By which I mean that I spent quite a bit of time with Hot Med over the weekend...more than I had intended to, actually. I was thinking we'd have one weekend evening date, but he came over both Friday and Saturday evenings, and we went out to eat, took a walk and hung out at his place (with his family, off and on) on Sunday afternoon. I was surprised by how good it was to see him Friday evening, after a week of NOT seeing him.
Maybe I judged too hastily and harshly. Or maybe I underestimated the appeal of someone who clearly and demonstrably adores me. Heh. New Guy, for all that I knew that he cared about me, was NOT into public displays of affection, particularly. We'd hold hands occasionally, and he'd give me a hug and a peck as a greeting, but he just wasn't a big "I need to put my arms around this woman right now" kind of guy, and Hot Med...seems to be. Not that he's mauling me in public, or anything, and I do still have some misgivings about the way he ratcheted up the hand-holding when we were around my male friends that time, but...I have no doubt that he likes me, and that's kind of nice. And, while New Guy would regularly tell me he found me beautiful, he didn't do it with nearly the frequency that Hot Med does. It's flattering, if nothing else!
I still have a hard time thinking of this as a truly long term prospect, but...we're kind of finding a groove, I guess. We're communicating a little better, starting to get each other's senses of humor a bit--there are still major communication barriers, of course, and I can't seem to get him motivated to get back into ESL classes (which he desperately needs to do), but I have figured out how to handle making plans over the phone without too much frustration. I call, state clearly when and where I intend to pick him up, wait for him to repeat it back to me, and then we hang up. So far it's worked out okay. Hee.
I have also found out that we are compatible politically. Here is his succinct summing up of the current and past U.S. administrations: "Bush--no good. Stupid, crazy, make many dead. Obama--good! Change, make more clinics." The "make many dead" was accompanied by shooting sounds--clearly a referendum on the war. And I am assuming that "make more clinics" is limited English for "affordable healthcare for all." Heh.
So...it is what it is, and I'm enjoying it for now. I fully realize that there may come a time when I can't put my need for intellectual stimulation on the back burner any longer, but I'm trying not to focus on that. And, besides...maybe I've spent too much time looking for big brains, when I should have been looking for big hearts, eh? Something to think about, at least.
I have a very busy week of rehearsals and performances, so I won't see him again for a few days. We'll see how happy I am to see him when I do.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Pros and Cons
I'm sure you're all wondering how it went with Hot Med last weekend, so I'll tell you.
I actually ended up seeing him both Saturday and Sunday nights, so clearly it wasn't too painful, right? Hee.
Saturday night he made me spaghetti at his house, then we watched TV and became frustrated at the lack of privacy at his place. His sister and nephew were there--they're lovely people, but the apartment is really just too small for them all, plus they go to bed really early, in the living room, and then it just gets kind of awkward. So I didn't stay too late. Which made Hot Med sad, so I said I'd probably see him the next day.
Sunday afternoon I went to a birthday party, and then picked him up and brought him back to my place. We'd both already eaten, so there was no kitchen struggle. Heh. I made him watch the Amazing Race with me (which he seemed to enjoy--lots of action), and then...well...I did mention that I am physically attracted to him, right? (Which is sort of a welcome relief, after all the "nice guy no sparks" dates.) And he keeps telling me how beautiful I am? I'm only human, people!
So, anyway, it was a pleasant evening. I haven't seen him since, as I've been busy with lawn-mowing, Fridiron rehearsal, etc. Which I explained to him would be the case, and I think he understood. I'm assuming we'll probably get together tomorrow night or Saturday (or both), then I'm tied up with the show the next several days.
I'll admit that he seems to be growing on me in some ways...but I still really can't see this being a longterm thing. He doesn't seem particularly motivated to get back into ESL classes ("you teach me"--um, no), and I just don't think there will be the intellectual stimulation I will need as the new wears off, so to speak.
Here are the pros and cons, as I see them:
Pro:
So, I'm kind of being a guy, I guess. Heh. You know, continuing to see someone with whom I don't really see a future, because it's fun for the time being. No harm, no foul, right? I've been very clear with him that I am only interested in dating at this point--no "boyfriend," no "marry." (He did actually ask me my "intentions," so to speak...in the form of a multiple choice question, those being the three possible answers.) My conscience is really clear on that point...and yet I still feel a little bad. Damned liberal white guilt! Why can't I just enjoy myself and not feel like I'm leading him on? He's a grownup, I've been honest with him--if he wants to continue seeing me under these conditions, I have no reason to feel guilty, right? After all, I willingly kept seeing Mr. Short Term for a while, in a similar situation, and I bear him no ill will.
So, that's where it stands. I'm just planning to let it play out for a bit, and see how I feel as it goes.
What would YOU do?
I actually ended up seeing him both Saturday and Sunday nights, so clearly it wasn't too painful, right? Hee.
Saturday night he made me spaghetti at his house, then we watched TV and became frustrated at the lack of privacy at his place. His sister and nephew were there--they're lovely people, but the apartment is really just too small for them all, plus they go to bed really early, in the living room, and then it just gets kind of awkward. So I didn't stay too late. Which made Hot Med sad, so I said I'd probably see him the next day.
Sunday afternoon I went to a birthday party, and then picked him up and brought him back to my place. We'd both already eaten, so there was no kitchen struggle. Heh. I made him watch the Amazing Race with me (which he seemed to enjoy--lots of action), and then...well...I did mention that I am physically attracted to him, right? (Which is sort of a welcome relief, after all the "nice guy no sparks" dates.) And he keeps telling me how beautiful I am? I'm only human, people!
So, anyway, it was a pleasant evening. I haven't seen him since, as I've been busy with lawn-mowing, Fridiron rehearsal, etc. Which I explained to him would be the case, and I think he understood. I'm assuming we'll probably get together tomorrow night or Saturday (or both), then I'm tied up with the show the next several days.
I'll admit that he seems to be growing on me in some ways...but I still really can't see this being a longterm thing. He doesn't seem particularly motivated to get back into ESL classes ("you teach me"--um, no), and I just don't think there will be the intellectual stimulation I will need as the new wears off, so to speak.
Here are the pros and cons, as I see them:
Pro:
- he thinks I'm beautiful
- he tells me so repeatedly
- he is gentlemanly
- he likes to cook for me
- I find him attractive
- he has a nice family
Con:
- we can't carry on a conversation
- he's not particularly intellectually curious, it seems
- he doesn't drive, has no car, and doesn't live particularly close to me
- he can be a bit controlling
- he had the nerve to suggest I go to the gym with him--while his hand was resting on my belly (he's lucky he didn't pull back a bloody stump--to his credit, he did immediately apologize and tell me again how beautiful I am)
So, I'm kind of being a guy, I guess. Heh. You know, continuing to see someone with whom I don't really see a future, because it's fun for the time being. No harm, no foul, right? I've been very clear with him that I am only interested in dating at this point--no "boyfriend," no "marry." (He did actually ask me my "intentions," so to speak...in the form of a multiple choice question, those being the three possible answers.) My conscience is really clear on that point...and yet I still feel a little bad. Damned liberal white guilt! Why can't I just enjoy myself and not feel like I'm leading him on? He's a grownup, I've been honest with him--if he wants to continue seeing me under these conditions, I have no reason to feel guilty, right? After all, I willingly kept seeing Mr. Short Term for a while, in a similar situation, and I bear him no ill will.
So, that's where it stands. I'm just planning to let it play out for a bit, and see how I feel as it goes.
What would YOU do?
Friday, April 17, 2009
My so-called life
Okay, I'll catch you up.
When last we knew, our heroine was getting ready to go out on another date with Hot Mediterranean. What happens next?!
Hee.
The date was fine, actually. He made tabouli again. It was delicious. I enjoy watching him squeeze lemons. (That's not nearly so dirty as it might sound.) We watched TV a bit, and then his sister and nephew were dropped off (after a trip to the gym) by his brother. I like his brother. (Why can't HE be single? Heh.) We talked about theatre and art for a bit. He asked me if I knew anyone who might be willing to tutor Hot Med in ESL, as the only class they'd been able to find wasn't a good fit, geographically and logistically. (I happen to know an ESL teacher, so that info has since been forwarded to Hot Med.) Hot Bro started to say that Hot Med hadn't had the educational opportunities he and the other siblings had...then he laughed and corrected himself. "The truth is, we couldn't get him off the beach. All he ever wanted to do was hang out at the beach, swim, fish, work out and chase women." Well...that explains a lot. Heh. I suppose if I had grown up on the Mediterranean, close to Greece, with those beautiful, beautiful waters...I might have been a beach bum, too. (Okay, probably not...but I understand the appeal.)
I didn't stay too late, but promised to get in touch later in the week to plan another evening.
I still don't know that I see this going anywhere...but he does have a certain charm, and it is quite nice to be told how beautiful you are...constantly. And I think he means it, too...I don't think he's just trying to get into my pants. Not that he's NOT trying to get into my pants, of course. He's a guy. But he's a guy who very much wants a steady girlfriend/possible fiancee/wife prospect, and, since I don't want to lead him on in any way, I'm kind of keeping him at arm's length in the...gettin' busy department. He seems okay with that for now...
Okay...I had a half-day coming to me at work, and decided to take it Thursday. So I emailed Hot Med to see if he wanted to go to dinner that night. I didn't hear back via email, so I finally called yesterday afternoon to see where we stood, and he apparently thought the date was already a done deal, and was expecting me to be at his place that evening. (This communication difficulty frustrates the heck out of me, I don't mind saying.) Alrighty then.
We had some salad at his place, took a walk along the river, sat on a bench for a while and talked...okay, HE talked. I figured he needed the practice, so I just let him go. He told me he never wants to live in Lebanon again, that he didn't like New Mexico (where he lived when he first came to the U.S.) because there's not enough water (I can dig it), that he had a girlfriend there who cried when he left, but that he didn't like her as much as he likes ME...it went on for a while. He would like to visit his sister in Germany and his brother in London. Apparently, only his mother still lives in Lebanon. (I've started correcting his pronoun usage now, by the way, when he makes mistakes. He confuses he/she a lot. Let's get a jump on that ESL.) At one point his phone rang, he had a short conversation in English, and when he hung up he told me it was from a "crazy girl" he works with, who wants to go out with him. She's too young for his taste, though. 27. He likes 'em older. (Clearly.)
We left the river and went to my favorite restaurant (which happens to be just down the street from his apartment), home of the world-famous "crack" noodles, and I made him try some Asian food, with which he seemed completely unfamiliar. He really like the fresh spring rolls, though--"Beautiful!"
Then I suggested that we stop in at a bar on the way back to his place, as some friends of mine were playing there that night, and I was curious to see what he'd think of "my" kind of music.
Here's where the red flags of the evening were displayed. He greeted everyone warmly, but didn't seem to care for me greeting my male friends as warmly, and kept asking if any of them were my "boyfriends. or "ex-boyfriends." Answer? No. Though, in all honesty, if...well, if Mr. "If He Were to Ever Actually Leave His Completely Mismatched Wife Who's Been Making Him Miserable for Years" were to ever actually leave his wife...I'd probably be first in line to help him pick up the pieces. Heh. But, Hot Med doesn't know that, and the point is, I can't handle someone who can't handle the fact that I have friends who happen to be guys, as I happen to have a lot of them. He did stop asking the questions, but then started making a concerted effort to hold my hands and gaze into my eyes a bit more...obviously. Gah. Spare me the macho posturing, please.
He nursed a beer (he doesn't drink much), and I had a couple, and then...remember the soup ladle incident? Well, he kind of went to that controlling place again. As I finished my second beer, he grabbed the bottle from me and said "no more, you're driving." EXCUSE ME? That is not for you to decide, Mister! I tried to make myself take Sauntering Soul's advice to heart and believe that it was coming from a place of caring and concern, but...I couldn't quite get there. It's quite all right for him to express concern, but to literally take the bottle from my hand and say "no more?" I'm a grownup, and that's out of line. Which I told him. (And, by the way, two beers? Barely even tips the "buzz" scale for me. I'm a big girl; I can handle a few beers.)
At this point, he was yawning, and since I could tell he wasn't really enjoying the music (it's very lyrics-driven, and I don't think he was getting it at all), and I knew he had to be up very early, I suggested that I go ahead and take him home. Of course, I had every intention of returning and listening to more music, drinking more beer AND eliciting some follow-up details to "Mr. If He Were, Etc.'s" answer of "oh, you don't even want to know" in response to my "I haven't seen you in a while; how's it going" question from earlier in the evening. (Maybe he's left his wife!) I told Hot Med I planned to come back and listen to more music, and while he clearly wasn't crazy about that, he was fairly gracious about it. "Okay, no problem, but please be careful, baby." I told "Mr. If He Were to Ever" to save me a seat, as I would be right back, and deposited Hot Med down the street at his house, with a promise to call soon about the weekend.
So, then I went back to the bar, sat down to "Mr. If He...", oh heck...let's just call him Lyle. (That's not his name, but I just glanced at the poster of Lyle Lovett above my desk, so...Lyle it is.) Anyway, I sat down, and ordered another beer, saying, jokingly, as I lifted it to my lips, "I hope YOU'RE not going to forbid me to drink and drive." [Edited to take out details about Lyle, just in case anyone who knows him reads this. Doubtful, but possible, I suppose.] (He has NOT left his wife.)
Anyway, I spent the rest of the evening drinking beer (yes, I drank more, thankyouverymuch, and was just fine to drive), listening to good music and enjoying an extended conversation with Lyle, with whom I've always felt an intellectual connection.
And being frustrated. Why, oh WHY, can't I find a guy who is: a) available and ready for a relationship, b) crazy attracted to me, AND c) smart, funny and "gets" me?
So, that's where things stand. Hot Med's going to make me spaghetti this weekend, and...we'll see how things go.
When last we knew, our heroine was getting ready to go out on another date with Hot Mediterranean. What happens next?!
Hee.
The date was fine, actually. He made tabouli again. It was delicious. I enjoy watching him squeeze lemons. (That's not nearly so dirty as it might sound.) We watched TV a bit, and then his sister and nephew were dropped off (after a trip to the gym) by his brother. I like his brother. (Why can't HE be single? Heh.) We talked about theatre and art for a bit. He asked me if I knew anyone who might be willing to tutor Hot Med in ESL, as the only class they'd been able to find wasn't a good fit, geographically and logistically. (I happen to know an ESL teacher, so that info has since been forwarded to Hot Med.) Hot Bro started to say that Hot Med hadn't had the educational opportunities he and the other siblings had...then he laughed and corrected himself. "The truth is, we couldn't get him off the beach. All he ever wanted to do was hang out at the beach, swim, fish, work out and chase women." Well...that explains a lot. Heh. I suppose if I had grown up on the Mediterranean, close to Greece, with those beautiful, beautiful waters...I might have been a beach bum, too. (Okay, probably not...but I understand the appeal.)
I didn't stay too late, but promised to get in touch later in the week to plan another evening.
I still don't know that I see this going anywhere...but he does have a certain charm, and it is quite nice to be told how beautiful you are...constantly. And I think he means it, too...I don't think he's just trying to get into my pants. Not that he's NOT trying to get into my pants, of course. He's a guy. But he's a guy who very much wants a steady girlfriend/possible fiancee/wife prospect, and, since I don't want to lead him on in any way, I'm kind of keeping him at arm's length in the...gettin' busy department. He seems okay with that for now...
Okay...I had a half-day coming to me at work, and decided to take it Thursday. So I emailed Hot Med to see if he wanted to go to dinner that night. I didn't hear back via email, so I finally called yesterday afternoon to see where we stood, and he apparently thought the date was already a done deal, and was expecting me to be at his place that evening. (This communication difficulty frustrates the heck out of me, I don't mind saying.) Alrighty then.
We had some salad at his place, took a walk along the river, sat on a bench for a while and talked...okay, HE talked. I figured he needed the practice, so I just let him go. He told me he never wants to live in Lebanon again, that he didn't like New Mexico (where he lived when he first came to the U.S.) because there's not enough water (I can dig it), that he had a girlfriend there who cried when he left, but that he didn't like her as much as he likes ME...it went on for a while. He would like to visit his sister in Germany and his brother in London. Apparently, only his mother still lives in Lebanon. (I've started correcting his pronoun usage now, by the way, when he makes mistakes. He confuses he/she a lot. Let's get a jump on that ESL.) At one point his phone rang, he had a short conversation in English, and when he hung up he told me it was from a "crazy girl" he works with, who wants to go out with him. She's too young for his taste, though. 27. He likes 'em older. (Clearly.)
We left the river and went to my favorite restaurant (which happens to be just down the street from his apartment), home of the world-famous "crack" noodles, and I made him try some Asian food, with which he seemed completely unfamiliar. He really like the fresh spring rolls, though--"Beautiful!"
Then I suggested that we stop in at a bar on the way back to his place, as some friends of mine were playing there that night, and I was curious to see what he'd think of "my" kind of music.
Here's where the red flags of the evening were displayed. He greeted everyone warmly, but didn't seem to care for me greeting my male friends as warmly, and kept asking if any of them were my "boyfriends. or "ex-boyfriends." Answer? No. Though, in all honesty, if...well, if Mr. "If He Were to Ever Actually Leave His Completely Mismatched Wife Who's Been Making Him Miserable for Years" were to ever actually leave his wife...I'd probably be first in line to help him pick up the pieces. Heh. But, Hot Med doesn't know that, and the point is, I can't handle someone who can't handle the fact that I have friends who happen to be guys, as I happen to have a lot of them. He did stop asking the questions, but then started making a concerted effort to hold my hands and gaze into my eyes a bit more...obviously. Gah. Spare me the macho posturing, please.
He nursed a beer (he doesn't drink much), and I had a couple, and then...remember the soup ladle incident? Well, he kind of went to that controlling place again. As I finished my second beer, he grabbed the bottle from me and said "no more, you're driving." EXCUSE ME? That is not for you to decide, Mister! I tried to make myself take Sauntering Soul's advice to heart and believe that it was coming from a place of caring and concern, but...I couldn't quite get there. It's quite all right for him to express concern, but to literally take the bottle from my hand and say "no more?" I'm a grownup, and that's out of line. Which I told him. (And, by the way, two beers? Barely even tips the "buzz" scale for me. I'm a big girl; I can handle a few beers.)
At this point, he was yawning, and since I could tell he wasn't really enjoying the music (it's very lyrics-driven, and I don't think he was getting it at all), and I knew he had to be up very early, I suggested that I go ahead and take him home. Of course, I had every intention of returning and listening to more music, drinking more beer AND eliciting some follow-up details to "Mr. If He Were, Etc.'s" answer of "oh, you don't even want to know" in response to my "I haven't seen you in a while; how's it going" question from earlier in the evening. (Maybe he's left his wife!) I told Hot Med I planned to come back and listen to more music, and while he clearly wasn't crazy about that, he was fairly gracious about it. "Okay, no problem, but please be careful, baby." I told "Mr. If He Were to Ever" to save me a seat, as I would be right back, and deposited Hot Med down the street at his house, with a promise to call soon about the weekend.
So, then I went back to the bar, sat down to "Mr. If He...", oh heck...let's just call him Lyle. (That's not his name, but I just glanced at the poster of Lyle Lovett above my desk, so...Lyle it is.) Anyway, I sat down, and ordered another beer, saying, jokingly, as I lifted it to my lips, "I hope YOU'RE not going to forbid me to drink and drive." [Edited to take out details about Lyle, just in case anyone who knows him reads this. Doubtful, but possible, I suppose.] (He has NOT left his wife.)
Anyway, I spent the rest of the evening drinking beer (yes, I drank more, thankyouverymuch, and was just fine to drive), listening to good music and enjoying an extended conversation with Lyle, with whom I've always felt an intellectual connection.
And being frustrated. Why, oh WHY, can't I find a guy who is: a) available and ready for a relationship, b) crazy attracted to me, AND c) smart, funny and "gets" me?
So, that's where things stand. Hot Med's going to make me spaghetti this weekend, and...we'll see how things go.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Weekend update
But first...enormous hugs, thoughts, prayers for healing to gorillabuns and her family. I can't even begin to imagine the pain she's feeling right now. Please send your own thoughts and prayers her way, as well.
And now, a quick rundown of my weekend:
Friday afternoon, I did manage to meet Mr. Not Quite Divorced for lunch, despite my boss having a panic attack/meltdown which required me to give up much of what should have been an entire afternoon off to help him sort things out.
And how was it? Well, it was fine. I know...you were hoping for fireworks. Me, too. But what I got was an enjoyable lunch with a nice guy. Physically, no overwhelming sparks. But no "never in a million years" reaction, either. He greeted me with a somewhat awkward handshake (keep in mind that this guy married the first girl he went out with, 20 years ago, so he has no recent actual dating experience). He is really pretty much as he described himself--nerdy and near-sighted. Hee. We ate, we chatted, we had to cut it kind of short because a) the restaurant was closing, and b) I had to get back to my frantic boss. We did stand in the parking lot chatting for a bit. No hug at that point, either, though I suppose I could have initiated one, and we left on a "we'll have to do this again sometime" note. And...that's it. We're back to our regularly scheduled emailing, and I have no idea if he has any aspirations to anything more.
Friday night, church.
Saturday morning, house cleaning.
Saturday afternoon, cat lady lunch, followed by a stop at a local herb festival, where I bought four, count 'em, four different kinds of basil plants. And some tomatoes. I got the basil into planters--the poor tomatoes are still waiting.
Saturday evening, Mensa meeting, with an interesting presentation this month by a woman who worked for JPL for 30 years, and was project manager for the first Mars rover landing. She insisted that the rover have the name of a female hero--hence, "Sojourner Truth." Looking at her, I would never have guessed that she was responsible for anything so exciting...she looked more like a retired gym teacher, in khaki pants and a sweatshirt. Heh.
Sunday morning, two, count 'em...two church services. I sang with the praise band led by a friend of mine at an early morning service, then went to my own church for the regular service, then went home and and snuggled on the couch under a blanket for the rest of the rainy, cold afternoon.
At some point in the weekend, I returned one of Hot Med's several calls. (He never leaves a voice mail, so I don't feel that bad about not returning the calls more promptly.) He wanted me to come over for dinner on Sunday, but I was too tired. I did agree to go to his place for dinner tonight. I believe we're having tabouli again. He offered to make something different, but I couldn't trust that he's really grasped the vegetarian thing, so I thought tabouli was a safer choice.
So, am I looking forward to seeing him? Well, yeah....to some extent. It's hard not to like being told repeatedly how beautiful you are. Heh. And I can watch his arms as he chops the tabouli vegetables. Double heh. But then we'll run out of things to say, and he'll be content to sit there holding my hand, but I won't, and...I think I need to make a decision fairly soon regarding continuing the "relationship" or not. I don't want to hurt his feelings, but I don't want to lead him on, and I don't want him making any assumptions about where this might be leading.
In other news, I logged in at "flentyofpish" today, for the first time in quite a while, to check out some guy who had "favorited" me (and he looks kind of cool--I favorited him back, though neither of us sent an actual message), and mere moments later I had a message from Insane Guy. "I've missed you." Yowza. I did not respond.
No real contact from Mr. Short Term, by the way...except for email forwards and facebook interactions. I'm sure if I actually gave in and called him, he'd be happy to see me. Not gonna do it, though. "Nuh guh duh," in the words of Dana Carvey's President Bush. Hee.
And now, a quick rundown of my weekend:
Friday afternoon, I did manage to meet Mr. Not Quite Divorced for lunch, despite my boss having a panic attack/meltdown which required me to give up much of what should have been an entire afternoon off to help him sort things out.
And how was it? Well, it was fine. I know...you were hoping for fireworks. Me, too. But what I got was an enjoyable lunch with a nice guy. Physically, no overwhelming sparks. But no "never in a million years" reaction, either. He greeted me with a somewhat awkward handshake (keep in mind that this guy married the first girl he went out with, 20 years ago, so he has no recent actual dating experience). He is really pretty much as he described himself--nerdy and near-sighted. Hee. We ate, we chatted, we had to cut it kind of short because a) the restaurant was closing, and b) I had to get back to my frantic boss. We did stand in the parking lot chatting for a bit. No hug at that point, either, though I suppose I could have initiated one, and we left on a "we'll have to do this again sometime" note. And...that's it. We're back to our regularly scheduled emailing, and I have no idea if he has any aspirations to anything more.
Friday night, church.
Saturday morning, house cleaning.
Saturday afternoon, cat lady lunch, followed by a stop at a local herb festival, where I bought four, count 'em, four different kinds of basil plants. And some tomatoes. I got the basil into planters--the poor tomatoes are still waiting.
Saturday evening, Mensa meeting, with an interesting presentation this month by a woman who worked for JPL for 30 years, and was project manager for the first Mars rover landing. She insisted that the rover have the name of a female hero--hence, "Sojourner Truth." Looking at her, I would never have guessed that she was responsible for anything so exciting...she looked more like a retired gym teacher, in khaki pants and a sweatshirt. Heh.
Sunday morning, two, count 'em...two church services. I sang with the praise band led by a friend of mine at an early morning service, then went to my own church for the regular service, then went home and and snuggled on the couch under a blanket for the rest of the rainy, cold afternoon.
At some point in the weekend, I returned one of Hot Med's several calls. (He never leaves a voice mail, so I don't feel that bad about not returning the calls more promptly.) He wanted me to come over for dinner on Sunday, but I was too tired. I did agree to go to his place for dinner tonight. I believe we're having tabouli again. He offered to make something different, but I couldn't trust that he's really grasped the vegetarian thing, so I thought tabouli was a safer choice.
So, am I looking forward to seeing him? Well, yeah....to some extent. It's hard not to like being told repeatedly how beautiful you are. Heh. And I can watch his arms as he chops the tabouli vegetables. Double heh. But then we'll run out of things to say, and he'll be content to sit there holding my hand, but I won't, and...I think I need to make a decision fairly soon regarding continuing the "relationship" or not. I don't want to hurt his feelings, but I don't want to lead him on, and I don't want him making any assumptions about where this might be leading.
In other news, I logged in at "flentyofpish" today, for the first time in quite a while, to check out some guy who had "favorited" me (and he looks kind of cool--I favorited him back, though neither of us sent an actual message), and mere moments later I had a message from Insane Guy. "I've missed you." Yowza. I did not respond.
No real contact from Mr. Short Term, by the way...except for email forwards and facebook interactions. I'm sure if I actually gave in and called him, he'd be happy to see me. Not gonna do it, though. "Nuh guh duh," in the words of Dana Carvey's President Bush. Hee.
Thursday, April 09, 2009
No news is...no news.
Nothing interesting to report here.
I haven't seen or talked to Hot Med this week--I wasn't kidding when I told him I wouldn't have time to see him this week. He hasn't attempted to contact me. I'm hoping that means he actually understood what I was attempting to convey. Heh. I'm still undecided about continuing to see him. I haven't really thought about him much this week--that's probably not a good sign. We'll see, I guess.
My lunch date with the pen pal is tomorrow. I'm very much looking forward to it--but I'm not really nervous about it. I guess we've communicated at enough length at this point that I'm pretty sure we'll get along fine. Whether there is any chemistry beyond friendship is anybody's guess, but I suppose we'll find that out tomorrow.
Other than that, it's a rehearsal and churchgoing kind of week. A busy weekend coming up, too...aside from Easter, it's Cat Lady Lunch Day and the monthly Mensa meeting. And at some point I've got to mow my lawn. Spring has sprung to that extent, at least.
I'll let you know how lunch goes. Ironically, we're meeting for Lebanese food. Hee.
I haven't seen or talked to Hot Med this week--I wasn't kidding when I told him I wouldn't have time to see him this week. He hasn't attempted to contact me. I'm hoping that means he actually understood what I was attempting to convey. Heh. I'm still undecided about continuing to see him. I haven't really thought about him much this week--that's probably not a good sign. We'll see, I guess.
My lunch date with the pen pal is tomorrow. I'm very much looking forward to it--but I'm not really nervous about it. I guess we've communicated at enough length at this point that I'm pretty sure we'll get along fine. Whether there is any chemistry beyond friendship is anybody's guess, but I suppose we'll find that out tomorrow.
Other than that, it's a rehearsal and churchgoing kind of week. A busy weekend coming up, too...aside from Easter, it's Cat Lady Lunch Day and the monthly Mensa meeting. And at some point I've got to mow my lawn. Spring has sprung to that extent, at least.
I'll let you know how lunch goes. Ironically, we're meeting for Lebanese food. Hee.
Monday, April 06, 2009
"Put down the ladle and back away from the sink."
My goodness, I don't even know where to start.
I did not meet the McCain Supporter for drinks on Friday night. I was way tired after a trip to the grocery and liquor stores, and just wanted to crash on the couch.
I got a couple of calls from Hot Med while running those errands, which I waited to return until I was home. "Where are you?" Dude, you said SATURDAY. Today is FRIDAY. "So you not come tonight?" No, I'm not coming tonight. I will be there tomorrow, okay? "Okay, no problem."
So, I did have the tabouli date on Saturday night, and reciprocated by making soup for him at my place on Sunday. So...how did it all go?
Let's talk good things first, I think.
He was wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt, and I have to say...man's got some nice arms. And shoulders. Later in the weekend he pulled his shirt up (we were talking about his body-building) to show me the "8 beers in his belly" (thanks, Sauntering Soul's Hot Brazilian--I love that) and...yeah, the guy's in good shape.
He makes a mean tabouli. I had never had it as the main dish, nor had I eaten it scooped into lettuce leaves instead of using utensils. I would recommend both, though. He's perhaps an even bigger OCD freak about the kitchen than I am. He washed the cutting board between every vegetable and was constantly wiping and cleaning and washing his hands. (Well, he does work in a restaurant--I suppose that's good policy.)
He's very chivalrous--always insisting on opening doors and helping me out of the car, etc. He asked permission before taking my hand on our walk in the Riverparks, and before giving me a short neck massage at my house. Now, I suppose the jury is out on whether that is his natural tendency, or if he's been given a smackdown for being too presumptuous in the past, but still...he was polite.
He gets a big smile on his face every time he looks at me. It's hard not to like that. He tells me repeatedly how beautiful I am. Ditto on that.
He was pretty good about letting my cats (those that deigned to be visible, of course) sit on his lap while we watched TV.
Okay, it's all sounding good, you're thinking. Well...it wasn't ALL good. Let's have a little lesson in how NOT to court me, 'mkay?
Lesson #1: Do NOT under any circumstance mention marriage to me on the second date. I will not think, "wow--this guy really likes me!" I will think, "wow, this guy really wants a wife." Big difference. Particularly do not mention that you would like to take this wife-to-be to Lebanon to meet your mother in the near future. That is way too much too soon. Even after my week-long first date with New Guy, I think I would have been a little freaked out by that. (Or not. Damn you, New Guy! Sigh.) I told him I was not interested in marriage to ANYONE any time soon, and he didn't mention it outright again.
Now, I think it was coincidental that his brother and sister-in-law were at his house when I arrived to pick him up Sunday evening to take him to my house for soup. I think they were there to visit his sister and nephew. (They had brought a basket of hand-decorated Easter eggs.) I hope that is the case, at any rate. 'Cause it was just a bit of an inquisition, and I would hate to think that was set up deliberately. Now, don't get me wrong--they were lovely people. His brother is a contractor, speaks perfect English, his sister-in-law is American, and we all had a lovely chat about theatre, dance, etc. But I would not like to think that I was being deliberately screened for suitability on a third date. Heh. (They were very enthusiastic about coming to see me in a show...which is nice, but leads me to believe they have premature assumptions about where this relationship is going.)
Lesson #2: You will not curry favor with me if you repeatedly suggest that I put my dog outside. Now, I am the first to admit that Pudge is a very large, very clingy, sometimes anxious dog. He bounced from the animal shelter through a couple of foster homes before he ended up with me, and he is...well, needy. He's used to having me to himself, and it takes him a few minutes to get used to the presence of a stranger in the house. He's not aggressive at all, mind you...he mostly sits near me anxiously and keeps his eye on the "intruder" for a while. There will, of course, be some sniffing of the shoes, tail-wagging, etc.--he's a DOG. But if you speak nicely to him, and then sit quietly for a bit, he will relax fairly quickly. The very worst thing to do would be to put him outside by himself. So, if you continue to suggest that I put him outside, you are liable to be shut down with a curt "it's his house, too." Pudge did calm down, and I did put him in the bedroom for a while as we actually ate (see, I can compromise), but...dude. Ask once, then let it go.
Lesson #3: Okay, it's a relatively well-known fact that I am a bit...anal and OCDish about my kitchen. But only MY kitchen. I have no compulsion to wash dishes at anyone else's house. I get a little thrill, actually, when I leave a dirty plate or glass in or near a sink and walk away. It's like a tiny vacation from the compulsion. Heh. Apparently, however, HIS compulsion knows no such bounds. He kept trying to "help." Okay...I'm happy that he knows his way around a kitchen, but this is MY kitchen, and it's TINY; there's barely room for me, and you are IN MY WAY. Please go sit down! He wouldn't, though. It's all very well and good to offer to help when you are a guest in someone's home, but if they decline your offer, take them at your word and leave them alone, for cryin' out loud. I do not need someone taking a soup ladle out of my hand and attempting to wash it. He's lucky that soup ladle was not wielded as a weapon, is what I'm saying.
Tangentially, I also do not need to be told repeatedly that the soup is hot, and to be careful. I KNOW THE SOUP IS HOT. I JUST TOOK IT OFF THE STOVE. I AM 46 YEARS OLD AND I HAVE EATEN HOT SOUP BEFORE. I get tired of that constant admonition even in restaurants, where they're presumably worried about liability--I do not need or want it in my home. Thankyouverymuch.
I told him, and I think he understood, that I am very busy this week, and I won't be able to see him at all. (Rehearsals, Holy Week church services, etc.) We'll see, I suppose.
So...some issues, clearly, in addition to the ongoing communication difficulties. Here's the thing. I'm a very verbal person. Not a chatterbox, by any means, but...I like words. I'm a word nerd. And being a word nerd without access to so many of my words--well, it feels kind of stifling. And I can't be funny without words! Who am I if I'm not funny? (Okay, admittedly, maybe this says more about me than about him.) And I have no problem with the occasional companionable silence...it's nice. But there is a difference between "companionable" silence and awkward "I'm out of things to say" silence, isn't there?
He keeps telling me how much he likes me. He likes my eyes, my hair, my face. I know guys are very visually-stimulated, but...that's not really enough for me. He asks what I like about him, and I don't know what to say. I don't really know you well enough yet to know, I reply. And you don't really know me yet. I don't think that's the answer HE wants, either.
So...I don't know. I haven't made any decisions, one way or the other, but I'm not sure I have the energy for this, frankly.
In the meantime, I am very much looking forward to meeting my "pen-pal" in person. We have exchanged close to 300 emails in the last two months. Clearly, we're both very wordy people. Heh. I know, I know--being almost divorced isn't being divorced. I have no expectations--just a strong curiosity to see if the image I have in my head matches the real him at all.
I did not meet the McCain Supporter for drinks on Friday night. I was way tired after a trip to the grocery and liquor stores, and just wanted to crash on the couch.
I got a couple of calls from Hot Med while running those errands, which I waited to return until I was home. "Where are you?" Dude, you said SATURDAY. Today is FRIDAY. "So you not come tonight?" No, I'm not coming tonight. I will be there tomorrow, okay? "Okay, no problem."
So, I did have the tabouli date on Saturday night, and reciprocated by making soup for him at my place on Sunday. So...how did it all go?
Let's talk good things first, I think.
He was wearing a short-sleeved t-shirt, and I have to say...man's got some nice arms. And shoulders. Later in the weekend he pulled his shirt up (we were talking about his body-building) to show me the "8 beers in his belly" (thanks, Sauntering Soul's Hot Brazilian--I love that) and...yeah, the guy's in good shape.
He makes a mean tabouli. I had never had it as the main dish, nor had I eaten it scooped into lettuce leaves instead of using utensils. I would recommend both, though. He's perhaps an even bigger OCD freak about the kitchen than I am. He washed the cutting board between every vegetable and was constantly wiping and cleaning and washing his hands. (Well, he does work in a restaurant--I suppose that's good policy.)
He's very chivalrous--always insisting on opening doors and helping me out of the car, etc. He asked permission before taking my hand on our walk in the Riverparks, and before giving me a short neck massage at my house. Now, I suppose the jury is out on whether that is his natural tendency, or if he's been given a smackdown for being too presumptuous in the past, but still...he was polite.
He gets a big smile on his face every time he looks at me. It's hard not to like that. He tells me repeatedly how beautiful I am. Ditto on that.
He was pretty good about letting my cats (those that deigned to be visible, of course) sit on his lap while we watched TV.
Okay, it's all sounding good, you're thinking. Well...it wasn't ALL good. Let's have a little lesson in how NOT to court me, 'mkay?
Lesson #1: Do NOT under any circumstance mention marriage to me on the second date. I will not think, "wow--this guy really likes me!" I will think, "wow, this guy really wants a wife." Big difference. Particularly do not mention that you would like to take this wife-to-be to Lebanon to meet your mother in the near future. That is way too much too soon. Even after my week-long first date with New Guy, I think I would have been a little freaked out by that. (Or not. Damn you, New Guy! Sigh.) I told him I was not interested in marriage to ANYONE any time soon, and he didn't mention it outright again.
Now, I think it was coincidental that his brother and sister-in-law were at his house when I arrived to pick him up Sunday evening to take him to my house for soup. I think they were there to visit his sister and nephew. (They had brought a basket of hand-decorated Easter eggs.) I hope that is the case, at any rate. 'Cause it was just a bit of an inquisition, and I would hate to think that was set up deliberately. Now, don't get me wrong--they were lovely people. His brother is a contractor, speaks perfect English, his sister-in-law is American, and we all had a lovely chat about theatre, dance, etc. But I would not like to think that I was being deliberately screened for suitability on a third date. Heh. (They were very enthusiastic about coming to see me in a show...which is nice, but leads me to believe they have premature assumptions about where this relationship is going.)
Lesson #2: You will not curry favor with me if you repeatedly suggest that I put my dog outside. Now, I am the first to admit that Pudge is a very large, very clingy, sometimes anxious dog. He bounced from the animal shelter through a couple of foster homes before he ended up with me, and he is...well, needy. He's used to having me to himself, and it takes him a few minutes to get used to the presence of a stranger in the house. He's not aggressive at all, mind you...he mostly sits near me anxiously and keeps his eye on the "intruder" for a while. There will, of course, be some sniffing of the shoes, tail-wagging, etc.--he's a DOG. But if you speak nicely to him, and then sit quietly for a bit, he will relax fairly quickly. The very worst thing to do would be to put him outside by himself. So, if you continue to suggest that I put him outside, you are liable to be shut down with a curt "it's his house, too." Pudge did calm down, and I did put him in the bedroom for a while as we actually ate (see, I can compromise), but...dude. Ask once, then let it go.
Lesson #3: Okay, it's a relatively well-known fact that I am a bit...anal and OCDish about my kitchen. But only MY kitchen. I have no compulsion to wash dishes at anyone else's house. I get a little thrill, actually, when I leave a dirty plate or glass in or near a sink and walk away. It's like a tiny vacation from the compulsion. Heh. Apparently, however, HIS compulsion knows no such bounds. He kept trying to "help." Okay...I'm happy that he knows his way around a kitchen, but this is MY kitchen, and it's TINY; there's barely room for me, and you are IN MY WAY. Please go sit down! He wouldn't, though. It's all very well and good to offer to help when you are a guest in someone's home, but if they decline your offer, take them at your word and leave them alone, for cryin' out loud. I do not need someone taking a soup ladle out of my hand and attempting to wash it. He's lucky that soup ladle was not wielded as a weapon, is what I'm saying.
Tangentially, I also do not need to be told repeatedly that the soup is hot, and to be careful. I KNOW THE SOUP IS HOT. I JUST TOOK IT OFF THE STOVE. I AM 46 YEARS OLD AND I HAVE EATEN HOT SOUP BEFORE. I get tired of that constant admonition even in restaurants, where they're presumably worried about liability--I do not need or want it in my home. Thankyouverymuch.
I told him, and I think he understood, that I am very busy this week, and I won't be able to see him at all. (Rehearsals, Holy Week church services, etc.) We'll see, I suppose.
So...some issues, clearly, in addition to the ongoing communication difficulties. Here's the thing. I'm a very verbal person. Not a chatterbox, by any means, but...I like words. I'm a word nerd. And being a word nerd without access to so many of my words--well, it feels kind of stifling. And I can't be funny without words! Who am I if I'm not funny? (Okay, admittedly, maybe this says more about me than about him.) And I have no problem with the occasional companionable silence...it's nice. But there is a difference between "companionable" silence and awkward "I'm out of things to say" silence, isn't there?
He keeps telling me how much he likes me. He likes my eyes, my hair, my face. I know guys are very visually-stimulated, but...that's not really enough for me. He asks what I like about him, and I don't know what to say. I don't really know you well enough yet to know, I reply. And you don't really know me yet. I don't think that's the answer HE wants, either.
So...I don't know. I haven't made any decisions, one way or the other, but I'm not sure I have the energy for this, frankly.
In the meantime, I am very much looking forward to meeting my "pen-pal" in person. We have exchanged close to 300 emails in the last two months. Clearly, we're both very wordy people. Heh. I know, I know--being almost divorced isn't being divorced. I have no expectations--just a strong curiosity to see if the image I have in my head matches the real him at all.
Friday, April 03, 2009
It never rains but it pours.
In addition to tomorrow night's tabouli-making date, I've had other offers.
The McCain Supporter--remember him? He's never really completely gone away, he pops up with an instant message now and again. He popped up this afternoon--we actually had a decent little chat, and he wants me to meet him for a glass of wine tonight. I told him I was probably going to be too tired after work. (I still think that, at this point.) Actually, he was fun to hang out with, and I think we both know there's no possibility of a real relationship, so maybe we could just be friends, but...I hesitate to walk that road again, even platonically. Still, though...nice to be so unforgettable to SOMEBODY.
AND...Mr. Not Quite Divorced, with whom I have up to half a dozen email exchanges most weekdays...wants to meet for lunch next week. I'm...a little surprised. But very much looking forward to meeting him, if only to see if we have anything left to say to each other in person. Hee. No expectations, though...he's still only almost divorced.
A decent-sounding guy contacted me through Hayoo!, but he hasn't posted a picture yet, and I have decided to be all guy-like and insist on knowing what they look like first. Go, me. Way to be shallow. Heh.
Haven't heard from Mr. Short Term in days....as I have mightily resisted the urge to remind him that I exist. Apparently I'm NOT so unforgettable to HIM.
Who needs him, anyway, right?
The McCain Supporter--remember him? He's never really completely gone away, he pops up with an instant message now and again. He popped up this afternoon--we actually had a decent little chat, and he wants me to meet him for a glass of wine tonight. I told him I was probably going to be too tired after work. (I still think that, at this point.) Actually, he was fun to hang out with, and I think we both know there's no possibility of a real relationship, so maybe we could just be friends, but...I hesitate to walk that road again, even platonically. Still, though...nice to be so unforgettable to SOMEBODY.
AND...Mr. Not Quite Divorced, with whom I have up to half a dozen email exchanges most weekdays...wants to meet for lunch next week. I'm...a little surprised. But very much looking forward to meeting him, if only to see if we have anything left to say to each other in person. Hee. No expectations, though...he's still only almost divorced.
A decent-sounding guy contacted me through Hayoo!, but he hasn't posted a picture yet, and I have decided to be all guy-like and insist on knowing what they look like first. Go, me. Way to be shallow. Heh.
Haven't heard from Mr. Short Term in days....as I have mightily resisted the urge to remind him that I exist. Apparently I'm NOT so unforgettable to HIM.
Who needs him, anyway, right?
Thursday, April 02, 2009
I'll probably keep my maiden pseudonym
Okay, for all you people singing "Lizgwiz and Hot Med, sittin' in a tree..." or doodling "Mrs. Liz G. Mediterranean" in the margins of your trapper keeper...we do have another date scheduled. He's going to make tabouli for me Saturday night at his place. Said date being arranged by email, of course...that phone thing is just NOT happening.
Now, let's just hope he doesn't monkey up his tabouli with bell peppers...'cause THAT would be a deal breaker.
In other news, we had our first "Fridiron" rehearsal last night. As usual with political parody, there are way too many parts for men, and as usual in Tulsa, there are way too many women in the cast, so...at first it didn't seem to be looking good for my getting a great song. I was actually considering backing out (call me a diva, but I won't simply be a spear carrier--sorry), but apparently the director sensed that, and following a quick chat post-rehearsal (where I stopped well short of being bitchy about it, but did express my interest in a particular potentially show-stopping number), she called to say she'd give me that song if I'd stick around. Deal! I will happily carry spears the rest of the evening in exchange for portraying our controversial mayor in a song to the tune of "Rhohemian Bapsody." I suppose I'll just have to deal with the mental darts being aimed my way by the rest of the women. Hee.
Now, let's just hope he doesn't monkey up his tabouli with bell peppers...'cause THAT would be a deal breaker.
In other news, we had our first "Fridiron" rehearsal last night. As usual with political parody, there are way too many parts for men, and as usual in Tulsa, there are way too many women in the cast, so...at first it didn't seem to be looking good for my getting a great song. I was actually considering backing out (call me a diva, but I won't simply be a spear carrier--sorry), but apparently the director sensed that, and following a quick chat post-rehearsal (where I stopped well short of being bitchy about it, but did express my interest in a particular potentially show-stopping number), she called to say she'd give me that song if I'd stick around. Deal! I will happily carry spears the rest of the evening in exchange for portraying our controversial mayor in a song to the tune of "Rhohemian Bapsody." I suppose I'll just have to deal with the mental darts being aimed my way by the rest of the women. Hee.
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