A tale of two cancellations and an apology (Part II)

Where were we? Oh yes the Sunday’s date. It was going to be a third date, which is always promising. In my book it means I have at least kept the man interested enough to go meet again. Sometimes this means they have not slept with you yet and they want to sleep with you – not something that happens often. Or they have slept with you already and are looking forward to a repeat. Because I am changing my ways, I was hoping it was going to be the first one. I once had a roommate who said that if you wanted to make God laugh, you should confide your plans. God had a good laugh at my expense that day.

There I am, at 7:30 thinking. I stayed in bed until 8, and then got up. Wrote down the movie times in a piece of paper so I remembered what was showing where, and at what time. Cleaned the house a bit more, made the bed, and as I was getting ready for swimming I overhear a voice calling my name from upstairs – the upstairs were on a meet in Richmond. I was stark naked putting on my contacts, and I thought it was the TV, then I realized it was my name, so I answered and it was Edith, the cleaning lady. No one had reminded me she was coming. It was a good thing, because she would clean, but I had already cleaned and even done some laundry on my own. Felt so cheated. But anyway, I did not turn around, and told her I was getting ready to go swim, that I would be talk to her as I left. I am not sure if she came downstairs or not, but I turned and put on my swimsuit faster than Superman. Then off to swimming I went.

I had a bad practice and it was all my fault, I had lifted the day before and I was everything but flexible. So I forced myself, to do what I could, but it was not a good workout. Then as I was leaving the pool I checked my phone – was going to brunch with the Diplomat and his landlord – and I get this message from a number not in my contacts:

Not feeling well today, I will stay home. Sorry,

I was not sure how to read this, I was a bit confused and all. It then dawned on me, that he was canceling the date. But that was all he said, not a word, of lets reschedule, or call me later nothing. A flat out cancellation, with no option to maneuver around it. I called the Diplomat to arrange for brunch, and then tried calling the date, but there was no answer so I left a voice mail saying that I got his message and that I wish he felt better.

I drove away from the pool and that was when my insecurities, and the nagging voice in my head all came out. I tried to put them away by turning up the volume in the radio, but they would not go away. All they said was what a looser I was for thinking anyone would be interested in meeting me again. I know this is not the end of the world, but it seemed to me that when you are on your third date and so far the last two have been pretty good, you can think that this could be a potential success. That this is the one where you will know if this will become something a bit more meaningful or if it is time to call it quits. I had suggested dinner and a movie, because it would give us something more to talk about than what we had already discussed and it would give me some insight into what he liked, disliked, enjoyed and all that fun stuff.

I went to brunch and tried to put up a good face, but was not very effective. On the one hand my Sunday plans had just collapsed, on the other there was the rejection. On the one hand I could go work out; on the other hand no one is interested in you. My mind plays tricks on me like that; it makes little incidents become overwhelmingly important. I was overpowered by this wave of sadness that just left me secure in the notion that I am of no value to anyone, but at the same time knowing that I have to keep going because my neurosis will not allow me to stay home. I avoided talking to other people and did what my gut told me to do, cardio. I spend 1.5 hours running at the gym like there was no tomorrow, and thinking, thinking, thinking. I made sure I was tired enough that I could go home watch some TV and just vegetate. Luckily my neighbors saved the day and we watched a sad gay Portuguese movie and then Bitches and Bitches, sorry Brothers and Sisters which I love.

Why care so much you ask ? I do not know. At this point I would hope the walls around me would be strong enough, but it is at moments like this that I see how vulnerable I can be. I know on the one hand it is scary, but on the other it is positive. It means I care, and I promise to not just stop and retreat into myself, but to keep going. What else is there to do ?

PS. Should a boy call back to see if the other person is better, or be passive and wait for the other person to call back? What do u say readers?

A tale of two cancellations and an apology (Part I)

First things first, I need to send a big hug and apology to the couple from Chicago. I missed them this weekend, and I am truly sorry for that. I send them an email on Friday, but dumb ass I am they were arriving on that day. I know their stay in this city was not as fabulous as one would expect, and that they had to go back. They did get to see some people and I hope that at least that was nice. In my defense I am having the busiest time I have ever had at any job I my career. This is good and bad, all at the same time, because it leaves me no time to

Ok, that is off my chest then the next part of our tale. Saturday after a good swim practice, I went to brunch with the swimmers, and to my surprise and every one else’s Flawless came both swimming and to breakfast. I have to say that just looking at the man, made my morning. So at least the weekend started on the right foot. That streak was not to continue. After brunch I went home and cleaned, cleaned and cleaned. I had clothes all over the place and because I knew that there was a chance I might have company some time later on the weekend I would not have my apartment a mess. Things were put away, laundry was done and I even did the kitchen and some dishes. When I was done with this, I got a call from the Diplomat who was sick, sick, sick and he cancelled our dinner plans. I was bummed, but I understood. I was on my way to the gym and the fates knowing what was in store, had the Cook – an ex of mine, that cooks terrifically and loves entertaining – send me a text inviting for dinner. So there like Maria in the Sound of Music I could say that when a door closes and window opens. I got to the gym and did weights and cardio – cuz I hate my body, but also because I had not done chisel during the week and figured some weights are not going to kill me. I finished my workout, stretched and went home to get dressed and ready. Dinner was perfect; I was the substitute boyfriend for the Cook, since the real thing was sick. It was awkward, but we were only 4 people and of course I did a Mrs. Henderson and proceed to monopolize people’s attention and be witty and flirty and very entertaining. The food was terrific; I had worked out enough that I had 3 slices of yogurt cake – they were very small my dear Scientist – and a couple of drinks. The cook made a killer Rose Kennedy’s, just for me. The guests and the host were supposed to go to “Blowoff” after dinner, I had none such intentions, and proceeded to keep them entertained until 11:30 when they were also tired and went home. This is where I could write some fiction and say how I had sex with the ex, but no. I did not. It was not offered and I was tired and sore. I left the cook’s at midnight and went home like your everyday gay Cinderella.

Sunday morning came and I woke up at 7:30, going to bed early was he culprit and I started preparing for the day. I folded some clothes I had left on the dryer and checked the movie times for later. Why? A date had been arranged for the afternoon.

To be continued …

Oh and a nice surprise, I got an adaptor to move my pictures from my camera to the laptop and you will start seeing some new pictures in here.