Well I guess twitterpation isn't always what it seems! You see, I broke up with Sean a week ago...I'm sure I broke his heart. For him, it probably came right out of the blue, except for those last three days before I mustered up the courage to give that final word. Every month that we were together, I had 3-7 days of an unsettling feeling, like everything was going way too quickly, but I just wrote it off as my natural desire to cut and run when I feel things becoming too routine....anyone can cite that personality trait by taking a quick gaze at my resume. Finally, this feeling peaked and I absolutely couldn't ignore it. He was so good to me, so nice, Mr. "I'll do whatever you want," constantly telling me how lucky he got, to nab a girl like me, and reminding me (also constantly) that he'd never let me go. I knew I couldn't sincerely stomach the upcoming February Hallmark holiday with my gut telling me to look into the study abroad programs at school, just to get away. So, finally, I spoke to my friends about all of these fears and frustrations, and anyone who knows how I function knows that by this point I had already decided it was past tense. It helps to know that, as it turns out, many people have many serious relationships (and, amazingly, even many engagements) before finding the one they'd like to stick with. It helps even more to know that, much to my surprise, my family and friends have stuck right by me in my decision, even though they all seemed to have got on fabulously with Sean.
It's weird to be sitting around, having a nice big glass of chocolate milk and realize that I just tossed any girl's dream in the wastebasket. Doesn't everyone want that guy who is ultra caring and sweet, wants a zillion kids, and is overall just darned simple to get along with? This girl has other ideas, apparently. And I'm certain that I wouldn't have it any other way.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Friday, November 30, 2007
I'm finally back to blogging (well, at least one, for now), after a long absence. Originally, I began this blog using names that were changed, posting whatever I pleased about whomever I wanted. Those days are over. I have no desire to hide anything, and I'm completely happy with the way things are going. Why wouldn't I want to share that? Enough said.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Going for it
Will karma come back to bite me on this one? I just don't know. With my luck (paired with my ever-so-optimistic outlook), I'd venture to guess that yes, I will pay for this in my future. But it's happened to me so many times, the other way around...am I just being too sensitive, when I ought to just truck on and not look back? The people in the rear-view being, of course, Joe and Graham. I suppose that's why they say it's smart to date one person at a time. But why close out the options? Had I closed out my options, I wouldn't have left myself open to the opportunity sitting right out in front of me. That opportunity, being, of course, Patrick.
Patrick is someone whose scent has been locked in my bloodhound memory since the day I first laid eyes on him. He's been off-limits that entire time. Aside from the fact that Jason, my first "real" and still very good friend from UPS, is very close friends with Patrick, there was a girlfriend of many years in the picture, which placed him so far out of reach that I was forced to bury my attraction to him deep down. This was not easy, but I got used to it. After all, I knew Jason used to have a real crush on me, and I felt weird about showing interest in one of his friends, out of some twisted up form of respect, regardless of Patrick's relationship status.
Jason and I have often double-dated with Patrick, since we all get along well and have a good time. Every time, it's been more routine for me to ignore my attraction, since Patrick sure seemed as if he preferred the company of more mature women (I'd say "older," but I'm doing my best to be polite...for the record, age really didn't seem to mature them anything but outwardly)...not to mention Jason's constant presence during any interaction that might have occurred between Patrick and I. This weekend, however, was different entirely.
I was invited to join up with Patrick, Jason, and friends on Patrick's boat this Saturday, which included no potential love interests of Patrick (I scouted this out, first thing). I wasn't even sure I'd get a chance to drop a single hint, and I've obviously got other variables in the background (Joe and Graham), but I left the option wide open, and...well...what can I say, but "Bingo." I couldn't believe it--not only did he reciprocate total interest, but he cleared everything right up. It's been so difficult for me to see through the haze of this dating ritual I've been taking part in, and how was I to know that it's actually possible to be attracted to someone without being scared of getting my feet too wet to get out of the water if need be. I didn't need to test the waters, I jumped right in--never underestimate the power of the cannonball. As odd as it still sounds to say this, I'm his girlfriend now, and sometimes it really is just that simple.
Patrick is someone whose scent has been locked in my bloodhound memory since the day I first laid eyes on him. He's been off-limits that entire time. Aside from the fact that Jason, my first "real" and still very good friend from UPS, is very close friends with Patrick, there was a girlfriend of many years in the picture, which placed him so far out of reach that I was forced to bury my attraction to him deep down. This was not easy, but I got used to it. After all, I knew Jason used to have a real crush on me, and I felt weird about showing interest in one of his friends, out of some twisted up form of respect, regardless of Patrick's relationship status.
Jason and I have often double-dated with Patrick, since we all get along well and have a good time. Every time, it's been more routine for me to ignore my attraction, since Patrick sure seemed as if he preferred the company of more mature women (I'd say "older," but I'm doing my best to be polite...for the record, age really didn't seem to mature them anything but outwardly)...not to mention Jason's constant presence during any interaction that might have occurred between Patrick and I. This weekend, however, was different entirely.
I was invited to join up with Patrick, Jason, and friends on Patrick's boat this Saturday, which included no potential love interests of Patrick (I scouted this out, first thing). I wasn't even sure I'd get a chance to drop a single hint, and I've obviously got other variables in the background (Joe and Graham), but I left the option wide open, and...well...what can I say, but "Bingo." I couldn't believe it--not only did he reciprocate total interest, but he cleared everything right up. It's been so difficult for me to see through the haze of this dating ritual I've been taking part in, and how was I to know that it's actually possible to be attracted to someone without being scared of getting my feet too wet to get out of the water if need be. I didn't need to test the waters, I jumped right in--never underestimate the power of the cannonball. As odd as it still sounds to say this, I'm his girlfriend now, and sometimes it really is just that simple.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Miles Away from Logic
Thank goodness for the ever-existent therapeutic effect of a good run. After finally getting out the door at eleven this morning, it was apparent that I definitely need to hoof it in the morning to a greater extent if I'm going to have a sliver of a chance at beating the heat of the summer (this week's been especially scorching), but it was still worth the sweat and sandpapery sensation I was awarded at the end of my route...nothing beats that feeling of accomplishment after honestly exerting oneself.
The need for that aforementioned therapeutic effect came later in the day, of course...as it usually does. Come to think of it, maybe I didn't use the therapy of my run as anger management on purpose, but its mood-lifting quality is what I place part of the blame upon. Blame for the really good conversation I had with Dirk today. Normally 2 or 3 quite condescending or otherwise neener-neener-neener type remarks present themselves mysteriously within our chatter, and the next exchange we have, be it per email, telephone, or in person, takes about 2 or 3 more months to actually take place--that gives each of us time to forget why we're pouting.
We spoke about his roommate, the roommate's girlfriend, shady ebay and craigslist dealings, the crazy merry-go-round of divorces and marriages which neither of us desires to experience, and life, in general, that only we can understand eachother about, for reasons beyond even my deep "Dr. Phil" side. I mentioned that I had seen an old ("old" in many respects) bartender friend of mine that day who offered me to come visit his new gig: at Yosemite Lanes. A potential job offer was even warmly extended my direction, which, to be quite honest, really does intrigue me. What could possibly pepper up my strange list of work experience more than bartending at a bowling alley, especially, to quote my old friend,"on the cheatin' side of town?"
Dirk mentioned we ought to go get a drink and visit at Yosemite Lanes sometime soon, and also made reference to the likely possibility of his getting rid of his roommate Jared, once his fire academy concludes...and that I ought to room there, once that happens. He said it just like one would say, "Yes, of course, I'll meet you at six!" like it's the routine, the plan. Right-o. I can't really fault him for acting so casual about it...I said "Yeah, seriously" in exactly the same way. He couldn't be serious (?)...
It spells disaster...but how far did spelling ever really get me, anyway?
The need for that aforementioned therapeutic effect came later in the day, of course...as it usually does. Come to think of it, maybe I didn't use the therapy of my run as anger management on purpose, but its mood-lifting quality is what I place part of the blame upon. Blame for the really good conversation I had with Dirk today. Normally 2 or 3 quite condescending or otherwise neener-neener-neener type remarks present themselves mysteriously within our chatter, and the next exchange we have, be it per email, telephone, or in person, takes about 2 or 3 more months to actually take place--that gives each of us time to forget why we're pouting.
We spoke about his roommate, the roommate's girlfriend, shady ebay and craigslist dealings, the crazy merry-go-round of divorces and marriages which neither of us desires to experience, and life, in general, that only we can understand eachother about, for reasons beyond even my deep "Dr. Phil" side. I mentioned that I had seen an old ("old" in many respects) bartender friend of mine that day who offered me to come visit his new gig: at Yosemite Lanes. A potential job offer was even warmly extended my direction, which, to be quite honest, really does intrigue me. What could possibly pepper up my strange list of work experience more than bartending at a bowling alley, especially, to quote my old friend,"on the cheatin' side of town?"
Dirk mentioned we ought to go get a drink and visit at Yosemite Lanes sometime soon, and also made reference to the likely possibility of his getting rid of his roommate Jared, once his fire academy concludes...and that I ought to room there, once that happens. He said it just like one would say, "Yes, of course, I'll meet you at six!" like it's the routine, the plan. Right-o. I can't really fault him for acting so casual about it...I said "Yeah, seriously" in exactly the same way. He couldn't be serious (?)...
It spells disaster...but how far did spelling ever really get me, anyway?
Competition
Shocked isn't the right word at all, because I was expecting it to happen anyway, but Joe didn't call yesterday. No text, no phone call, nothing. Not like I was waiting for it, but I did sort of expect him to get a clue?? Does it take awhile to sink in, or is he trying to give me a clue of my own? I didn't let it take up too much space in my brain, since I've already been letting the idea of being with Joe slip farther away from my grasp. If I've learned anything in my marathon of dating go-rounds, it's that holding on too tightly just isn't what it's cracked up to be. Especially when I'm the only one playing tug of war. What's the point of winning?
Graham called last night (!), and we talked for a bit. There's still a bit of the nervousness present in me when I talk to him, and I'm curious if he feels the same. I'm trying really hard to remember how it's been at the beginning with the last couple of people I've dated, but it's hard to go back to the start in my mind and know if my feelings and jitters are progressing at the normal rate. I guess it would be easier to remember beginnings of relationships if I didn't end them and start them over with the same person like pressing the return key on a typewriter.
We made a dinner date for Friday night, and that gives me almost three full days to obsess over what to wear and how to not look hookerish or matronly while still looking like someone this Graham guy would want to be seen in public with. Three days is worse than having an hour, since I'll have too much time to overanalyze the importance of every little detail of my appearance. An hour forces an urgent (and usually sensible) decision. And here I go, making it a negative thing that I actually have a dinner date on a Friday night with a good-looking incredible guy....??!!!
So everything's easy to see, right? Joe proved that he didn't listen to what I outlined as being of the utmost importance to me (daily communication), and Graham pulled through by actually calling before the famous "three-day rule" was in effect (our lunch was Sunday, he called Tuesday night), more points to pile on top of his staggeringly high score. Well, it couldn't really be so cut and dry. I guess it could, but this is me we're talking about, so naturally there are details to add that make this more complex.
Joe called this morning. Yes, in the morning. Just to call, for no reason other than a "hi/hello/how was your day," which is has been what I've wanted from him all along. I guess I'll ride this out, definitely for awhile. I do care, and maybe he just needs a few swifts kicks in the behind to get some momentum. I'm going to dinner on Friday, though, regardless. This is bound to get interesting.
Graham called last night (!), and we talked for a bit. There's still a bit of the nervousness present in me when I talk to him, and I'm curious if he feels the same. I'm trying really hard to remember how it's been at the beginning with the last couple of people I've dated, but it's hard to go back to the start in my mind and know if my feelings and jitters are progressing at the normal rate. I guess it would be easier to remember beginnings of relationships if I didn't end them and start them over with the same person like pressing the return key on a typewriter.
We made a dinner date for Friday night, and that gives me almost three full days to obsess over what to wear and how to not look hookerish or matronly while still looking like someone this Graham guy would want to be seen in public with. Three days is worse than having an hour, since I'll have too much time to overanalyze the importance of every little detail of my appearance. An hour forces an urgent (and usually sensible) decision. And here I go, making it a negative thing that I actually have a dinner date on a Friday night with a good-looking incredible guy....??!!!
So everything's easy to see, right? Joe proved that he didn't listen to what I outlined as being of the utmost importance to me (daily communication), and Graham pulled through by actually calling before the famous "three-day rule" was in effect (our lunch was Sunday, he called Tuesday night), more points to pile on top of his staggeringly high score. Well, it couldn't really be so cut and dry. I guess it could, but this is me we're talking about, so naturally there are details to add that make this more complex.
Joe called this morning. Yes, in the morning. Just to call, for no reason other than a "hi/hello/how was your day," which is has been what I've wanted from him all along. I guess I'll ride this out, definitely for awhile. I do care, and maybe he just needs a few swifts kicks in the behind to get some momentum. I'm going to dinner on Friday, though, regardless. This is bound to get interesting.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Ex-boyfriend Deja Vu, and enter Bachelor Number Two
The day was last Wednesday, and Joe (who I referred to as the "current beau" in a previous post) called, which I was expecting. I only use the term "expecting" because of the fact I didn't hear from him on Tuesday, and I desperately didn't want to begin the process of writing him off. Granted, I'm a pessimist, and thus always standing at the door ready to unchain the lock and bolt, never to be seen again in the relationship (as my track record of late wouldn't really prove...since I've been partial to prodigal boyfriends lately), but I really did want this to work. I do, still...don't I? I do. But seriously, harvest-season or not, time is there when you make it, specifically when you care about someone.
The point of even mentioning this conversation that was had on Wednesday is to mark a date in time that I specifically outlined to Joe just how much it meant to me to receive a call, or in a pinch, at the very very least, a text, as some form of communication on a daily basis. It wasn't a direct order, and it wasn't said in a nagging or irritating tone. It was presented in an assertive as well as flattering way, I'm proud to say. And it was discussed pleasantly for awhile, surprisingly enough. I thought it was pretty clear? Well, the clarity of it hit a foggy spell on the way to Escalon (home of Joe) apparently, because I didn't hear from him again in any way, shape, or form until Saturday night, after I was sleeping. Technically I was awake, but I decided I was officially "sleeping," since I really didn't have the patience to not fly off the handle...and this girl has no desire to tarnish her reputation for having quality, easy-to-read communication skills. Sunday he called (once again, in the evening...), then Monday afternoon, and I finally spoke with him.
He knew I was grumpy (I'm not good at hiding it), I told him why, he apologized, and he delivered a speech almost identical to that of my ex in Stockton. I replied quickly with a very clear response that basically said, "There's time for whatever you make time for." Done. Of course, it went on longer than that, but that was the main message. I really want him to prove me wrong, because I know he genuinely cares, but it's been demonstrated to me time and time again in the past that my knowledge of someone's feelings for me, regardless of how true and real they are, doesn't make it less important for them to show me some consideration regularly.
As if there weren't enough to occupy my thoughts, I introduced another variable. Throughout my dealings with Joe, I have not deactivated my profile on match. Sure, it might be "cheating," it might not. I've decided it's not, since there has been no official conversation concerning a title with me in it. I've been especially at peace with my profile's presence on the site as of late, due to the lack of even a kind thought thrown my direction from Joe's scatterbrain.
Subscribing, on the other hand, might get me into trouble, though. I ended up giving in after I was emailed by a striking gentleman whose story I just had to check out. As it turns out, he's not only tall, dark, and handsome, but very smart and quite a guy. I know all of this firsthand...since we had a great lunch date on Sunday. Yep, now Joe has some competition. Not to his knowledge. But isn't it healthy not to throw all of your eggs in one basket right away? Especially when Graham is just sooo sweet.
Mr. match.com and I are supposed to get together later in the week, and I'm also hoping that Joe cleans up his act. I do care about him, but I already sense myself creating some distance. I don't want to get hurt. I just want someone to seem like the right fit, a fit that I don't have to squeeze into or bend over backwards. Dating shouldn't be as hard as shopping for blue jeans.
The point of even mentioning this conversation that was had on Wednesday is to mark a date in time that I specifically outlined to Joe just how much it meant to me to receive a call, or in a pinch, at the very very least, a text, as some form of communication on a daily basis. It wasn't a direct order, and it wasn't said in a nagging or irritating tone. It was presented in an assertive as well as flattering way, I'm proud to say. And it was discussed pleasantly for awhile, surprisingly enough. I thought it was pretty clear? Well, the clarity of it hit a foggy spell on the way to Escalon (home of Joe) apparently, because I didn't hear from him again in any way, shape, or form until Saturday night, after I was sleeping. Technically I was awake, but I decided I was officially "sleeping," since I really didn't have the patience to not fly off the handle...and this girl has no desire to tarnish her reputation for having quality, easy-to-read communication skills. Sunday he called (once again, in the evening...), then Monday afternoon, and I finally spoke with him.
He knew I was grumpy (I'm not good at hiding it), I told him why, he apologized, and he delivered a speech almost identical to that of my ex in Stockton. I replied quickly with a very clear response that basically said, "There's time for whatever you make time for." Done. Of course, it went on longer than that, but that was the main message. I really want him to prove me wrong, because I know he genuinely cares, but it's been demonstrated to me time and time again in the past that my knowledge of someone's feelings for me, regardless of how true and real they are, doesn't make it less important for them to show me some consideration regularly.
As if there weren't enough to occupy my thoughts, I introduced another variable. Throughout my dealings with Joe, I have not deactivated my profile on match. Sure, it might be "cheating," it might not. I've decided it's not, since there has been no official conversation concerning a title with me in it. I've been especially at peace with my profile's presence on the site as of late, due to the lack of even a kind thought thrown my direction from Joe's scatterbrain.
Subscribing, on the other hand, might get me into trouble, though. I ended up giving in after I was emailed by a striking gentleman whose story I just had to check out. As it turns out, he's not only tall, dark, and handsome, but very smart and quite a guy. I know all of this firsthand...since we had a great lunch date on Sunday. Yep, now Joe has some competition. Not to his knowledge. But isn't it healthy not to throw all of your eggs in one basket right away? Especially when Graham is just sooo sweet.
Mr. match.com and I are supposed to get together later in the week, and I'm also hoping that Joe cleans up his act. I do care about him, but I already sense myself creating some distance. I don't want to get hurt. I just want someone to seem like the right fit, a fit that I don't have to squeeze into or bend over backwards. Dating shouldn't be as hard as shopping for blue jeans.
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