And now, the moment you've all been waiting for...a glimpse into the 30-something single-girl dating diary. Dim the lights, pop the popcorn and get comfortable because you're all in for a entertaining treat.
Okay, maybe not.
I have to admit - I'm way out of practice when it comes to this whole dating thing. My last relationship was over 6 years, immediately following a 4 year-er, and my idea of date night was where someone else cooked dinner, there was more than just a fork on the table and I could wear heels (instead of flip flops) with my jeans. I know, I know.
I hate dating. Dating, contrary to what some good-intentioned friends tried to
convince me, is not like riding a bike. Because, you see, bike-riding does not involve progressively more complex and confusing levels as you age. You can wear the same bike-riding pants at 20 as you can at 30 and 40 and 50. You can even ride the same bike (or one just like it). You can get back on a bike seat and everything feels natural all over again. This is not the case for those of us who have been stepping around the dating puddle for such a long time. Apparently the rules (and clothes) of dating change as you age and all of it has the peculiar stench of awkwardness.
But, since we're on this whole living life kick I decided to give it a whirl. I got my nails done, my hair all fancied up, threw on a (gasp) dress and hit the town with random guy #1. Random guy #1 gets his name because we met in a random place, at a random time. I'm assuming there will be a random guy #2 - eventually.
Anywho, I guess in your 30s the word "date" means dinner and then maybe something following dinner if you're lucky enough to not have made a fool out of yourself in the first 60 minutes. Have you ever tried to have a conversation with someone you barely know that you're trying to impress and analyze all at the same time as you're chewing?? It's not that easy. Inevitably, there's always a question that comes right as you take a bite. But, awkward moments aside, dinner was filled with conversation (between chews) and very little silence, which I took as a good sign. Mission accomplished. And, I'm proud to say that I even knew enough not to consume enough alcohol to float a yacht (although the jitters were definitely encouraging me otherwise).
So...dinner's over...here's the true test...and the suggestion was dessert. Hmmm, not sure how to take that one. Here's what went on in my head, "Dessert? We just left a restaurant that served dessert. Is this a true extension of a date? What exactly does dessert mean? Am I over analyzing this? Argh."
Sigh. On to the next awkward moment.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Fears and Tears
Today's blog confession: I made my father cry.
Now I know that in my almost 33 years I've probably done a handful of things that have brought tears to my dad's eyes - like when I got caught by the parish priest writing scandalous non-Catholicy things, or when I blew out my knee and my soccer career went kaput, or when my pending nuptials went spiraling down the drain but I continued to date the ex-fiancé - but this was the first time he actually cried TO me BECAUSE of me. Well, not technically because of me, but more out of fear of something that may be happening.
If you've followed this blog at all, you'll recall my discussions about a particular health issue, which I affectionately refer to as "Carl." There's no actual reason for that other than calling it some random name seems to make it much easier to discuss (for weeks someone in my life thought Carl was a new boyfriend) and a little more palatable. It appears that Carl, much like a new boyfriend, still has a few surprises for me.
Reader's Digest version: My doctor's office called and said "biopsy" in the most chipper voice I've ever heard. Huh? I'm sorry, what is that you just said? I seriously believe Webster should strike that word from the English language. And no one should ever ever say it in a sing-songy voice. It does nothing except incite fear and, inevitably, tears. I shared the news with my dad who took it in stride until the very end of the conversation. He started to say that I needed to have every test I could possibly have, because....
Fear is a powerful thing. It can knock you over, take your breath away, remind you of the doomsday possibilities and distract you from the positive. It sits with you during the quiet, lonely moments, invades your dreams, erases the joy you should feel every day. Fear can hold you back, hold you down and ultimately immobilize you.
But I also believe that giving in to fear is a conscious decision. I sat with my own fears for a few days, then realized I had 2 choices: I could continue to let it define me, or I could defy it. Life is never promised to us, and each day is a very precious gift. So maybe, it some weird way, that too chipper phone call was a wake-up call from the universe, reminding me to grab hold of life and take in each moment I'm given (which included a great big splash back into the dating puddle - more on that in the next post).
Luckily for me, when it was all said and done, the word "biopsy" didn't turn out to be life-altering, unless you count the brand new outlook, new therapies and new meds. It was the good news I had been waiting to hear, the news that would make the fears non-existent, for both me and my dad. I'm honestly hoping this is one of the last times I ever make him cry.
May today you overcome all of your fears, dream all of your biggest dreams, and live in each and every moment.
Now I know that in my almost 33 years I've probably done a handful of things that have brought tears to my dad's eyes - like when I got caught by the parish priest writing scandalous non-Catholicy things, or when I blew out my knee and my soccer career went kaput, or when my pending nuptials went spiraling down the drain but I continued to date the ex-fiancé - but this was the first time he actually cried TO me BECAUSE of me. Well, not technically because of me, but more out of fear of something that may be happening.
If you've followed this blog at all, you'll recall my discussions about a particular health issue, which I affectionately refer to as "Carl." There's no actual reason for that other than calling it some random name seems to make it much easier to discuss (for weeks someone in my life thought Carl was a new boyfriend) and a little more palatable. It appears that Carl, much like a new boyfriend, still has a few surprises for me.
Reader's Digest version: My doctor's office called and said "biopsy" in the most chipper voice I've ever heard. Huh? I'm sorry, what is that you just said? I seriously believe Webster should strike that word from the English language. And no one should ever ever say it in a sing-songy voice. It does nothing except incite fear and, inevitably, tears. I shared the news with my dad who took it in stride until the very end of the conversation. He started to say that I needed to have every test I could possibly have, because....
Fear is a powerful thing. It can knock you over, take your breath away, remind you of the doomsday possibilities and distract you from the positive. It sits with you during the quiet, lonely moments, invades your dreams, erases the joy you should feel every day. Fear can hold you back, hold you down and ultimately immobilize you.
But I also believe that giving in to fear is a conscious decision. I sat with my own fears for a few days, then realized I had 2 choices: I could continue to let it define me, or I could defy it. Life is never promised to us, and each day is a very precious gift. So maybe, it some weird way, that too chipper phone call was a wake-up call from the universe, reminding me to grab hold of life and take in each moment I'm given (which included a great big splash back into the dating puddle - more on that in the next post).
Luckily for me, when it was all said and done, the word "biopsy" didn't turn out to be life-altering, unless you count the brand new outlook, new therapies and new meds. It was the good news I had been waiting to hear, the news that would make the fears non-existent, for both me and my dad. I'm honestly hoping this is one of the last times I ever make him cry.
May today you overcome all of your fears, dream all of your biggest dreams, and live in each and every moment.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Just a Quick Note
First, I want to apologize for the lack of witty postings. I have heard from a number of you about my apparent absence from the blog, so I figured I should probably write a quick note.
The truth is I recently had one of those moments when life comes around and knocks you on your ass. For some reason, this time around its been a little harder to get back on my feet than before. I've spent days walking around in emotional zombie land and haven't felt truly inspired to write (or talk or do for that matter) about anything. This is also my apology to those of you in my life who have experienced my lack of interest recently.
So - I may be MIA for a little while, but I will be back to regale you with stories of single hood shortly, just as soon as my legs get back underneath me. Thank you to all of you for your love, support, and continued readership of this fairly random blog, and I will see all of you very soon!
May all of you today find the things that pick you up...
The truth is I recently had one of those moments when life comes around and knocks you on your ass. For some reason, this time around its been a little harder to get back on my feet than before. I've spent days walking around in emotional zombie land and haven't felt truly inspired to write (or talk or do for that matter) about anything. This is also my apology to those of you in my life who have experienced my lack of interest recently.
So - I may be MIA for a little while, but I will be back to regale you with stories of single hood shortly, just as soon as my legs get back underneath me. Thank you to all of you for your love, support, and continued readership of this fairly random blog, and I will see all of you very soon!
May all of you today find the things that pick you up...
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