You Do the Math

A couple of weeks ago, my mother suggested I consider joining a singles group at a local church. Because I had been whining about being so bored and having no life., etc, she was doing what moms do - try to make it better.

However, I told her that, incredibly, I don't think the problem is that I am wanting to date somebody. Or am sad that I'm not. No, really. I'm bored with my job at work and I kinda suck at it, too, which is not good. And the book I've been working on for something like a year and a half is at the printer and I'm ready for it to be here and in the interim I'm eaten up with anxiety and boredom in pretty much equal parts.

One thing her suggestion did make me think about thougth was this: Since last fall I have been on any number of dates. At one time I went so far as to call myself a "dating phenom," which totally came back to bite me in the ass, as boasting is wont to do. For close to a year now, all but ONE of the dates I've had have been a result of online dating. Seriously. There has been only one real live person around here who saw me and simply had to ask me out.

This is how I'm at least relatively sure I'll be back on eharmony by winter.

Perhaps There Is Such a Thing as Too Much Introspection

You know what I am now? Grownup enough to delay gratification. So throw me a freaking party.

Anytime anyone says, “You have to play the game,” or “Don’t let them know how interested you are,” I tune out and shut down. At the first sign of this well-meaning advice, I go deaf. Because I stubbornly cling to the idea of just not having found that right person yet, that I’m not going to “settle,” that instead I’ll wait and be alone until I find that right guy and can truly be myself.

Yeah, right.

The reality is I’ve probably cheated myself out of any number of relationships by being too eager, too transparent, too willing to drop or change plans in order to see a guy, or worse, make no plans in hopes that I’ll be seeing the guy.

If I had played it a little smarter, shown a little bit of restraint – delayed my gratification, in other words – maybe I’d still be in one of those relationships.

The flip side to that is, Do I want a relationship in which I have to constantly monitor myself, judiciously doling out compliments and phone calls so as not to appear too eager?

Um, no, but the choice is between that and nothing or going it my way, which inevitably leads to getting hurt.

Seems that to have a relationship, to sustain it, is to not ever really let go and have that fast-down-a-roller-coaster feeling that you get only in those giddy early days of a relationship when you really like him and he really likes you. Or maybe that’s an ABC After School Special I’m thinking of and not real life.

Sometimes being a grownup just sucks. All these grownup rules are proven and unfortunately they work. It makes me feel sad and want to mourn for the time before I knew better.

But fine. I’ll know better next time – ever there is a next time (pardon my melodrama).

What I feel most right now is resignation – a dull grayness, not even bright red anger. Just blahiness.

Depths of the Doldrums

I hate this. I am anxious, lonely, out of sorts, and feel a general malaise. It is no fun and I want it to stop. Be grateful that I'm not spewing forth all my whininess.

A post is brewing. And it's one that is not just self-absorbed and pouty.

Consider Yourself Lucky

You may think that I have been so busy living a life of debauchery that I have had no time to post. That I'm living in a whirlwind of multi-colored confetti-like fun, dates here and parties there and the like.

Not so much.

Instead, I am likely officially the most boring person you know. So I'll spare you the minutia of what's going on in my life, except to say this: There is nothing that involves a date or dating going on in my life or anything anywhere near that realm.

Should something change, you'll be the first to know.

Ooooh, Yeah

I'm a Lamborghini Murcielago!

You're not subtle, but you don't want to be. Fast, loud, and dramatic, you want people to notice you, and then get out of the way. In a world full of sheep, you're a raging bull.

Take the Which'>http://www.tomorrowland.us/sportscar">Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.

This Can't Be Good

Last night I dreamed that I actually met a guy! And that he was a better writer than I am.

We were at some seminar about writing and I kept talking to him while he was apparently trying to actually listen to the speaker and he shushed me.

Not sure what this may mean, but I'm thinking the short version is that I have issues.

I'll Meet You at Picasso's

I started this post a couple of weeks ago, visiting my Brother the Prince and his family. I was sitting on the floor in the children’s section of a Books-a-Million, while dear son played with a train or somesuch. I jotted that I was blogging the “old-fashioned way.” Aren’t I funny.

Before visiting the bookstore, my brother, sister in law, dear son, and I had lunch at this cool restaurant called Picasso’s (one day, dear readers, I’ll learn how to hyperlink. Until then … www.picassopizzeria.com). They served wood-fired pizzas and scrumpdillyicious breadsticks with several yummy dipping sauces.

And ya’ll. The waiter? He was totally checking me out. He was cute, too, in that brooding/suffering artist kind of way, you know? (Do you ever do this, make up a complete story for someone you happen to see randomly, like while you’re people-watching? I do that all the time. I give them irritating brothers in law and neighbors who they envy and an irrational fear or two and a food allergy. I decorate their homes and figure out what they drive. It’s great fun.) For this guy, I imagined that he was a tortured creative sort who probably sculpted in the evenings. He waited tables to keep him in clay and whatnot. On breaks he smoked French cigarettes and read literary magazines.

Our now erudite (to me, anyway) waiter made eye contact several times and when he brought the check, he glanced at me again, saying that he hoped to see us in there again soon.

Okay, big woo, right? Except it reminded me that this is how strangers meet in the real world without benefit of a computer keyboard.

More to Come

I have not forgotten you. And I do have some blog-worthy topics which I hope to do tomorrow. Seriously.