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?

When a missed connection backfires…

Last week was difficult, no matter how much I try to put it, I was. I worked 10 hour days and worked out every day – yay! for me and then had a little debacle Saturday when I saw the missed connection and he refused to give his number. Oh well, I was crushed at first, I always am, it’s the only way I deal with the little problems in the world. I turn them into storms that threaten to drown me, but then they are just storms in a teacup, really because after thinking about it, I came to the conclusion that it is not a big deal. It’s sad, the Diplomat told me that it took me too long, and my reply yes, but he could have asked for my number too and he didn’t. Of course this train of thought leads me to believe that there is no point in making an effort, and asking people out or even asking or other people’s digits or information. It is sad and a reality that at 30, no one is coming and asking me out on dates, but we all have our crosses to bare, and I will continue to go on dates, coffee, dinner, movie ones until I find someone that finds enticing enough to ask me back. As much as I want to throw a pity party and cry, I can not. I have never been a crier, which is a shame, I would love to be able to cry sometimes and just get through the emotions by doing something other than cardio. Unfortunately – and no this is nor part of the shtick – I just never cry.

I am left with many unanswered questions, where does one go from a missed connection? Why is my mind playing tricks on me, making me believe people are actually interested? Why do we think that we want something, when after truly analyzing the situation we realize that is not what we are looking for? All this are particularly valid when it comes to romance. Why is it so important to think and over think things that in the long run are mute points for our existence? My answer is short we are privileged, over-educated people with way too much time. If had real problems to keep ourselves busy, such as where is my next meal coming from, or where am I going to sleep tomorrow we would just be busier and not really depressed over someone not giving us a phone number.

Well that is the start of the week, here is to hoping that it will get better, the cold is here with us, and so is the thermal underwear – has anyone ever worn slacks with long-johns? - they feel weird, but I thought better prepared than sorry.

PS. the picture has nothing to do with the post, just a comment !

Missed Opportunities

A Saturday night three weeks ago, I am in JR’s listening to show tunes with the Diplomat and the Cowboy. We were there enjoying what was to be the last show tunes with the Cowboy for a while at least and an architect, no lets not confuse with the Architects, another architect came up and talked to me. He is kinda sorta my type and we talked for a while and even my chaperons agreed that he seemed interest. This came as no surprise; I knew this person from before and even if your circles of friends are somewhat close, he has never been someone I even knew by first name, but I had talked to him on several occasions and I always thought, ummm he interesting.

This particular Saturday we were on a tight schedule, because there was a farewell and party and at 8, as soon as the last show tune played we promptly left the bar to go help the Cowboy set up and all that. As I left I talked to him and said that I wanted his number and that next time he saw me he should give it to me. He demurred, and I have him a quick kiss as I left the bar. Of course that was a great ego boost, and I proceeded to have a very good time at the farewell party.

I did not think much of my promise to get his number and my lack of balls to ask it and get it that Saturday because I see him at show tunes on pretty regular basis, so the next Monday was the Golden Globes and we skipped JR’s in lieu of a viewing of the award show. I again thought well I will see this guy next weekend or next Monday, the Diplomat and I usually go to JR’s after Monday’s practice. In an ideal world I would see him the Monday after, but guess what, he does not show. Then to add insult to injury he does not show there last night at all. Of course the diplomat informs me that his best friend moved to NY and of course now I am left there in the cold, with no number and no way of even knowing where this architect is.

Lesson is, dear readers, ask for the number. Do not wait !

That being said this is DC, so hopefully I will see him around, maybe, maybe not, I guess this time its all on the fates hands.