(love) song... or... why can't I sing this at karaoke?

I left A-town, to drive up in my big fancy rental car to visit the family - and I (thinking without much coffee in my system) put on the Ingrid Michaelson song "Mountain and the Sea."  Have you heard it? 

"You call me a mountain and I call you the sea.  I'll stand tall and certain and watch you swallow me. You can move me if you want to...  You can move a mountain...  You can move everything..."

That doesn't seem like much of a love song, but my trip to A-town put something... someone... in front of me and the depth of my emotion for and attraction to him was sort of surprising.  I've mentioned him in this blog.  He knows who he is.  He might even read this.  And he should know there is this (love) song coming his way. 

(love) because...  well, I certainly love him.  But when I say that, I don't mean romantic-walk-me-down-the-aisle-together-forever Love.  I mean the you-know-me-backwards-and-forwards-laugh-at-our-flaws-could-hang-out-with-you-forever-talk-about-anything-my-friend (love).  We could have gone a lifetime with that kind of (love) and never crossed the boundary.  That is, until we kissed.  

Now I wonder what happens when you throw a twinge of damn-I-like-kissing-you to nearly fifteen years of friendship. 

Ah, risk.  I have no fear of risk, no fear finding out what this (love) leads to.  But there are two people in this equation.  He may be quite right that there is no long term potential here, or maybe he's just writing it off because it is easier than (in his mind) putting the friendship on the line.  I know the friendship will always be there.  (love) doesn't get thrown by the wayside when you take that kind of chance.  The chance we would take would either bring us something really amazing, or become an amusing tale in the lexicon of what makes our (love) so great.

It's out there now.  In the meantime, he'll do a little housecleaning (literally) in case I'm back in A-town next month.  I'll keep on dating (oh, OKCupid you amuse me).  Then we'll go back to friends who wonder, and don't kiss. I suppose.

"But until then, oh my darling friend, I will hold...  Yes, I will hold on to you."

the path unexpected

I suppose not every post can be funny. If you need funny, I can tell you the story about a magician.  In the meantime, J-Red got me feeling introspective and I wanted to share.  We got to talking over our pedicures on Monday, and she didn't mess around -- she went straight for the jugular about my life, love and otherwise.

She got me talking about the biggest change in my dating perspective in the last couple of years. After mourning so many losses -- including my mother, my relationship with Grumpy Pants, the apartment fire -- I realized that I will never have the life I always assumed I would have. Ya know, the one with a husband, two kids, a decent house... where things swim along and life is some normal space between Roseanne and Cosby.

Don't get me wrong, my life is wonderful in many ways! And I've made some very conscious choices that might have derailed the "dream" yet have benefited me in ways beyond what I would have hoped for. I would chose all over again just the same. I can simultaneously appreciate and enjoy what I have, but recognize that the paradigm of what I thought my life would be for years and years is, well, dead.

The life I thought I would have now isn't what I have now, nor will it ever be... and so I feel a bit unhinged. In part, I want to give myself permission to mourn -- almost in a Langston Hughes/Dream Deferred kind of way. Maybe kids aren't in my future. Maybe the kind of husband (some uncomplicated NJB who loves to be outdoors) I was searching for isn't what will be right for me in the coming years. Maybe I will take more solo adventures again.

After I'm done mourning, I plan to celebrate. If all the rules and expectations are gone, maybe I will start exploring and seeing new ways to find love in my life. That unexpected stuff, the kind of things I see when I'm just taking the world in, as opposed to narrowing my vision to something specific.

The path unexpected has always been my favorite route.  I doubt this time of my life is any different!

harumph

Whatever happened to Mr. Nice Guy?  I've been asking myself the same thing.  I suppose it's kind of like the Cowboys at today's playoff game versus the Vikings - he never actually showed up to the game!

OK, I wasn't going to say that.  One friend recently chided me about sounding a bit bitter in my post about Red/the latter... but another friend heard me say this comment about Mr. Nice Guy today and he thought was pretty funny (not bitter).  So it bears repeating.

In actuality, I'm not sure what to make of Mr. Nice Guy.  I really would like to see him again, but then again I would also like for him to make a motion in my direction.  I suspect that if he were interested, he would let me know.

But I'll take my time.  Right now, I have a few professional/life things to sort out.  And honestly (in the most positive, not bitter way I can say this), I just don't have time for the odds & ends that come with trying to date someone who isn't fun and easy to date.  So I've stopped looking for a bit.

I'll say it again: I've stopped looking for a bit. 

Yes, really.

Don't look at me like that.

But if Mr. Nice Guy calls, all bets are off...

I asked him out.

I did it. I asked out Mr. Nice Guy. 

Via Facebook.  While I knew he was offline, at a meeting on the other side of the country on a business trip.  This is worse than the text message date ask, and I complain about that all the time.

Go ahead, call me a chicken.  T already did.  It took me 3 days of talking about asking him out to come up with "So, are you going to this big Jewish event that everyone else is going to, because you are on that list of 400 people on Facebook that were invited, that you haven't responded to (because I stalked you and checked), and that's during NFL playoffs?  Cuz if you happen to be going, maybe you'll see me there and then I can smile at you and you can think about maybe eating after since it ends at 8, and maybe since I'll also be there and hungry -- we can go together!"

So the email didn't EXACTLY say that.  But it might as well have.

Maybe I'm no better than when I was a teenager.  I remember one of my first attempts to get a guy to pay attention to me.  I was out with a few friends, I think there were wine coolers involved.  This was the late 80's, when it didn't seem so odd to stop in a park on a Saturday where other 16-somethings were drinking illegally-purchased booze.  After my 2nd wine cooler, I stood up and slurred out loud "I wonder who's the best kisser here."  I highly doubt the guy who kissed me was the best kisser, but he was the one who realized he might get to 1st or 2nd base with a drunk girl. (Luckily, in the late 80's, those stories end innocently enough!)

Of course then I was just looking for any guy to pay attention to me.  These days I'm a little more particular.

So the email to Mr. Nice Guy actually said something along the lines of this: "Any chance you are going to the event on Sunday? If so, would you be interested in grabbing dinner afterwards?" 

This way, I can assume his rejection is because he isn't going to the event.

But maybe, just maybe, I didn't misinterpret him lightly touching my leg the other day.  Maybe, just maybe, he's kinda chicken, too. 

I've got a crush... and the story about Blue Balls...

To be fair to Newfie, I developed a crush on Mr. Nice Guy before I knew much about Newfie.  I conjured an evening to get Mr. Nice Guy to my house for dinner (we have mutual friends).  Mr. Nice Guy is - well - a truly nice guy.  He's the kind of guy that's been single forever, but doesn't appear to be the consummate jackass bachelor.  He has lots of female friends, perfect manners, interesting hobbies and a great job.  Conversation with him is genuine and engaging.  He was the only person at the dinner party to help with the dishes.  Drool.  Oh, and he's a nice Jewish boy.  All these things are blinding to someone like me, and how I miss that he might have issues to still be single at 42.

He invited me (and 400 other people) to his birthday dinner last night, and birthday hike today.  I skipped the dinner in favor of the smaller group activity of hiking - there were only 7 of us who actually hiked.  I wish I could tell him that I have a crush, ask him out.  Am I imagining some intent/flirtation when he puts his arm around me, touches me on the thigh while we are in the car?   I hope not.  I got it bad.  And that ain't good.

And right about 11am when I show up to brunch (before the hike) is when the world reinforces just why I started this blog... There at the restaurant, sitting right across from Mr. Nice Guy is Blue Balls.  I couldn't make up stuff this good.

Remember I told the story about the predator at speed dating (see google-fu)?  And that "other nice woman" I ended up hanging out with?  She really was a cool lady - cool enough to fix me up with a friend of hers I (for reasons to be explained shortly) dubbed Blue Balls.  We went out for several weeks, and at the end of every date, on my doorstep, he would grope me so intensely that he was just about dry humping me.

For the record, if you get that aggressive before I invite you upstairs, I'm not inviting you upstairs unless I actually plan to sleep with you within about 5 minutes of walking in the door.  And I had an issue with Blue Balls - he would not invite me to his home.  I don't trust a man until I see how he lives, see for myself what books he keeps on his bookshelf, if he's smart enough to hide the porn, and figure out where he buys his groceries (a cupboard full of cheap Ramen for a 40 year old is bad news).

I suppose it made things worse for this guy that I had just read the best dating advice EVER.  Don't force a conversation with a guy about where a relationship is going.  Just be clear that you are not sleeping with someone unless you are in an exclusive relationship.  I questioned if this was good advice, until I tried it on Blue Balls.

After a few weeks of Blue Balls getting frustrated with the action on my doorstep, Blue Balls called me and we proceeded to have a 45 minute conversation where he kept saying that we had reached a "plateau" and he was frustrated.  And that he wasn't the type of guy to use this expression, but I was giving him blue balls.  (I guess you ARE the type of guy to use that expression, then.)

I repeated to him: "We're not exclusive, and I don't want to sleep with someone unless we are.  It's not fair to you, to anyone else I might be dating, and definitely not to me."   For the record, there really wasn't anyone else.  But that's irrelevant.

A smart man who really was interested in me would have said "I'm not dating anyone else." 

Blue Balls did not say this.  He emphasized the plateau, his frustration, that he never invited me over because he was a slob, and then he broke things off.   I was sad, in a way.  I wanted "the next level" with him, too - but our definition of next level was completely different.  I hoped he would open up his home and let me get to know him better.  He hope I would open up my bedroom and get busy.  Or at least that's how it seemed in our conversation that night.

About a year ago (maybe two years after our little dating diversion), I saw Blue Balls at a happy hour....  what I said must have finally sunk in, because he came up to me and said something to that effect, owned up to being a bit of a jerk and apologized.  If I was sweet, I would probably revise his nickname - but what fun would that be?  I have a feeling Blue Balls is a decent guy whose hormones made him miss a really important cue.

I'm glad I didn't sleep with Blue Balls anyway - that means there's no issue when I try start something with his friend Mr. Nice Guy.  Right?

a little update on Newfie and other diversions

It's true... I've been hiding behind stories of my past dating life, going back 20 years, to avoid talking about Newfie.  What if he ever reads this?  He might just realize that I am, in fact, an evil person and he should run like hell.  Except that I'm not actually evil - just very conflicted and (honestly) terrified of committing to someone without being more sure than I am now about where it could lead.  Giving up 3 or 6 months to a guy wasn't such a big deal when I was 27 or even 32 or 33.  But now time just seems so -- I hate to say it -- precious.  The whole religion/marriage/kids/"I'm going to be 40... Someday..."  thing.  It's not that I'm in a rush to get some guy to the altar, just not willing to be exclusive with someone before it feels right.

Newfie has found a little bit of game.  Post-Newfoundland conversation, he actually backed off a step.  But not totally.  We went out last Saturday, had such a great time that I thought I'd ask him to join me at my friend's Christmas party.  (Haven't gotten their report yet, kinda scared to ask).  And that night as I drove him home, he preyed on my weakness, and we fooled around a little more than I'd intended.  Given that the gender roles are a little flipped in this equation, I know he assumes this means something.  He wants it to mean something.  And I just feel guilty.

Then Newfie left for his home state for Christmas, on the other side of the country.

The night after he left, as mentioned in the last post, I had dinner with Slacker.  Somewhere near the second class of sake, I felt something very different towards this man.  It was like Angela Lansbury's voice in my head... "there's something there that wasn't there before."  And the flirtation commenced.

I've known Slacker for over 12 or 13 or whatever years.  We were housemates.  Many a night that man stumbled up the stairs, drunk or whatnot, and about passed out next to me in my bed.  He never so much as put a hand on my leg or arm in a way that was anything other than platonic.  The last time I saw him was six or seven years ago, and still... nothing...  but maybe Wednesday night there was something about the how much each of has changed/grown/gotten better looking (loving the silver streaks in his long hair!).  Anyway, suddenly there is chemistry. 

So from the 2nd cup of sake until he was standing next to me in my apartment several hours later, I was asking myself "what do I want to do about this?"  And I could avoid answering it.  That is until HE asked me what I wanted to do about it.  His question was in the form of a kiss.  A very nice kiss.  I'm still thinking about the kiss.

Hang on... be right back... just want to enjoy the kiss for another second...

And nothing happened.  I felt guilty, and Slacker knew it.  Even though my feelings are conflicted about Newfie, and I've made no pretense about dating other people, I'm still attempting some kind of loyalty.

Slacker slept on my couch that night (he was hiding out from his brother's crazy in-laws).  The next morning,  as he accompanied on my commute to work, we checked in with each other about the previous night's events like the mature, communicative adults we've become.  We agreed that nothing should happen that would ever lead to awkward.  I'm not sure what that could be - I haven't felt awkward around Slacker for a moment in my life and can't imagine that I ever would.  But I can't seem to think in the present, I wonder what a little fling with Slacker would lead to.  And I have a trip planned to his town in about 6 weeks for a little family gathering - what happens then?

Joe College, who has become my oracle of dating advice, thinks I'm being very clear that I "want to cut the puppy loose" and that there's no lines being crossed, since I've never said I was dating Newfie exclusively.  And Joe College likes the sound of Slacker. 

Since when did Joe College become an oracle?  And how do I really feel about monogamy and other such forms of loyalty?  One guy I dated said he was incapable of poly-dating.  I have always poly-dated, but that's because I don't often end up rolling around in bed with guys early on, and guys rarely last more than a few dates so I'm better off keeping a few around.  Newfie is clearly different - generous, genuine and sweet, unafraid to be totally present with me.  Something is definitely faulty in my wiring that I haven't declared him my territory and pissed a big circle around him to warn other women away.  Maybe my issues are real, but they are also the types of issues that don't matter when I am crazy about someone.

But Slacker?  Where the hell did that come from?  It's a good thing I don't believe in mistakes.