationships - not previous, but what we were looking for in new relationships.  Seems that we could be compatible in that realm too.  I'm at least looking forward to meeting him, and if all goes well, we have decided that our second date will be the rodeo.  He suggested it as a joke, not knowing that there actually is a rodeo fairly close by.  Ha, ha!  Sucker!  Now you have to take me to the rodeo.  

Is this the excuse I need to buy a pair of cowboy boots?

Now, about that Engineer.  You, dear readers, were quite split on what I should do but most of you thought I should give it a second chance.  So, I'm going to.  I emailed him back today and answered his question of "How did I do?" by telling him that he definitely seemed nervous, but that first dates are difficult and its always good to go out again to get rid of the first meeting jitters.  I also told him that it might be June before I could schedule something again.  My suspicion is that it won't happen, but if I have time in June and he still has interest, I will do it again.  

The thing is, I finally realized who the engineer reminded me of -- Steve, the engineer.  Steve was a guy I went out with three years ago (I can't believe its been three years).  He was really nice and really liked me, and reminded me of Ned Flanders, which actually became my nickname for him.  He tried to kiss me once.  It was bad.  Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad.  Like kissing your mom, if you mom had no lips.  Oh, yuck yuck yuck yuck.  It was bad. 

Now that I've made that connection, I want to go out with the engineer again like I want to bash my head into another pointy rock.  But, I've said that I would and I will stick to that.  I know they are different people; but its difficult not to associate one with the other.  

PS - I've picked a new first date place for the Professor date.  A new Malaysian restaurant that is reasonably priced and friends have said really good things about.  I wonder if he will have the good sense to walk me to my car?

Nervous Ticks

Friday was such a busy day that I started to regret planning that date with the engineer.  We did a site tour with some folks from out of town and were outside for good portion of the day.  I had a headache from squinting or too much caffeine or hormones or all three, so I actually had to take a migraine pill and lay down for about 45 minutes before getting ready for the date. My migraine pill really makes me feel drugged - my arms and legs feel heavy and I walk kinda slow. Not the best way to start off with a new guy.

Unless the guy you are starting off with is a chemical engineer.  In retrospect, it was probably a really good thing that I was a bit under the influence of nerve numbing drugs.  

I was in command from the moment he got there; and before.  We went to a brew pub with an outdoor deck.  It was a pretty nice day so I wanted to sit outside; so I made a reservation.  In my name, of course.  He was late.  (WTF?  This is 0-2)  And he was nervous.  And quiet.  Almost like a repeat of a couple weeks ago, except possibly worse.

Our waiter was awesome, and knew his beer.  He came over immediately and it was clear that he could handle the Susan personality; so I bantered and gave him a hard time.  My date?  Not so much.  He kinda sat there with a bewildered look on his face as I went back and forth with the waiter on beer selections, menu items etc.  Date was even more bewildered when my banter netted us samples of all the belgian brews in the house, plus a couple bonus ones.  Like he didn't know it was possible to charm someone into giving you stuff for free.  

I worked really hard to make Engineer feel comfortable and to try to draw him out.  I asked a lot of questions.  He didn't really ask me any.  I told lots of stories.  He didn't really have any; or at least any that were interesting.  I couldn't quite follow what he does for a living, but it sounds boring.  He's a runner and runs almost daily; but without music.  I asked what kind of music he likes and he said "oh, all kinds."  This is short for "I listen to whatever is on the radio and pay absolutely no attention to the indie music scene."  I dropped a couple easy band names - no go.  I can't imagine hanging with someone who doesn't get excited about good music.

I told lots of long stories, including the one about how, once upon a time, in college, I had a lot of bumper stickers on my car.  One of them was anti a large chemical corporation.  Lots of people work for that company around here and I got lots of dirty looks and lots of mean notes under my windshield.  (Yes, my bumper sticker made people so mad that they took time out of their day to write me a note in the parking lot of the grocery store.)  I was going to tell him about my other bumper stickers; one was anti-religion, one was pro-gay, one was pro-abortion... But I stopped myself.  This guy is conservative, possibly a believer and was having trouble dealing with me as it was.  Did I need to smack him in the face with my my radical bumper sticker beliefs?  I decided, no.  So I stopped myself.  

Yes Virginia, I am growing up.

He blinked and twitched the entire night.  Kinda a lot.  He rubbed his thighs a lot.  These were indications of severe social distress.  I suspect that in his life, he avoids people like me. Gregarious, loud, pushy people like me.  I really tried to make it as easy as possible on him, and by the end he was laughing a little bit.  He started to pick on me.  The waiter asked if I wanted a box for my last little slice of personal pizza, and instead of saying "no thanks" I said something like "well, I would, but then I would take it home, and not eat, then it grow stuff, then it would smell and then I would throw it away anyway, so if you could just save me the trouble, I'd appreciate it."

He looked at me and said "it wasn't possible for you to just say yes, was it?" 

No.  I'm not really a yes/no person.  I like to explain my answer.  Even though most people don't care.  He's definitely a yes/no person.  What fun is that?

Lucky for me, I had be be awake at 5:30 the next morning for a kayaking trip, so got out of there early, though not really early enough.  I was ready to go at 9:30, but I had told him over email that I needed to leave by 10, so felt trapped into extending it a bit.  It was nearly 10:30 by the time I got in my car.

Here are two indications that he wasn't interested in a second date (besides the twitching):

1.  He made no attempt to pay.  He finally picked up the bill and started looking at it.  If he wanted to pay, he would have snapped a credit card into it, or paid it while I was in the ladies room, text messaging to my friends how bored I was.

2.  He didn't walk me to my car.  Honestly, I was surprised by this.  I am a feminist for sure, but its just polite to walk me close to my car so I don't get mugged.  We split in the parking lot about halfway between both.  Actually, I think it might have been closer to his car.  I guess I was in charge all night; maybe he expected me to walk him to his car.

However, at the end of the night, he did have trouble keeping his eyes on my face.  There were a LOT of downward glances at my chest.  It did look good, so I mean, I'm sure the guy couldn't help himself, but you should probably protect that chest in the parking lot if you liked it that much.  Just saying.

But, I was wrong about how he perceived the whole date situation.  I got an email from him the next day saying that he had a good time, and that it was the easiest date he had been on in a while (uh, yeah, I did all the damn work) and that he's be up for doing it again.  He said that he was usually pretty quiet on a first date, but that it was impossible to do that with me.  Seriously, that was him not being quiet?  Wow.  

I haven't responded.  I don't know whether to lie to him "sure, but give me a couple weeks because its the end of the semester and I'm swamped" or to say "listen, you only got about 75% of my personality and about 15% of my opinions; you don't really want to go out again.  Trust me."  Or I can never respond and let him think I've drowned in a kayak accident.  I'm pretty sure that would get me into some kind of serious karmic trouble though.  

On my drive home, I had a couple minutes of severe sadness.  In an unfortunate coincidence, or just because I like the place so much, the brew pub is also the place I had my first date with BB (and with at least five other guys that I can remember and probably countless others that I don't) and it was impossible not to draw comparisons.  Or to wonder whether there is anyone, anyone, that I'm going to click with like that again.  Not that its a lot, but I've gone on dates with six men in the past year and there wasn't a single second date among them.  Its discouraging.  And I'm finding myself once again wondering why I even bother.

A dating brief

Wrinkly shirt guy never contacted me again.  I would have given him a second chance on the advice of just about everyone, but it was not to be.  I definitely scared that one off.

But that's ok, because I am going out with the engineer this Friday.  

:)

Could Match.com be working?

My match.com profile went live about two weeks ago, after I decided that there had to be someone more interesting than wrinkled shirt guy.  And yes, I have been disappointed with my options; I think I've aged out of the cool people because my options are really, really much slimmer than they were when I was match.comming in my late 20's.  I will also admit that I'm not really doing my due diligence either - I'm not searching boys, winking at boys or emailing boys.  I just don't really feel like it.  Right now, I'm too busy to stay up until 2 am, shopping for men, so I've been waiting for them to come to me.  90% of those who have come to me via wink or email totally suck.  But, surprisingly, I am actually having good email conversations with not one, not two, but three men who are not totally ugly, have good jobs, don't live with their parents and appreciate my brand of humor.  Of course, these are email conversations.  How they will rate in real life remains to be seen.

The leader is a 33 year old engineer who lives only about 20 miles away (jackpot!).  I almost didn't email him because he hasn't posted a photo; but I took a chance.  And friends, good thing I did.  He sent me a picture in his first email and he is pretty cute - for an engineer (apologies to any well-dressed, hip engineers out there, but have you seen your colleagues recently? Seriously.)  I really have enjoyed his emails - he's insightful; he's picking up things about my personality; he's active... This may translate into "he's boring," but for right now, I have a good feeling about the guy.  We have moved onto trying to find a time to meet.  

He also hasn't been "active" on match for 5 days.  We have been emailing through gmail - this means he hasn't logged on to find any other girls since he started emailing me.  Granted, he could be emailing hundreds of girls, but he doesn't seem the type.  It actually is putting a bit of pressure on me.  He likes me (and maybe some others) enough that he's not shopping anymore. He's put me in the cart and is wheeling me towards the checkout.  

I'm not sure I'm totally ready to be purchased yet.  Maybe a short-term lease.

In second place is the professor.  Also about 20 miles away.  Not as cute, but is mostly vegetarian and into the type of music that I like.  His emails have gotten shorter and less interesting, but so have mine.  Its the end of the semester and I think he has lots of stuff on his plate.  Ditto for me.  We have also moved into trying to find a time to meet.

In third place, the older guy.  He is 41 and has a 10 year old daughter.  I really am not into kids, but a 10 year old I think I could handle, for the right guy.  He's also older than my preferred age range, but his profile was a riot, and his emails have been the most entertaining of all three guys.  But, from his emails, he seems a bit ADD.   Which could be fun, for dating.  For long term, annoying.  We are only on email exchange 2 or 3, so it will likely be a while before we meet.

I am determined to go out with all three of these men, and maybe more, before settling back down with one (or even two).  I feel the need to really experience lots of different personalities and types (like I'm trying on shoes!), get as many free dinners as possible, and have some fun.

And I'll have lots of stories for you to read while you procrastinate at work.  You know who you are.

100% Grandma Approved Lifestyle

Today was my Momom's 80th birthday.  And I remembered!  And I called her.

She is always surprised to hear from me on birthdays and other special occasions.  I don't really know why.  I used to have three grandmas and two grandpas (my great grandparents lived until i was in my early 20's).  Now its down to her.  Its not really that difficult to remember the birthday of one grandparent.  Five, maybe.  One, no.

We chatted for a while, about what, I don't know.  Kayaking, the NYC trip, the Mexico trip...  She said: "You know, I envy you.  I would give anything to live the way you live.  I wish I'd had the good sense to not marry your grandfather and live my life."  But of course, had she not married popop, I wouldn't be here to be having these conversations with.

Momom certainly regrets marriage and babies.  She wasn't really a marriage and babies kind of girl, I don't think.  But back in the day though, you weren't allowed to be single and travel and experience the world without being a disgrace and disappointment to your parents.  She is truly supportive about my lifestyle and about my constant single-ness.  She encourages me to travel more; offering up financial help if there is an opportunity to travel that I can't afford.  I would never take her up on it, of course, but its nice to know that she's there for me.  My own wheelchair bound lifestyle cheerleader.

Most single girls my age are starting to take heat from family members and friends about getting married, settling down, and having babies.  Its so refreshing that mine actively encourage me not to! Of course, both my great grandma, momom, and mother had marriages that were less than enviable; its hard to encourage me to do something that left them miserable for decades, or a lifetime.

It was such a nice conversation, and it came at a time when I am really appreciating once again the benefits of being single, saying yes to things and packing the schedule full of activities with a variety of friends (and total strangers).   

Thanks grandma.  Happy Birthday.  Let's hope like hell you've got a few more in you.

A Quasi Non-Date

Today was dreary and overcast - the perfect kind of day for sleeping late, watching re-runs of Sex and the City, procrastinating, recycling and maybe cleaning a little bit.  The house is a disaster zone.  I don't really know how this happens (though 10 dollars says it has something to do with the fact that instead of tidying up every night, I blog and stalk people on facebook).

On my way to recycle, I picked up a new bra and some cute undies, and a new mattress pad.  The items were totally unrelated, but it sure seems like I have major plans, huh?  Let's freaking hope I have cause to combine those purchases sometime before the end of the year. But I can say with absolute certainty that it won't be happening this weekend.

In the name of saying yes more often, I accepted an offer to go to Pete Seeger's 90th birthday bash at Madison Square Garden tomorrow.  On a school night.  With this guy.  The guy I had an awkward lunch date with in November.  The guy who doesn't drink.  The guy who is a terrible conversationalist.  But, he's also the guy that begged me to go with him to this show and told me he would sell me the ticket $30 less than he bought it for.  And he would drive.  How do you say no to that?

The answer is, you don't.  I'm sure it will be fine.  If I can drink.

I am positive that he has no interest in me romantically; I think I'm way too overbearing for his meek personality.  He already has left the planning up to me: "We can drive in.  Or we can take the train.  Whatever you want to do is fine with me." Dude!  You are the one driving to the show in your brand new Passat - you should probably have an opinion on whether you want it to ever set wheel in the Holland Tunnel.  Why are so many boys afraid to have an opinion around me? 

The major problem is, its a looooong show.  And a looong drive.  We are leaving around noon or so.  Show starts at 5, and lasts until its over.  Probably midnight?  Or until Pete Seeger falls asleep.  I'm looking forward to it, but am afraid that our seats will suck and I'll be bored.  And I'm afraid that he will suck and I will be bored.  

Arugh!  How do I get myself into these situations?  Though really, worst case scenario, I'll be bored and out 100 bucks.  Big deal.  I could stay at home and be bored just as well.  Now I'll have a good story for the water cooler on Monday morning.  If I can make it to work on Monday morning...

Happy Blog Day to me!

Today marks the year anniversary of my very first blog post.  Gifts are not necessary, but would be much appreciated (can I have a bloggy shower?  I mean, let's face it, nobody is ever going to have to buy me any other kind of shower gifts).

I'd like to say I've come a long way in the past year, but really, I haven't.  This spring pretty much mirrored last spring in a Bill Murray/Groundhog Day kind of way.  Last May, I was still a total mess over BB:  randomly crying for no reason; prone to panic attacks for no reason; feeling like I'd lost something all the time (what am I missing?  Oh yeah! The boy that I love).  This May, I'm harvesting asparagus from the garden, smiling, singing in the car, working out (sometimes), rolling my kayak, and making plans. And, most importantly, I'm terrorizing new and unsuspecting young men on first dates.  

But there was still crying, panic, loss and recovery this year.  It just happened in March and April.  And January.  And February...

In my first blog post, I talked about this new feeling of wanting to be in a committed relationship.  Yeah, not so much.  I'm more gun-shy of that now than ever before.  I'm more super-critical of relationships and perceived gender roles than ever before.  I think boys are more stupid than ever before (wonder why?).  

And just when I need them the most, my friends Beer and Wine, even in limited quantity, are causing me more hangovers than ever before.  Damn you, aging liver!

So, what hasn't changed in the last year?  I'm still single.  I'm still a bit bitter.  I'm still cynical. My family still has issues.  I've got the same car, house, job, cell phone, pets, grill and can of garbanzo beans (seriously.  Its a really big can and I haven't felt like making that much hummus). 

What has changed?  I'm more appreciative of the benefits that come with being single for the long-term.  I'm saying "yes" more often.  I'm realizing the real importance of working towards goals.  I can roll my kayak.  My emotional scars are fading...

But I'm not where I wanted to be according to year-ago-me.  And I'm not where I want to be according to right-now-me. 

Actually, right-now-me has no idea where she really wants to be, so maybe I'm already there.