In the words of John Steinbeck - the best laid plans of mice and men...
I hesitate to write today - an unusual weekend, if a little subdued. My housemate was away for the weekend - chance to party and live a life of debauchery???? Haha - not likely! After missing the top step and doing quite a bit of damage to my foot late last week, I was confined to quarters for much of the weekend - not that I didn't have company, but still...
I'm finding the thrill of the new is waning a little - and by that I mean, it's great to go out on dates, and meet new, and usually interesting people, but I need a formula for dispensing with first date introductions and small talk. I've never really liked talking about myself - talking about people around me and situations is fine, but not me per se. And the first date scene is all about talking about one's self. Ad nauseum. And when you do it four times in one weekend... I'm sick to death of myself, and find myself inventing new ways to talk about me. Urgh.
Of course, it's more of a chore with some than it is with others.So I'm thinking I might take a bread from the whirlwind revolving carousel for a bit - and I must admit, there is one person in particular I am getting to know better, and rather enjoying it. We shall see.I remember meeting a guy once who had no idea how off-putting he was in introducing himself - recently separated from his wife, all he could do when we met for coffee was talk about her. Now I know I'm rather lax about talking about the ex with the new - rules dictate that one doesn't mention them on a first date, but that's not always possible, and the acknowledgement of the existence of a former partner and leaving it at that is acceptable in my eyes - perhaps, on a superficial level even briefly relating the reasons for the breakdown of the relationship is ok, but please, no woman wants to go on a date (even if it is just for a morning hot beverage break) and hear all about the woman he's just left behind - and the lack of their sex life since the kids came along. Good grief! On this occasion it was patently obvious he was not over this woman - and I am not a therapist!!!! He narcissism knew no bounds - so much so that he lectured me on keeping my sunglasses on (I should use my eyes to better effect!!! Frankly, he was so self obsessed, I'm surprised even noticed I had eyes) even though we were sitting outside in the blinding sun, to immediately texting me atfer I had escaped to ask how I thought the meeting went, how could he improve on other dates (presumably not with me) and did I think he was attractive!
On the other hand, I've had the other extreme - my extremely brief relationship with the Tax Lawyer was more and more painful with each date, akin to a growing rash that gets more and more irritating as time passes. At one point I had to stop him and ask how long they had been separated, the dialogue was so vitriolic, so bitter, and so utterly condemning. And he told me way too much - things I just didn't want to know. In the end I couldn't face him anymore - and in response to an avalanche of text messages one night, I did the unpardonable and told him I did not feel the same way he felt about me, and would he please cease and desist forthwith!
So I'm left wishing that it is socially acceptable to hand over a cheat sheet prior to the first date - this is all about me - do your homework and then we can skip all the introductory stuff and get onto the second date good stuff - getting to actually know one another.Friday night was a second date - and way more fun than I expected. Saturday was a first, pleasant, but I was left thinking - not for me, and nor did I for a second think that I was for him - then again one never can tell - as he left to get into a taxi he asked me to call him. When I asked "Really?" with a little too much incredulity, he looked amused and said"Yes, really, I've had a good time tonight". We'd spent the night perched either end of a couch swapping life stories,entertaining but no fireworks, so to speak. Sunday was a respite, my lunch at a winery was cancelled and I lay on the couch most of the day, reading and watching DVD's and taking calls from Mr Friday night at regular intervals. I guess I'm left wondering if the fireworks are important - every single time I've had them, it's not ended well. Like the anonymous quote above - is it better to have your heart warmed, of watch the house burn around you?
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