HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
Today, I am not in costume, but I feel like I'm in full regalia as "scared girl."
I'm thinking about moving.
I have an appointment to see an apartment today.
This has been in the works in my mind for almost a year...and if you look back at my post on my birthday or New Year's or something from last year, I talk about taking "that big step," so it's not like this is sudden.
But it feels completely sudden.
And I don't want to make a mistake.
I thought I was over the whole Boston thing, but clearly, that isn't the case. I'm scared of making some awful decision that I'll regret.
I'm scared that my moving out right now will make Wine Guy think I'm doing it for him and that I'm way more serious than he is (and to boot, I'm all paranoid because I haven't heard from him...I'm a freak). I also worry that if I move and don't tell him about it, that he'll think I'm way LESS serious than he is. I am a mess!
I'm scared that I'll sign a lease and not like the place, or that I'll want to move, or...I don't know, all kinds of things.
Quite frankly, I'm just scared.
So, what do I do? Do I run and hide at my parents' house, ignore society's conventions (as I generally prefer to do, anyway), and stay safe, never having to deal with the world on my own? Do I step out my comfort zone, deal with having to spend an exorbidant amount of money each month? What do I do?
I'm terrified of making a mistake.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Monday, October 30, 2006
The "Coupling" Weekend
Well, one friend and my mother seem to believe that there is "no way" that Wine Guy is seeing anyone else. I am mostly tempted to agree with them, especially after this weekend.
In a nutshell:
1) Friday morning, 5:30 a.m., I drive him to the airport. We're almost there when he realizes he forgot his wallet in his car, at my house...so we drive back, he misses his flight, and I hang out at the airport until he goes through security to catch another, much later, flight.
2) Sunday evening, 5:02 p.m. - 7:00 p.m. - I am stuck in traffic (I drove 2 whopping miles in an hour!!) and then driving around the entire city of Sacramento, almost to Elk Grove and finally, finally, to the airport to pick him up. Even though a major car accident on the road made me an hour late (a non-injury accident not involving me), he seemed happy to see me.
3) He invited me to a wedding. In December. In Las Vegas.
4) He met my parents. They approve.
All in all, this seems to add up to relationship, but I'll let him say the words!
In a nutshell:
1) Friday morning, 5:30 a.m., I drive him to the airport. We're almost there when he realizes he forgot his wallet in his car, at my house...so we drive back, he misses his flight, and I hang out at the airport until he goes through security to catch another, much later, flight.
2) Sunday evening, 5:02 p.m. - 7:00 p.m. - I am stuck in traffic (I drove 2 whopping miles in an hour!!) and then driving around the entire city of Sacramento, almost to Elk Grove and finally, finally, to the airport to pick him up. Even though a major car accident on the road made me an hour late (a non-injury accident not involving me), he seemed happy to see me.
3) He invited me to a wedding. In December. In Las Vegas.
4) He met my parents. They approve.
All in all, this seems to add up to relationship, but I'll let him say the words!
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Relationship?
He said the word "relationship."
Actually, he said "our relationship."
Okay, taken completely out of context, it probably seems to mean much more than it actually does. He probably meant it as a joke, BUT I'm a girl, and girls take these things a bit seriously (actually, guys do too, especially when that particular word has yet to be spoken).
Context:
We were talking on the phone fairly late (well, late for him, because he has to get to work by 6:30 each morning).
This whole thing started with a ten minute discussion on the Jefferson Starship song, "Sara" (anyone know for sure whether or not it has an "h" at the end...I couldn't find a definitive answer last night). He, for some reason, mentioned it. Then, I mentioned my great hatred for this particular song that was the bane of much of my childhood. I don't know why people insisted on singing it to me. It's not like Sarah was an unheard of name before Jefferson Starship came along to ruin it...
But that's besides the point.
Eventually, this discussion swung in the direction of whether or not Sarah should have an "h" on it, just in general. Of course, I think it should. He said that he always thought that if he'd had a daughter, he might have named her "Sara," h-less, because he doesn't like unnecessary letters. I said that Sara is naked without the "h," but that I might be a bit biased.
Somehow, this swung into me saying that my name backwards is, "Haras," pronounced "harass."
At this point, the world turned on its head.
He was BESIDE himself with joy that I knew my name backwards (it's not hard, and it sort of spells something, so, easy enough to remember, right?). But apparently, in his world, I am only the second girl EVER to be able to accomplish this amazing feat.
And that's when he said it.
"This is a pivotal point in our relationship. This is IMPORTANT."
So, there you have it. A serious word in the midst of what may very well have been a joke.
But so far in my experience, NO man ever messes with the word "relationship."
...and I'm taking him to the airport at 5 o'clock in the morning on Friday...that sort of fits with "relationship," doesn't it?
Actually, he said "our relationship."
Okay, taken completely out of context, it probably seems to mean much more than it actually does. He probably meant it as a joke, BUT I'm a girl, and girls take these things a bit seriously (actually, guys do too, especially when that particular word has yet to be spoken).
Context:
We were talking on the phone fairly late (well, late for him, because he has to get to work by 6:30 each morning).
This whole thing started with a ten minute discussion on the Jefferson Starship song, "Sara" (anyone know for sure whether or not it has an "h" at the end...I couldn't find a definitive answer last night). He, for some reason, mentioned it. Then, I mentioned my great hatred for this particular song that was the bane of much of my childhood. I don't know why people insisted on singing it to me. It's not like Sarah was an unheard of name before Jefferson Starship came along to ruin it...
But that's besides the point.
Eventually, this discussion swung in the direction of whether or not Sarah should have an "h" on it, just in general. Of course, I think it should. He said that he always thought that if he'd had a daughter, he might have named her "Sara," h-less, because he doesn't like unnecessary letters. I said that Sara is naked without the "h," but that I might be a bit biased.
Somehow, this swung into me saying that my name backwards is, "Haras," pronounced "harass."
At this point, the world turned on its head.
He was BESIDE himself with joy that I knew my name backwards (it's not hard, and it sort of spells something, so, easy enough to remember, right?). But apparently, in his world, I am only the second girl EVER to be able to accomplish this amazing feat.
And that's when he said it.
"This is a pivotal point in our relationship. This is IMPORTANT."
So, there you have it. A serious word in the midst of what may very well have been a joke.
But so far in my experience, NO man ever messes with the word "relationship."
...and I'm taking him to the airport at 5 o'clock in the morning on Friday...that sort of fits with "relationship," doesn't it?
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Banging My Head Against the Wall
Okay, so I am at the Internet Librarian Conference...perhaps because I do some work with my library's website, and because I work with teens (aka the minions of the internet).
I just finished listening to a session about how libraries can use flickr. Uhm, yah, not such a good session. Rather than talking about how Flickr can increase attendance at programs or instigate an online discussion about how libraries can do things differently, the talk focused almost entirely on the nifty things flickr can do. I'm okay with learning how to interact with the software better, but I still don't buy how this service can really be useful to libraries.
But that's not what has me banging my head against a wall.
Instead, it's conceited computer geeks. Not all computer geeks, just the conceited ones that make me feel stupid because I went to the movies with a guy on Saturday instead of staying home to code a virtual library in a fake city. They do it to me everytime. Seriously, I want to bang my head against a wall, or better yet, bang theirs against the wall of reality, the wall that exists OUTSIDE of a virtual space.
Here's my question: "People who blog have gotten fired for talking about their employers, what happens when people who use flickr start to post bad things about their library."
The answer: "Don't post bad things about your library."
And the audience laughs and laughs and laughs.
Yeah, it's funny, but I'm also in "professional" mode, and I want to learn what the ramifications of this software are for MY library. When I got to a committee meeting and try to convince administrators that this (or another tool) is something the library should invest time, and possibly money, into, I need to be prepared with answers to legitimate questions. If I buy into believing that libraries need my space or flickr or facebook or podcasting, I need to be prepared with the knowledge I will need to convince my supervisors of the need for these products!
And of course, there's the fact that conceited computer geeks always make me want to bang my head against a wall, regardless of the context.
I just finished listening to a session about how libraries can use flickr. Uhm, yah, not such a good session. Rather than talking about how Flickr can increase attendance at programs or instigate an online discussion about how libraries can do things differently, the talk focused almost entirely on the nifty things flickr can do. I'm okay with learning how to interact with the software better, but I still don't buy how this service can really be useful to libraries.
But that's not what has me banging my head against a wall.
Instead, it's conceited computer geeks. Not all computer geeks, just the conceited ones that make me feel stupid because I went to the movies with a guy on Saturday instead of staying home to code a virtual library in a fake city. They do it to me everytime. Seriously, I want to bang my head against a wall, or better yet, bang theirs against the wall of reality, the wall that exists OUTSIDE of a virtual space.
Here's my question: "People who blog have gotten fired for talking about their employers, what happens when people who use flickr start to post bad things about their library."
The answer: "Don't post bad things about your library."
And the audience laughs and laughs and laughs.
Yeah, it's funny, but I'm also in "professional" mode, and I want to learn what the ramifications of this software are for MY library. When I got to a committee meeting and try to convince administrators that this (or another tool) is something the library should invest time, and possibly money, into, I need to be prepared with answers to legitimate questions. If I buy into believing that libraries need my space or flickr or facebook or podcasting, I need to be prepared with the knowledge I will need to convince my supervisors of the need for these products!
And of course, there's the fact that conceited computer geeks always make me want to bang my head against a wall, regardless of the context.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Almost
I am at a library conference this week, and today I sat by myself at lunch, eating a grilled eggplant sandwich, reading a book and sometimes glancing up to look at the ocean. Lost in thought, it suddenly occurred to me how close I was to not writing back to Wine Guy (the guy I am dating, holding hands with and kissing....). I had gone on a couple of dates with the Intellectual, and I was still talking to the Nurse. I didn't want to get involved with a third guy - that sort of thing means that none of the connections are real and/or meaningful.
I had a couple of other e-mails that week from various guys from match. I wrote back to each of them and politely let them know that I wasn't up for starting any new relationships just then. But I kept Wine Guy's e-mail in my inbox. I didn't respond to it. I didn't erase it. I just left it there.
By the time I finally wrote him back, after realizing that the third date with the Intellectual would probably be the last and that the Nurse was never going to ask me out, several days had passed since his initial e-mail. I figured I had nothing to lose, and if he didn't write back, then, oh well, right?
He did write back, though, and now we're dating, and now, I'm happy. I continue to be amazed each day at how little decisions can change life. I also continue to be amazed at how following my gut instincts usually leads to good things.
Yes, it's been a mere three weeks and five dates. But it was almost none of those things, and that's a shame.
I had a couple of other e-mails that week from various guys from match. I wrote back to each of them and politely let them know that I wasn't up for starting any new relationships just then. But I kept Wine Guy's e-mail in my inbox. I didn't respond to it. I didn't erase it. I just left it there.
By the time I finally wrote him back, after realizing that the third date with the Intellectual would probably be the last and that the Nurse was never going to ask me out, several days had passed since his initial e-mail. I figured I had nothing to lose, and if he didn't write back, then, oh well, right?
He did write back, though, and now we're dating, and now, I'm happy. I continue to be amazed each day at how little decisions can change life. I also continue to be amazed at how following my gut instincts usually leads to good things.
Yes, it's been a mere three weeks and five dates. But it was almost none of those things, and that's a shame.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
Nice is NOT a Bad Word
Wow, nice is so totally underrated!!
I have had four lovely dates with a NICE guy. I'm really digging this whole nice, genuine, sincere (and cute to boot!) thing...
That's all.
Just a short little post from a girl who's happily dating a nice boy...
I have had four lovely dates with a NICE guy. I'm really digging this whole nice, genuine, sincere (and cute to boot!) thing...
That's all.
Just a short little post from a girl who's happily dating a nice boy...
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
On Anger and Other Things
At last night's Bible study, we ended up reminiscing about the not-so-good times in the sorority. It started out as a bit of a gossip session and ended up with rehashing the things that had bothered us during the time we were there...not the little, annoying things, but the BIG issues and arguments.
I realized that many of my angry moments ended with, "And then I swore her up and down." Yeah, and I don't swear on a regular basis, so when I get going, look out!
Not for the first time, I thought about how angry I used to get over seemingly little things. I think that a lot of my life was spinning out of my control, so when little things that I thought I could control went wrong, all of my anger got directed towards those little things. Rather than beating myself up over those tantrums (and they really were immature, childish tantrums), I just felt this great sense of relief at not having to feel like that anymore. In the years since college, I haven't been overcome by that rage. My people skills have improved dramatically, haha. It's hugely exhausting to get so angry, and even this morning, thinking back over last night, I feel this surge of energy just because I don't feel angry anymore.
In other news, I dreamt last night that my blog was featured in the "Blogs of Note," that I suddenly had 1,000 hits a day and that the comments feature was getting used with more frequency. Of course, I also dreamt that vampires came to my house and would kill me unless I told them the location of some signed baseball that my dad had hidden in my bedroom somewhere...so, you can't put a whole lot of stock in dreams, yah?
I realized that many of my angry moments ended with, "And then I swore her up and down." Yeah, and I don't swear on a regular basis, so when I get going, look out!
Not for the first time, I thought about how angry I used to get over seemingly little things. I think that a lot of my life was spinning out of my control, so when little things that I thought I could control went wrong, all of my anger got directed towards those little things. Rather than beating myself up over those tantrums (and they really were immature, childish tantrums), I just felt this great sense of relief at not having to feel like that anymore. In the years since college, I haven't been overcome by that rage. My people skills have improved dramatically, haha. It's hugely exhausting to get so angry, and even this morning, thinking back over last night, I feel this surge of energy just because I don't feel angry anymore.
In other news, I dreamt last night that my blog was featured in the "Blogs of Note," that I suddenly had 1,000 hits a day and that the comments feature was getting used with more frequency. Of course, I also dreamt that vampires came to my house and would kill me unless I told them the location of some signed baseball that my dad had hidden in my bedroom somewhere...so, you can't put a whole lot of stock in dreams, yah?
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Three Strange and Beautiful Things
I like to feel inspired, and so I frequently meander through Blogger's Blogs of Note. That's where I found Three Beautiful Things. So, today, I thought I'd try it.
Here are three strange and beautiful things from this week:
1) After a particularly challenging day for her, I wanted to help my mom relax a little bit. So, I set my iPod up for her, selected Martina McBride's "Reluctant Daughter," handed her the headphones, and let her be. Forty-five minutes later, she was still sitting in the chair where I left her, her head bobbing, her voice happily singling along to Clay Aiken. She looked at me, with joy in her eyes, and said, "I want one of these!" Then she got up and started dancing. It brings a smile to my face right now, just thinking about it. Really, that one moment could be all three of my beautiful things.
2) Having a second date with a really great guy. This date, in all of its glory has also left me with a phrase (and we all know how much I love my catch phrases) that I will now repeat over and over again for at least the next week, longer if I don't get tired of it, "Christian Metal never dies, baby!"
3) Eating really, truly, and wonderfully amazing pizza. I've gotten used to the frozen kind, or the ones from Costco, and I'd forgotten what good pizza tastes like, especially when it is delivered fresh and piping hot to the door...and eaten cold later that night for a snack.
Here are three strange and beautiful things from this week:
1) After a particularly challenging day for her, I wanted to help my mom relax a little bit. So, I set my iPod up for her, selected Martina McBride's "Reluctant Daughter," handed her the headphones, and let her be. Forty-five minutes later, she was still sitting in the chair where I left her, her head bobbing, her voice happily singling along to Clay Aiken. She looked at me, with joy in her eyes, and said, "I want one of these!" Then she got up and started dancing. It brings a smile to my face right now, just thinking about it. Really, that one moment could be all three of my beautiful things.
2) Having a second date with a really great guy. This date, in all of its glory has also left me with a phrase (and we all know how much I love my catch phrases) that I will now repeat over and over again for at least the next week, longer if I don't get tired of it, "Christian Metal never dies, baby!"
3) Eating really, truly, and wonderfully amazing pizza. I've gotten used to the frozen kind, or the ones from Costco, and I'd forgotten what good pizza tastes like, especially when it is delivered fresh and piping hot to the door...and eaten cold later that night for a snack.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
First Date
Last night, I went on a date with a very nice guy. Yes, nice. In high school, that was code for "ugly." In the land of twenty-somethings tired of meeting rude, obnoxious and pretenious guys, "nice" is a high, high compliment.
Last night, I talked for over two hours with a guy from Oklahoma, with whom I have a surprising amount in common.
This new method of me being myself on dates, instead of, "Sarah on a date," really works wonders. I have a better time, guys get to know the real me, and if they're interested, I don't have to worry about keeping up the charade.
It's new. It's not perfect. There are awkward parts where we learn each other's phraseology...
But it was a lovely evening, and he called to ask me out again. I'll be calling him tonight to say, "yes."
Last night, I talked for over two hours with a guy from Oklahoma, with whom I have a surprising amount in common.
This new method of me being myself on dates, instead of, "Sarah on a date," really works wonders. I have a better time, guys get to know the real me, and if they're interested, I don't have to worry about keeping up the charade.
It's new. It's not perfect. There are awkward parts where we learn each other's phraseology...
But it was a lovely evening, and he called to ask me out again. I'll be calling him tonight to say, "yes."
Monday, October 09, 2006
She Should Know Better
She's the girl who got made fun of so badly in the eighth grade that she would just stand by herself, huddled in her coat, wishing that looks didn't matter.
She's the girl who wished fervently, all throughout high school, that boys could just see who she was in the inside and not be so concerned about her lack of makeup.
She's the girl who went to college, joined a sorority, enjoyed getting dressed up but still got royally peeved when someone offered to show her how to put on makeup if she was feeling confused.
She's the girl who believes that what's on the inside, what makes eyes sparkle, what makes a person come alive, is what really matters.
So, she should know better than to judge others on their appearance.
But, she's also the girl who thinks that she still has something to prove. She sometimes still believes that if she were just a little bit prettier, wore clothes that were a just a bit sexier and had a super-hot boyfriend, that the ones who made fun of her would be proved wrong. They would see that she is in fact worthy of their attention and affection.
Thankfully, she's starting to grow up just a little bit. She's back to believing what she did in middle school, that it's what's on the inside that really counts.
Except now, she also wears makeup. It's a delicate balance.
She's the girl who wished fervently, all throughout high school, that boys could just see who she was in the inside and not be so concerned about her lack of makeup.
She's the girl who went to college, joined a sorority, enjoyed getting dressed up but still got royally peeved when someone offered to show her how to put on makeup if she was feeling confused.
She's the girl who believes that what's on the inside, what makes eyes sparkle, what makes a person come alive, is what really matters.
So, she should know better than to judge others on their appearance.
But, she's also the girl who thinks that she still has something to prove. She sometimes still believes that if she were just a little bit prettier, wore clothes that were a just a bit sexier and had a super-hot boyfriend, that the ones who made fun of her would be proved wrong. They would see that she is in fact worthy of their attention and affection.
Thankfully, she's starting to grow up just a little bit. She's back to believing what she did in middle school, that it's what's on the inside that really counts.
Except now, she also wears makeup. It's a delicate balance.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Do What Works
"I don't know about this whole Internet dating thing..."
That's the general response I get from my friends when I tell them about how I go about trying to socialize in the romantic sense.
Most are generally supportive and want details when I go on a date, but they remain skeptical. I'm okay with that...I'm skeptical, too. But, here's the thing, I have no where else to meet guys. I can't meet them at work (I work mostly with women, and the men who come in to the library are generally not, oh I don't know, sane?). I can't meet them at church (the men are mostly in their forties and up and married with kids). And to top it all off, my friends don't generally go for the idea of setting me up with their male friends. So, where does that leave me?
You can understand, then, that I was ridiculously relieved to learn that not only did one of my co-workers meet her husband online but that most of her friends date the same way. This co-worker is expecting a baby with her husband, so, clearly, things are working out for her. She's a real live human being who met her husband online. She's not just one half of a sappy testimonial, nor is she an actress in a commercial. She's real, and she's happy.
I may try the site she used (Christian Cafe), but, for now, I'm just thrilled to know that online dating WORKS for real people!
That's the general response I get from my friends when I tell them about how I go about trying to socialize in the romantic sense.
Most are generally supportive and want details when I go on a date, but they remain skeptical. I'm okay with that...I'm skeptical, too. But, here's the thing, I have no where else to meet guys. I can't meet them at work (I work mostly with women, and the men who come in to the library are generally not, oh I don't know, sane?). I can't meet them at church (the men are mostly in their forties and up and married with kids). And to top it all off, my friends don't generally go for the idea of setting me up with their male friends. So, where does that leave me?
You can understand, then, that I was ridiculously relieved to learn that not only did one of my co-workers meet her husband online but that most of her friends date the same way. This co-worker is expecting a baby with her husband, so, clearly, things are working out for her. She's a real live human being who met her husband online. She's not just one half of a sappy testimonial, nor is she an actress in a commercial. She's real, and she's happy.
I may try the site she used (Christian Cafe), but, for now, I'm just thrilled to know that online dating WORKS for real people!
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
The End of the Affair
Okay, so it wasn't really an affair, and we all knew it was basically over, but in any case, things with the Intellectual have officially ended in what was quite likely the most grown-up "break-up," I'll ever have.
My non-boyfriend and I had a mutual break-up.
The ten minute conversation via telephone mostly involved me being horribly bored, annoyed that he started in on the definition of "week" when I described something that happened on Friday, and he said, "Well, that was last week, not this week, and you said that 'this' week had been interesting, so unless you have a different definition of week..." I believe that at this point, it's obvious why he and I were not a match.
Still, the conversation kept on going. He described more of his plans for getting his Ph.D. "basically, I'll go until I run out of money." Yeah, good plan.
Then, he stopped randomly and said, "So, what do you think about what's going on with us?"
I said that it sounds like he's very busy with all of his "philosophy stuff" and probably doesn't have much time for anything else.
He said he had thought that he might not be able to handle a relationship while working on his studies for 80 hours a week (uhm, dude, you're not in med school, chill) and that I probably wanted someone who had Catholic beliefs more in line with my own.
I replied that I don't actually have to have someone who agrees with me on everything, but yes, it's nice to share a foundation (in my head, I was just thinking that it's nice to date someone who publicly proclaims an affiliation with an actual religion rather than talking about being Catholic and then saying that organized religion doesn't really work for him).
And he said, "So, what do we do?"
"Well, you go do your philosophy thing and your poli-sci thing, and when you're published you can come give an author talk at the library."
"Okay, I'll do that."
"Good luck."
"Good luck to you, too. You're a good girl."
"Thanks, you're a good guy."
And so, the end of the affair.
p.s. on a sidenote, I could listen to John Mayer play allllll night and not get bored. That boy can jam! Man, I love me some JM!
My non-boyfriend and I had a mutual break-up.
The ten minute conversation via telephone mostly involved me being horribly bored, annoyed that he started in on the definition of "week" when I described something that happened on Friday, and he said, "Well, that was last week, not this week, and you said that 'this' week had been interesting, so unless you have a different definition of week..." I believe that at this point, it's obvious why he and I were not a match.
Still, the conversation kept on going. He described more of his plans for getting his Ph.D. "basically, I'll go until I run out of money." Yeah, good plan.
Then, he stopped randomly and said, "So, what do you think about what's going on with us?"
I said that it sounds like he's very busy with all of his "philosophy stuff" and probably doesn't have much time for anything else.
He said he had thought that he might not be able to handle a relationship while working on his studies for 80 hours a week (uhm, dude, you're not in med school, chill) and that I probably wanted someone who had Catholic beliefs more in line with my own.
I replied that I don't actually have to have someone who agrees with me on everything, but yes, it's nice to share a foundation (in my head, I was just thinking that it's nice to date someone who publicly proclaims an affiliation with an actual religion rather than talking about being Catholic and then saying that organized religion doesn't really work for him).
And he said, "So, what do we do?"
"Well, you go do your philosophy thing and your poli-sci thing, and when you're published you can come give an author talk at the library."
"Okay, I'll do that."
"Good luck."
"Good luck to you, too. You're a good girl."
"Thanks, you're a good guy."
And so, the end of the affair.
p.s. on a sidenote, I could listen to John Mayer play allllll night and not get bored. That boy can jam! Man, I love me some JM!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)