Nip It In the Bud

Well I think I made it clear that I'm not interested in dating and I can't say I managed to do it with much grace but hopefully spared both our egos a bit of bruising and worthless confusion. It wasn't like I was a total ass and I didn't have to say the F(riends) word. It just sucks because he is a nice guy and I do like him, I just wasn't attracted to him. At all. And sure you could argue that I didn't give him much of a chance but I wasn't the only one thinking he just wasn't my type, even if I don't really have a type. Sure the whole unstable with a checkered past thing might be the tiniest bit true, but just a tiny bit. It's not like I seek them out. And yes, I am feeling pretty bad. Because I didn't want to hurt his feelings. And I didn't want to have to be the bad guy. But I do know 100% pure positive that I spared us both some agony down the road.

This is not really how I wanted to handle it, leaving him at his car with a "See ya." GOD. I am a dick.

Even though the Friends thing is true, that I think he's a cool guy and he's done some cool stuff and I wouldn't mind hanging out with him more, he doesn't want to hear that. "I just want to be friends." No one wants to hear that. But my sister, and I am grateful to her for telling me this, said that she thinks it would be OK for me to email him in a week, suggest a cup of coffee or something. That we could probably just be friends without having to say it.

At any rate, I'm feeling kind of shitty. And there's no reason to, I know. It's not like we were invested in one another at all. But I've never, ever been the person doing the rejecting (even though this really isn't rejection) and I don't like it. This must be why I became a serial monogamist. In some ways there's less pain and suffering. But then. But then.

I want a do over on my twenties. I don't know why I felt like I needed to grow up so fast. That was stupid. And so here at 30 I find myself wanting all the things I should have had at 23 or 25. I am at a point where I actually feel like I could date, see more than one person or just go out a few times with someone and have that be OK (whatever- I'm so not OK about this but I think it's mostly because he's so damned nice and just not doin' it for me). I think that this time around I could recognize when I am getting to know someone and it is a good thing and that I could go for it rather than running in the other direction every time I saw him. I do apologize, Matt Barton.

I have a confession. Not only do I have a mad crush on Mr. Grand Canyon at the bike shop, I am head over heels for another young man. Young. He's all of 20. Not even 21. TWENTY. He has no idea how cute and incredibly cool he is. He will make some woman very happy. I'm sure of it. I do believe Mr. Grand Canyon is more age appropriate. Man, he drives me nuts any time he comes near. I think I might be boy crazy right now. And another. I still, despite all the bullshit, feel like I have unfinished business with T. It may be something I just have to let go but every time I think I'm "cured" he pops back up. In my mind or my heart or whatever. I don't know what to do with these feelings that I'm not even sure about; he really got under my skin.

Fucking men. Back to life.

Here It Comes

The biggest, crunchiest, dilly-est motherfucking pickle you've ever seen.

Not three hours after talking to my sister about how to make it clear that this is just a friendly thing what do I do? Exactly what we decided I shouldn't do. Walk him home from pizza with a couple of my friends. I knew I was sending the wrong message in inviting him to pizza. Don't get me wrong, we had a good time. It was actually really fun. I have cool friends. But I didn't want him to think that it was an audition or anything. And then I go and walk him home. What the fuck? This does not say I just want to be friends. I am a bad, bad person.

Because, at the same time I thinking about how I had just told my sister that my type is more the unstable with a checkered past kind of guy and she's saying how's that working out for you and that maybe I might give this guy a chance, this guy who's kind of goofy charming and too nice for his own good, I'm thinking about the guy who just came back to the bike shop from vacation. The one who I noticed as soon as I walked into the morning meeting today. The who just spent 16 days in the Grand Canyon and has fresh tatoos on his arms and who wears his jeans just so and his shirt that kind of short and small sexy bike messenger way. The guy who made a point of visiting with me and who complimented me on my choice of ride. Goddamn.

Then again, maybe it was just the bee sting on my jaw that I received yesterday about a third of the way into my ride and that has since swollen and made me look like I have a bad tooth. Maybe he wanted to stare but felt bad and so had to talk to me to cover up for himself.

I am a bad, bad person. Friendly. Friendly. It's all friendly from here on out. Why oh why would I fuck with someone so nice? Especially since I have been fucked with myself. I blame the beer. No more drinking around this guy until I can make sure we all know what's going on. Myself included. Especially me. Please god let me not be an ass.

I am, as my sister is fond of saying, a disaster.

Set Up

I am two days off a set up with a friend of a friend and feeling that familiar pull to turn this into something I don't necessarily want or need. He's really nice. Really nice. And smart, which is important. Has a dry sense of humor. Has done lots of cool things. Is a cyclist. And, perhaps most importantly here, has a hernia. Why the hell would that be important? Because I am infamous for taking the F train right into the bedroom. And you can't really do that with a hernia. So I will be forced to get to know this guy before I see any nudity. And that's good. Because I like him but I don't know if I'll Like him. I could easily turn this into a pickle.

I talked to the friend that did the setting up tonight and she made some of my reservations go away. Told me that he is probably the most well liked guy in her class. Serves as a bridge between the cool kids and the not cool kids (ie the under and over 30s). That the sole person she told about the set up was really excited about it and hoped it went well for him. So people like and respect him. I think he's the secret cool kid. You know that one guy who you always kind of gravitated towards despite his nerdy glasses and weird gestures and strange taste in music? Andrew Dauernheim was mine. Carried around a copy of Naked Lunch full of post-its with notes he wrote down as he went about his day. He took me to get a tattoo recolored once. Anyway, I think this guy might be another Andrew. The guy you're so grateful to see in at a BBQ full of people you don't know.

At any rate, we'll see how it goes. I didn't really have any intention of trying this kind of thing right now. I'm only about 70% here in Seattle and I've still got at least a year to go, probably closer to a year and a half. And lately I feel like there's some unfinished business as far as this heart of mine goes. So right. We'll see.

Settling In to Sanity

I recently had the opportunity to take a new job. Really, a chance to apply for it with excellent odds of getting it. I'd have been making nearly double what I make now at my daily job. Great benefits. Vacation accruing immediately. But I took one look at the words "anything over 50 hours pays double time" and I got sick to my stomach. Sure I work 55 hours a week now. But I'm not sitting at a desk. I'm not in front of a computer. I'm not on the phone with folks who are convinced that if their files aren't complete by 5PM (and they're telling me this at 4:50) blood will rain from the sky. I have worked hard for the sanity that I now enjoy. Hard I tell you. And I promised myself in October when I left the job from hell that I would never, ever, ever again work a shit job just for the money. No I don't live in luxury. I struggle. And no I probably don't work to my "full potential". But I am sane when I get home. I have room left in my head to do the things I feel passionate about. And I actually like my crappy, poorly paying jobs. You cannot make me go back to a desk.

By the by, there are indeed numerous lovely and appealing boys at the bike shop. Look, don't touch. Anyone that cute is sure to be an irresponsible ass. It is, however, surprising the number of them that are married.

Helluva Few Days

My young friend and I saw Swell Season Wednesday night. I will not be able to adequately express how simply goddamned good they were. I will just tell you they blew me away.

But there is a story... My YF and I are standing in line at the theatre and our big plan was that she was going to take my Starbucks card (a thank you from work) and go around the corner for coffee and a bathroom while I held our place and then I would go to the bathroom once she came back. Anyway, she set off and not two minutes later I see this guy strolling up the sidewalk and I'm thinking, holy shit that looks like T. Then he crosses the street and heads to this big old bus and I realize it's Glen Hansard. And I don't think anyone else noticed. So then my YF calls and Starbucks is closed so she comes back to get in line but now she's antsy and thinks I NEED coffee and she really does need a bathroom so she heads off in the other direction down 2nd Ave. (the one time we want a Starbucks in Seattle and we can't find one). About two minutes later I see this girl sprinting up 2nd and she makes to run across the street against the light but decides better of it and I realize it's Marketa Irglova. I'd bet she and my YF went right by each other on the street. Anyway, then the line starts moving a whole hour before I thought it was going to and I have to call my YF and she's just getting on the escalator at Westlake (a really long way away- she must have booked it) to go to the bathroom and I tell her forget it and come back. So we didn't get our coffee. And she barely made it to the bathroom. But I saw Glen and Marketa.

While introducing one of the songs Swell Season played Glen Hansard talked about giving a sweetheart a mix tape that said everything you couldn't. It made me realize that we, as the tail end of the Gen Xers, are the last of the mix tape aficionados. Never again will teenagers and college students sit on the edges of their beds painstakingly fast forwarding and rewinding through the "Reality Bites" and "So I Married An Axe Murderer" soundtracks finding just the right song to record, tape to tape, for that special someone. Sad, really. It's just too easy to burn a CD off of iTunes. Making a mix tape showed you really cared.


For dinner the other night my YF and I went to Mr. Gyro's. I was totally jonesing (did I just say that?) for a big old drippy chicken gyro and a coupla cute boys and she's up for anything. One thing I love about her... Anyhoo, it's a couple of Greek to the bone brothers who run the place and they are incredibly cute. And they're really friendly. And I like going in there because I always feel like they opened the store just for me to get my gyro fix. The older of the two isn't necessarily the cuter but I like him better. When I walked in the other night he remembered that I get a chicken gyro to go and was all smiles and hellos even though I hadn't been in there since March. They're like that with everyone. I know T. liked going there for the same reasons. But the other night I got a little different vibe from the older brother. My YF and I ended up sticking around to eat and we were all chatty and silly like always. When we left she announced that she had caught the older brother checking me out more than once or twice (and not because we were being loud- she said once she caught him during a lull in our conversation when I was reading this review and she made eye contact with him and he got all red and looked away) and that the vibe she got was definitely one of interest. And I kind of thought so but I'm pretty bad at this. I should just start hauling her around. (Please excuse the run on paragraphs that are about to occur so as to indicate that this is one lllooonnnggg story). So then I was telling my sister about Mr. Gyro and I told her how I was going to go in there and be all smooth and she heard me say smooth and started laughing maniacally and said, "You're doomed." Because, yes, I am anti-smooth. I told my wax lady about it and she said that at least if I wasn't smooth acting I'd be smooth "somewhere". I thought that was funny and called my sister and told her and she was like, "NOOO. Doesn't she know that if she puts those words in your head they might come out of your mouth?" So then I told Jen about my sister and the wax lady and she almost choked on her bagel knowing full well that something so horrifying as, "Hey baby, at least I'm smooth down there," could very easily come out of my mouth during a weak moment. Then she goes and mentions "My Big Fat Greek Wedding". So then I got all worried that something about that might come out of my mouth the next time I went in. Jesus. I decided I needed to get back in there ASAP and see for myself if there was really a vibe. So I concocted a plan to go in and pick up some baklava for a dinner engagement this weekend. I figured if I could get my name out of my mouth and maybe get his I'd be leaps and bounds ahead of myself. So in I went today and you know what? The vibe was totally different. And they were out of baklava. So all that getting worked up and worried and wearing sexy underwear (confidence booster, you know) for probably a whole lot of nothing. Didn't even have to say my name. Just, "Out of baklava? Bummer. Thanks."

And if you can't get a cute boy at Mr. Gyro's you can at Gregg's. I start the first part time job (in addition to my full time drudgery) I've had in years at the local bike shop next week. The employee discount is just one of the perks of working at a bike shop.

My new job was also an excuse to buy a much needed pair of shoes. I just needed a cheap but decent pair to wear to work so my poor sad Earth shoes didn't get anymore wear than already have. Near death. Anyhoo, I went and bought myself a pair of Ked's. Ked's! Remember those? And I love them.

Another product I'm in love with? Kiss My Face peaches and cream lotion. You know those weird bumps you get on your upper arms? Of course you do. Gone in like two days. And I smell nice all day long. And it's all natural. Hooray!