Single In New York...
Second Avenue.
Leave a Comment
I will admit that I do have a problem showing emotion to people. Even the people I am most close to. I don’t know why, or where it stems from, but I have always just been afraid to let people see what I was feeling.
I hold myself to higher standard than I do everyone else. Feelings of sadness and lonliness are not acceptable in my book. At least not for myself. But you cannot always control what you feel. For me to show feelings like to these to another person makes me feel weak, and makes me think that people will perceive me as weak. And that is intolerable for me.
But, here’s where the contradiction comes in. When people express feelings of sadness and lonliness to me, I am envious. I admire them. I think about how strong of a person they are for being able to express those feelings to someone else.
I walked up and down 2nd Avenue last night. And I wished for health and happiness for my little nephew that I love more than anything. I wished that my sister’s wedding would be everything she always wanted it to be. I wished that my dad would not feel restless and worried anymore. I wished that my brother and sister-in-law would get the house of their dreams. I wished that my friend’s job interview went well today. He wants that job more than anything. And I wished that he would get it. I wished that my step-mom would let go of the angry things from her past and enjoy everything and everyone she has today.
And then I stopped. Because I realized that I had wished for things for everyone but myself. What did I want for myself? I was feeling sad and lonely, but could not pick any one thing to wish for that would make me happy. Because really, I am happy. I just didn’t feel it at that moment. And I don’t need anything right now. Nothing worth wishing for anyway. Anything that I need, will come, in time. All in time. And I thought there was no need to waste a perfectly good wish on something that I have been living without, and can live without, and will live without until the time is right.
Better to use those wishes on those who need something. And deserve something.
I turned around and I went home. And I stood in my studio and painted a picture that expressed every emotion I have been feeling for the past few weeks. And looking at it now, I’ll bet that anyone who sees it can guess what I was feeling, and maybe even feel what I was feeling.
And without realizing, I had gotten exactly what I needed. Without wasting a wish.
So I looked out my window. And I wished for the sun to rise.
…And I got exactly what I wished for.
Some more things you’ll love if you date me.
4 Comments
-I will play videogames (preferably Racing games, Tiger Woods, and Mercenaries). I will not, however, let you win. And I do expect you to let me win either.
-I will go see horror, action, and thriller movies and promise not to drag you to go see the new Reese Witherspoon Romantic/Comedy. Because I don’t want to see it either.
-I will let you have your guys’ night. As long as you let me have my night out with my friends. All I ask, is that, should something happen on your guys’ night out (you kiss another girl, get into a fight, etc.) that you think I would want to know about, please just tell me. There’s no reason to keep secrets and hide it from me. And I promise to do the same.
-I won’t nag. I promise. I don’t even really know how to.
-I would go fishing, hiking, camping, and mountain biking with you. (If you want me to.) And won’t complain if I get dirty.
-I will let you teach me something. In fact, I would love it if you taught me something.
-I will NEVER tell you that you can’t do something that you want to do. A weekend away with the boys, hanging out with that friend I don’t like (I’ve actually never dated a guy who had a friend I didn’t like, but just in case), spend your hard earned money on something silly, etc.
-I promise not to call/text a thousand times a day. To be honest, I hate when a guy does it just as much as you guys hate when a girl does it.
-I promise that I will always be there for you. I will help you when you need it, give you space when you need it, and try to make you laugh as often as possible.
-I will always be faithful. I give my word.
I hope that I can explain myself properly…
1 Comment
Earlier today I wrote a post about what it would be like if you (a guy) dated me titled “Guide to Dating a Casual Gal Like Myself”. An anonymous reader replied this back to my message:
“Anon said,
Dating isn’t that hard. I find that people who “date” the most are just in love with dating and aren’t really into finding someone no matter how much they profess their desire to find someone. They are “professional” daters.
I’m curious as to whether you are sexually intimate with any of the guys you date. I find that professional daters are pretty immature when it comes to intimacy and date as means to avoid any meaningful physical, and corresponding emotional, intimacy.”
I started to reply to this message in a comment and realized that I had much more to say on the matter than I originally thought that I did. So here it goes, and I hope to not be misunderstood.
But I have to say that it saddens me that not only did you perceive me to be this way, but that I was not writing clearly enough, or perhaps not sharing all of the right information. Or that I am not writing exactly how I am feeling, or that I am not writing well at all. I’m not sure.
But I hope this helps:
Anon – I have to say that I was slightly offended by your comment. But only slightly. Because I know-I mean, I hope-you did not mean to directly offend me. I do completely understand what you are saying. There are so many people in this world who lead a life just like the one you described. I’m friends with some of those people. But I can assure that you that I am not one of those people.
While dating seems to be fun for the moment, I know that I will NOT turn into one of those serial daters. I have only been single since February, and this is my first time being single since October of 2003. My first date since my split with my ex was not until almost May. I have been on what some may call “many” dates I suppose. But everyone has their own interpretation of what “many” is. While the amount of dates may sound like a lot to some people, there have only been three worth mentioning/dating more than once. There were a couple of those “one-daters” that were not even worth mentioning/dating at all. None of those men were anything serious to me, and not because I subconsciously did not want them to be, but because there was nothing there. No connection. No spark. No attraction. No compatibility. Those things are important.
How am I to find the right one for me if I don’t go out and date people? For all I know Mr. Right could ask me out tomorrow. If I turn him down, taking your advice of trying not to become a serial dater, I could miss out on my true love.
And my sexual experiences are absolutely nobody’s business other than my own. However, I feel that I have nothing to hide. And will share some very personal information with you, with all of you.
I have not been with anyone, sexually, since my boyfriend and I split up. I’ve never been the type to be able to just sleep with someone. I have to have some kind of a connection with them, some kind of a commitment, a relationship of some sort. And it has to be meaningful.
So I hope this helps you better understand where I am coming from. And I hope that I can further explain myself in the way that I had always thought I was.
Guide to dating a casual gal like myself.
3 Comments
For starters:
I’m shy. But only towards guys I’m interested in and people I’m meeting for the first time. If I have no interest in dating someone I will warm up really quickly. And then out comes the sarcasm and smart-ass remarks. I can’t help it. It’s just who I am.
I will never make the first move. I will never lean in for the first kiss. I will never ask someone out or ask them for their phone number. I won’t even be the first to approach a guy. It’s not that I think the men should do all of the work (because I don’t) I just can’t actually bring myself to do it. Which brings us back to me being shy.
Sometimes I think that a guy wants to kiss me and won’t because I have not “given the green light”. I’m going to he honest. I don’t know how to do that. I wouldn’t know it if I did it. But I can tell you this, when dating a girl like me, trust me, I will let you know if I DON’T want you to kiss me. If you are unsure, I probably want you to kiss me. I am pretty clear about rejection. There is no second guessing there. As rude as it may be.
I don’t want to go to dinner and a movie. I would much prefer a ball game. Or a bar with some good music and cheap drinks. Or just a walk (and a talk). A museum perhaps. Or even a BBQ. I like ‘em casual. There is so much less pressure to deal with that way. Basically, I would prefer a “date” where I can loosen up, so I can open up, and not feel so under-the-spotlight like I can at a dining table in a restaurant.
I have trust issues. And maybe it’s not right to tell people that on a second or third date, but I think it’s only fair to fore-warn a person of just a problem before one or both parties gets too involved, only to be, possibly let down in the end. It takes me a while to let myself truly be open and trust someone with my thoughts, desires, fears, etc. And when I say a while, I mean a year or more.
As long as I feel comfortable around you, I will feel comfortable around your family. I have nothing to hide and feel that (without sounding absurdly vain) I am a good catch. I am the kind of girl your mom and dad would love. I am smart, and funny, and have just the right amount of girl-next-door-quality to captivate the parents with just enough edginess and confidence to keep my man thinking I’m sexy.
I promise that I will not keep you waiting for more than five minutes when we are going out somewhere. While I am a procrastinator and always wait until the last second (and sometimes a few seconds too late) to start getting ready, it really only takes me fifteen minutes to do so. Just know that I will not be sporting short shorts, any kind of skirt/dress whatsoever, paints that look like they’ve been painted on, etc. But I will be wearing jeans that have just enough room for me to breathe, but still fit good enough for you to see my actual shape. My tee shirt with only show my lower back/stomach when I stretch for a yawn or am sitting down and leaning very far forward. But it won’t matter. You won’t need to see my stomach or back, you can tell just by looking at me that I am in shape, take care of my body, and have a nice, flat tummy. Also: I will probably have either no make-up on, or just mascara (depending on what the day’s events entail) so you can actually see my face and everything in it. The tiny dot of a scar on my right cheek where I was stabbed with a pencil when I was in junior high, the always slightly rosy cheeks, and the fact that from far away it looks like I have freckles on my cheeks and nose, but when you look closely you can see that I have them all over my face, they’re just not as dark as some of the others. And when you just glace at them, my eyes appear to be blue/green but if you taker a deeper look you will see that they are actually bright green and you will wonder to yourself “How did I never notice that before?”
I will not let you pay for everything. Everything in a relationship/dating is 50/50. The amount of interest and effort should be equal. Money should be no different. These aren’t the olden days. Us women work now! We can pay for things for ourselves. Hell, if I was not out at the bar with you getting drinks, I would be somewhere else that requires money that I would have to pay anyway. And it’s only fair.
I will not expect flowers (ever!), diamonds (no thanks), or any candy of any kind (yuck). I will not expect you to remember anniversaries, because while they are important, the time we share with each other is so much more important. You cannot measure happiness, not even in time. All I ask is that you want to go on adventures with me, and maybe come up with some adventure ideas of your own. So much more romantic than flowers.
(*Side Note: I do NOT celebrate Valentine’s Day. It’s a sad excuse for florists, greeting card companies, and Russell Stover to make more money than they already do. The day means nothing to me. It’s just another day in the year.)
There are a few things that I do ask of you. And they’re pretty simple in my book.
1.) Don’t tell me you love me unless you mean it.
2.) Don’t lie, cheat, or steal.
3.) Do not expect me to change or try to change me.
4.) Be patient and understanding. I know I can be a handful at times and thick-headed enough to drive a man-and sometimes myself-crazy. And while it may not seem like it, I’m trying. So just bear with me.
5.) Hold me until I fall asleep.
6.) Appreciate the little things in life with me.
7.) Never settle for less than you’re worth.
8.) Always want to try new things, meet new people, and visit new places.
9.) Never give up on me. Never give up on yourself.
10.) Smile with me. At least once a day.
Beautiful, yet beautifully tragic.
1 Comment
This weekend could have gone better. Though, it could have gone worse.
Bad Things/Events/Happenings/Luck (In Chronological Order):
I overslept Saturday morning.
Causing me to miss my originally planned train.
Which caused me to have to cut lunch short with CC Guy.
Creepy guy tried to get my phone number standing outside of Penn Station while smoking a cigarette. (He didn’t know that “No” really meant NO!)
Missed train by 2 and half minutes because of Creey guy.
Had to pay an additional $40 on tickets to get them swapped to a different time.
Purchased Coach tickets first time around, but had to forfeit them when I swapped times and got stuck with a seat in the “quiet car”. That means cell phone off, no headphones, no talking. Thankfully I brought three books. (I always underpack on clothes and other necessitites, but always overpack on books. Just goes to show what’s more important to me.)
Arrived late due to TWO missed trains and had to push back ALL of my meetings.
First meeting-Potential Art Client-I turned down.
Second meeting-Job Interview-Offered me really bad pay.
I got sick in the bathroom of a steakhouse. Twice.
The hotel double booked my room.
Had some drunken guy on the sidewalk follow me for three blocks and ask me the same questions over and over.
I had my wallet stolen right out of my bag. (All of my money, three debit cards-yes, I belong to three banks, don’t ask-four credit cards, hotel room keys, and license.)
Got lost.
Bars closed at 2am.
Was locked out of my hotel room when I returned from the bar.
The hotel was a D-U-M-P! (And expensive.)
Spent the morning at the police station filing a report for the stolen wallet causing me to miss my free breakfast at the hotel.
Third meeting-Publisher-Made no sense to me. Everything went right over my head. Too bad I’m not a lawyer (or a mathmetician), I may have understood what she was talking about better.
Missed my train.
Had to pay ANOTHER $40 to swap times again. (Or wait at the train station for almost six hours. Alone. With no money.)
Stuck in quiet car again.
Second train got delayed “due to police activity” for over an hour.
Good Things/Events/Happenings/Luck (In Chronological Order):
Train was fairly empty. Thankfully.
Arrived earlier than expected. (Even though I missed my first train.)
First Meeting-Potential Art Client-While I turned down the opportunity to paint a mural on a wall in his house, I did agree to paint five paintings (for a great price) for him to hang at his house.
Second Meeting-Job Interview-While they offered me terrible pay, I did explain to them that I was not looking for a job. They found me and contacted me. They wanted me to leave my job and move there to work for them. While, career wise, that would be a great opportunity, they had to at least match my pay for me to pick up and leave. They said they would contact me during the week.
Met up with MySpace man. (Who is MUCH better looking in person than he is on the computer. And sweet and smart, incredibly insightful and philosophical. We got along really well and had a good time, despite the fact that I was feeling horrible for the first two hours we were hanging out. What was supposed to be “meeting up for drinks” turned into drinks, walking, sitting by the water, and talking for almost eight hours. Intense!)
So that pretty much sums up my weekend.
P.S. Did I mention that MySpace guy was really cute? And funny? And sweet, smart, and everything else that I find wonderful in a man?
In response to…
3 Comments
Am I religious? « Starting Today…
I was reading Starting Today’s blog this morning (as I do every morning) and noticed that she had a post about religion. Now, while I was taught that some things should never be discussed publicly (i.e. religion, politics, and baseball depending on the who you’re rooting for and who everyone else is rooting for) I don’t always think my parents had it right.
There is nothing wrong with a healthy debate.
First, some back story:
I was raised Catholic. My mother was religious. Made us all go to church every Sunday. My dad never went. It was always Mom, my brother, sister and I. We went to CCD classes once a week at night to “study” the bible and the history in Catholicism. We each made our first communion and my brother and sister had made their confirmations. I was just a child and always thought that being Catholic was the right thing to do. I never thought that people of different religions were wrong for NOT being Catholic. I just that since my mom had raised us to be that way, that’s the way it was meant to be.
We prayed every night before bed. We did not, however, say Grace before meals. (Go figure.) My mom was diagnosed with Cancer in 1990. She never lost faith. Not even when things got rough. She was severely sick and in and out of the hospital all of the time. When she was not around, my Aunt brought us all to church for her. My Grandmother (mom’s mom) was diagnosed with Cancer not even a year after my mom was. My mom’s parents lived with us. My dad (being as handy as he is) had turned our garage into a separate apartment for them adding a large master bedroom upstairs with two walk-in closets, their own bathroom, kitchen, and living room downstairs. They were a second set of parents for my brother, sister, and I.
When my grandmother started noticeably get sick I started to question things about my religion. “How do we know that the stories in the Bible are real? Couldn’t they just be made up and we would never know because the people who actually wrote them died a long time ago?”
“SINY! Go see Sister Agnes right away!” I was always being punished for asking questions. Here I was, being taught that “God” gave us all free will and imagination. And yet, a curious child was being punished, for what? Being curious.
My mom passed away in 1994. She still never lost faith. She still believed that “God” had bigger plans for her. And that this was how it was supposed to be. As much as it broke her heart to leave us, her children, she felt that “God” had a mission for her to help others. And that “God” didn’t think we needed her, but someone else did.
I felt like, if “God” needed her to help someone else… Couldn’t she live? And help them while I was at school? And then come home, have dinner with us as usual, help me with my homework, and then tuck me in? Did she need to die to help someone? Because I know it didn’t help me. Or anyone else in my family for that matter.
It was October 27th, 1994 when she passed. I was nine. My brother was sixteen and my sister fourteen. We didn’t take it lightly. (As you may have guessed.) My grandmother was getting worse and worse in the meantime. And as “Starting Today” mentioned, I felt the same way. There was no way that if “God” did exist, he wouldn’t make us lose her too. It was too soon. And we weren’t prepared. But “He” did. She passed away January 2nd, 1995. My grandfather (mom’s dad) was not sick. He died of a broken heart March 10th, 1995.
How could “God” be so cruel? It’s been almost thirteen years since they’ve been gone. And since I lost my best friend in a car accident. I didn’t think I would make another friend. We were thirteen. I thought I would never be as close with anyone ever again. That changed. I made another friend. We were sixteen. She was killed in a car accident. And still I made another friend. And I had a boyfriend too. My boyfriend drowned May of my senior year of high school. He was eighteen. And then my best friend died in a car accident, seventeen years old. The night before my high school graduation. He was on his way over to my house. He never made it. My dad, being in the fire department, responded to the call, and I was the first to find out.
That’s it. No more friends. No more boyfriends.
But that changed. Again. I started dating this guy I met at a Halloween party. He was killed in February of 2004.
I lost my other grandfather in December of 2005. Two friends to the Iraqi war in 2006. And another boy I dated in 2006 to a motorcycle accident.
And just this year alone, I lost three people I went to school with (two of which I was rather close) to drug overdoses.
Does it ever end? Can I ever believe that there is a “God” out there who “watches over us”? And “protects us”? Because where was “He” when those people needed protecting. Where was “He” when I needed protecting?
So the conclusion is that I am not religious. I was raised to be. Made my communion. I even made my confirmation after my mom had passed even though I didn’t believe in it. I did it for her, I know she would have wanted me to.
I am spiritual. There are too many religions in this world, and I cannot conform to just one. I believe certain things from one and certain things from things from others. But there are things that I don’t agree with as well. So I cannot categorize myself as a particular religion. At least not at this point in my life.
Who knows… One day I might be able to. As of right now, there are still many things I need to learn, many things I need to experience, and there will always be many things I question.
It’s Thursday. And I’m Nervous.
1 Comment
I am nervous to meet this potential client.
I am nervous to meet the publisher.
I am nervous to go on this interview.
And I am nervous to meet my fellow painter friend.
It’s getting down to the wire and I am both excited and scared to go. I am excited and scared to travel alone. I am excited and scared to make a drastic change in my life.
My sister is getting married this New Year’s Eve. My nephew is just starting to stand on his own. So his first steps are just around the corner. My brother and sister-in-law are house hunting. I want to be here with everyone. But I want to be out on my own… alone.
I am caught at a giant in-between. I feel like I don’t know what it is that I want out of life anymore. I know the goals that I want to achieve, I have wanted the same ones since as long as I can remember. But there are so many new ones I want in life as well. And I’m having a hard time deciding which ones are most important to me at this moment in my life.
I suppose the most ambitious move I could make is to attempt to achieve all of them and just be happy with the ones I succeed at. But will the order in which I strive to reach them effect the ability to achieve others? And if that’s the case, which ones do I go for first? And which ones last?
I know. I’m not making sense. And for that, I apologize. I just have a lot on my mind (and on my plate).
Please forgive me. And please wish me luck.
Peaceful Protests and Holding Cells
Leave a Comment
So there I was. Trapped in a box. The floor and ceiling were made of cement as were two of the walls. The other two remaining walls were not walls at all, but iron grids that greatly resembled a cage you would keep a puppy in when he goes to the bathroom on the carpet. I was sitting on a cement bench with five other people thinking that I was so proud of myself. I stood up for what I believe in. I made sure to get my point across. I got the publicity we needed. And I represented thousands of people who were not fortunate enough to express their feelings to the world (or as much of the East coast that was watching). My spirit was not tarnished by the politicians hissing and booing at all who stood before them, fearless, determined, and opinionated. Myself included.
Then I got my first phone call. When I spoke to my father about what had happened, what was said, and what I had done he was less than enthused with the fact that he had to wire money to bail myself and two of my friends out of jail in Washington D.C. I could hear the “I told you so” in his tone when he told me again about how he had warned me not to go. Though he had always encouraged me to make a stand and not back down without a fight if I truly believe in something, this was my third arrest in less than six months, all for expressing my political views. Still my spirit was not weakened.
I had been interviewed by two news anchors about my beliefs and purpose behind participating in the rally that Saturday afternoon. I was ecstatic. Finally, a chance to voice my opinion. Finally, I would no longer be just another face in the crowd. I had heard twenty other testimonies before me and was thrilled that I was chosen to speak on thousands behalf. I was one of the few that had something intelligent to say. I was not there to show hate towards our nation’s President. I was not there to protest against the entire United States government. I was there to show that I do not supports certain things that are taking place in our government and military at this moment in time.
After over twenty-four hours in a holding cell in Washington D.C. with thirty four other protesters, I got to breathe fresh air and see sunshine. I was exhausted. I smelled of stale cigarettes, body odor, urine and morning breath. After only a few moments outside I light a cigarette, pull the sunglasses off the top of my head, put them on my face and call my sister.
“Hey!”
“Where have you been?”
“I spent the night in a holding cell.”
“Great.”
“As bad as it was, it was totally worth it. I got some good exposure for the cause I think.”
“Oh yea. I saw that.”
“You did? How was it? How much air-time did I get?”
She doesn’t say a word.
“Well? How was it? Did Dad see it?”
“Yea. We all saw it.”
“Ok?”
“It wasn’t good, SINY.”
“What do you mean? I had important things to say.”
“I’m not saying you didn’t. But they didn’t portray you that way. I can tell they edited it. They took things you said out of context and called all of you guys Anarchists.”
“What? Anarchists? Because we won’t conform to rules that should not be in effect? Because we’re not afraid to stand up and put up a fight because we know it’s wrong? Are they kidding?”
“SINY, I’m really sorry. It didn’t look good. I recorded it if you want to see it when you get home. When are you coming home anyway?”
“We’re getting something to eat and then we’re leaving. And I do want to see it.”
“Alright. I’ll see you in a few hours. Oh, I got engaged by the way.”
My spirit had finally been crushed. Just what they wanted all along.
We are far from Anarchists. And I will fight for the things I believe in until the day I die, whether they like it or not. Arrests won’t scare us or quiet us.
Next rally I attend I will have a pocket constitution with me to read myself my rights when they try to cuff me.
…And I missed my only sister’s engagement.
Across the Universe.
2 Comments
“Sounds of laughter, Shades of Earth are ringing
Through my open ears enticing and inviting me
Limitless undying love shines around me like a
Million suns and calls me on and on
Across the universe.”
While I am not traveling across the universe, I am headed a few states away next weekend. By myself.
I donated some paintings two years ago to an art gallary in the Village to help raise money for Cancer research. One client bought three of the five paintings I donated. He contacted the art dealer who gave him my information. He wants to hire me to paint a few murals in his home and a few paintings as well to hang in various rooms. I am unbelievably flattered. So I scheduled a meeting with him next weekend to survey the rooms for color schemes, inspiration, and dimensions.
I also have a job interview with a newpaper there to write a column about love, dating, and advice. I think it’s very interesting. They actually contacted me through wordpress.com and want to meet with me and discuss a possible contract writing for them. So I managed to schedule my meeting with them for the same weekend, since they’re in the same city.
Also, I got a call from a publishing company there. I was very surprised since I have written many books and many short stories and never sent a single one to any publishers. I took this creative writing class at the local community college a few years back. One of our assignments was to write a children’s book and I decided to illustrate it myself rather than have one of the art students do it for me, like most of the people in my class did. Appartently my professor took it upon herself to send my book out to an editor and a few publishers. Again, all in the same city. So I have a meeting with the publisher that weekend as well. Funny, I always thought my first book to get published would be a memior, not a children’s book. But, we’ll see how it goes. No promises yet.
But it makes me wonder. There are so many things pulling me toward this city lately. Is it a sign? Should that be my next destination? I might want to give it a try, even if it’s only temporary. I thought I would always be a New Yorker. But perhaps it’s time for a change of pace.
Here’s the dilemma though. A few posts back I mentioned this fellow artist that I met on MySpace. (Pathetic, I know.) Anyway, it turns out he doesn’t live too far from where I’m headed. I told him the news of my upcoming travels and possible life-altering opportunities ahead of me. I knew he would be excited for me, and he was. Forgetting that he lives about 40 minutes away, he writes me back:
“Are you going to be meeting up with any friends there? If you are, and are there for a few days, let me know. I’ll come out for a drink. Is that weird? Hey for all I know, you may show up as a 6′4″ dude named paul! I’d be disappointed.”
I e-mailed him back right away without even thinking about it.
“Unfortunately, all the people I know that live there, don’t live there anymore. Many of them have come back to good ole New York and others have ventured off into new endeavors across the rest of the U.S. So I am traveling alone. I will have no car, no one there I know, and no computer. (Seeing as how my laptop is temporarily out of commision.) Traveling alone can be… lonely. I would love the company.”
Is it weird that I just replied to that so quickly without really thinking it through? I mean for all I know he could be a 56 year old child molestor. Wait… No. I would be too old for his taste then. Alright, he could be a 56 year old serial killer. (I don’t know why his age would matter if he was a serial killer…)
This morning I was thinking about what I had written to him the night before. And I was almost regretting saying that and wishing there was an “unsend” option. But then I thought about it some more and realized that I really wouldn’t mind meeting him for a drink. And that I really wouldn’t mind the company. So I suppose, if he’s ok with it, I’m going to go through with it.
I will however, make sure we’re in a well populated area. Just to be safe. 
Dating without Drama.
1 Comment
Why must dating be so complicated at times? Can’t things just go smoothly? You meet a guy, you connect, you exchange numbers, go out one night, you either like him or you don’t, he either likes you or he doesn’t. Simple as that.
I wish.
There’s all sorts of factors that come in to play that people don’t take into account if they’re not single themselves. My sister thinks that since I have been single since February I should be settled down with someone else by now. Not as easy as it sounds. Plus, I’m not even really sure that I want to settle down with someone at this moment in my life.
“I don’t understand why he wouldn’t call you back!” She screams out of anger. She’s even more upset about than I am. All I did was shrug my shoulders and say oh well.
“No big deal. He’s just not that into me. Plently of fish in the sea.”
“Yea… But… Why wouldn’t he be into you? You’re smart, funny, beautiful, caring. I could go on and on.”
“Please don’t.” She gives me that look. You know the one. Where she’s thinking “I really could go on and on, but I know you don’t believe me, and you’re an idiot for not believing me.”
“It’s really not a big deal. I wasn’t so into him either. I mean he was great and all. Nothing negative or unattractive about him. He really did have the whole package.”
“So what was the problem?”
“No spark. No connection. That, and he obviously wasn’t that into me. That’s kind of important.”
“He’s stupid. If he can’t see how great you are, then he doesn’t deserve you.”
“That doesn’t make him stupid. It just means that we are not compatible. For all I know he did think I was great and I’m just not his type.”
“How are you not his type? You’re EVERYONE’S type! You’re perfect.”
“No one is perfect. And honestly? I could go on about this forever, but I really just don’t feel like it. It’s not even a big deal. I don’t even care.”
She lets out a sigh of frustration. “His loss.”
“Whatever you say.” I roll my eyes when she’s not looking. Why is she making a big deal about it? We went on two dates for Christ’s sake! And I don’t even care. It’s not like I was upset and she was trying to be a good sister by siding with me and bashing him behind his back. I was actually defending him. Probably because I’ve been in his shoes before.
It is possible to be a good person, smart, funny, ambitious, kind, a not bad to look at to meet someone who has all the same qualities and just not click. I understood it, I don’t know why she couldn’t. Not everyone has to like to me. And I don’t have to like everyone.
My sister has been in a serious relationship with the same guy for the past seven years. No engagement so far. But we all know they will get married. They bought a house two years ago and he’s saying the reason they’re not yet married is because with the mortgage and everything he can’t afford a ring right now. She doesn’t even want a ring. Or a big wedding. But he insists on a ring.
She’s twenty-seven years old. So she hasn’t been single since she was twenty. And before that she dated a guy for two years. With no other men in between the two. So she has no clue what the dating world is like. So I suppose I can be understanding of her whole take on it. The only things she knows about dating she learns from me – her little sister – or movies, which, let’s face it, are not a good source of knowledge.
I’ve got three dates this weekend. She thinks that’s a little excessive.
“What happens if you really like one of them? Then what of the other two?”
“I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”
What can I say? I like to keep my options open.
