Well, well, well

A lot has happened since May. Maybe I have a...I can't say it. I've been dating someone. I said to him the other day, "we're dating, right?" And he says, "we are?" I say, "aren't we?" He says, "It sounds more real when you say it."

It doesn't feel real. Met him for the first time six weeks ago. We met via an app. You know how long that's been going on. How many years...so many years. I was fine at first. One date a week for four weeks...things were slow and then they sped up. Now, after six weeks and three sleepovers, I'm finally starting to feel that nagging anxiety that dating often brings me.

But other things. The Musician. I was booked back-to-back on the first date. First the new guy, then the Musician. The date went well and ran long. The Musician never got back to me. Really never: to this day, I still haven't heard from him. We'd seemed to be back on an even keel, but perhaps not? Doesn't matter. I sent him a multi-part text the other day wishing him well and saying it was over. I didn't mention that I'm seeing someone because that's not why it's over. For sure having a new guy gave me the courage to cut him off, but it's not the main reason.

My friend, the one who gave me the silent treatment, is back to being my friend, but we're definitely not as close. He doesn't text me as often. Which is not only fine but preferable. We may have dinner this week, though. Good. I still want to be his friend, I just don't want to be his therapist.

So, Mr. New Guy. He's pretty good, pretty interesting, pretty cute, pretty unusual. He's a vegan yogi with a software job. He's also got some heavy issues that need resolving before I can get 100% on board (I'm at about 85% now)...but he is actively working to resolve them. Number one, he needs to move and he's been looking at apartments. Does my mom still read this? Lord, I hope not. I'm not planning to tell her about him until he has a signed lease. But I'm itching for him to meet my friends. He is very sweet and says a lot of nice things to me--which I love but also have a hard time believing. But he believes it. Can I actually allow someone to like me this much? Can I take it? Can the issues that need resolving actually be resolved or am I fooling myself? When they are resolved, will he be gone like the wind? (Issue number 2 is both serious and easy to resolve and doesn't involve outside parties, unlike issue number 1. I'm giving him a chance and if he's sincere otherwise, I think he'll come through. That it was even an issue led to a pretty surprising meltdown on my part and I don't even know why he stuck around for that.)

This dude loves old radio shows as much as I do. Same politics. Musician. Lived in lot of the same places, notably NC. Much older half siblings. Still a very different cultural background and not a talker. I did *so much* talking on our first few dates. It's like I hadn't talked in years. He just sucked up all my stories like a sponge. He liked them and liked hearing me tell them. I've been struggling to get him to open up, and the other day he just started talking. It was like a real conversation--I'd mentioned something about my grade school years, and that reminded him of something and he told me about it. It was a major breakthrough even if he didn't notice. It all bodes well, but I have such doubts and worries. I know I will see him again. I don't know what's going to happen. Anything could happen. Anything.

Grateful for: patience.

Pleasant

Here's a non-exciting recap of my non-exciting, but pleasant, weekend.

Friday: I fully intended to go out in the evening. I had two happy hour options. What did I do? Sat home and watched a dvd. It was just complete and total collapse.

Saturday: a full and busy day. In the morning, I rowed. We went out in the quad again. I love, love, love that boat. I would be happy to only ever go out in the quad. I've been in a double a couple of times now, too, and that's ok. Both times, I was stroke--not due to my competence in that position, but due to my lack of experience sculling. It makes no sense to put me in bow. Bow in a double (or a quad) is a big responsibility--you steer the boat and you're always looking over your shoulder. I don't like to do it and I'd certainly be bad at it until I get more practice sculling. The weather was perfect, the water was good and it was a great row.

After rowing, I did a quick change in the car (I had the flexcar all day) and drove to Virginia to attend a birthday party for some three-year-old twins. It was fun, but it would have been more fun to shower and nap.

Instead, after the party, I drove home, showered and then went to pick up Diego. He was helping his nephew with his "flat Stanley" school project. Basically, we had a paper cut-out in the outline of Diego's nephew. We took it to the Mall. Diego held it up and I took pictures. Some came out well. Others…not so much. Diego will assemble a scrapbook featuring "Stanley's" experiences in DC and mail it back to his nephew. I hope the scrapbook does not feature our conversation, which was not appropriate for grade school age kids. Ahem.

After rowing, partying with three-year-olds and tromping around the Mall, the natural next step was to go grocery shopping. I did a small shop and then home, where I collapsed again, but this time with better reason.

Kansas update: when I looked at my phone on Saturday morning I saw two missed calls from him. 2:50am and 2:56am. I'd learned my lesson and set the phone to silent. When I saw those calls, I was angrier than when I've actually answered his late night calls. If I'd forgotten to silence the phone, even if I hadn't answered it, I would have been awoken at nearly three am. I had such a busy Saturday, I couldn't afford to lose any sleep. As it turned out, I slept well. But the inconsideration really pissed me off.

I stewed a little and in the mid-morning, I called and left Kansas a message. [Note: I did not call him at 8am--I didn't want to wake him.] I told him, more or less, that this had to stop, it wasn't friendly and it was lucky I'd silenced my phone. Not surprisingly, I haven't heard from him since.

This is the thing--I don't really mind if you call me in the middle of the night. It doesn't even have to be an emergency. If you have something to say, if you want to talk to me, it's ok. Maybe you'll do the same for me sometime. But there should be a REASON. It can't just be because you're drunk and emotionally stunted and can't figure out how to relate to me the rest of the time. It can't be a SUBSTITUTE for other kinds of communication. I shouldn't have to silence my phone every friggin' night because Kansas may be out drinking. Enough is enough.

And, because I left him that phone message and he hates conflict (shocker), I don't expect to hear from him for a while. Though he might send an email.

Sunday will be good, though. I've done laundry, made an omelet and done some knitting. Soon, I'll leave the house and enjoy this gorgeous day. I hope you all do the same.

Grateful for: lovely weather.

1:42 am

I think, "Did I hear the phone ring?" I get up and check to see if the phone rang. The phone rings again. It's Kansas. I answer the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, what's going on?"

I say, "I'm sleeping."

"What?" Kansas says.

"Sleeping!"

"Oh. I'm a jackass."

I say, "What do you want?"

"What?"

"What is it? Why are you calling me?"

He says, "I'm a jackass but I'm here. At your door."

"You're here?"

He says, "I'm outside."

"Oh, Kansas. No. Please go home. Please."

"You're right. You're doing the right thing."

I go back to sleep.

In the morning, I send Kansas an email: Did you get home ok last night?

He writes back: Oh sure. Me and the Nats went into extra innings:)

Jamy: Unfortunately, so did I.

Kansas: Because of me?

Jamy: Yes.

Kansas: Well you turned my drunk ass away nicely. Sorry to have woken you. No really I mean that. Sorry.

Jamy: Was I nice? Good job sleepy J! You worry me. Apology accepted. Off to court.

All this late night activity might make sense if it were about sex. But since sex isn't even on the table, I have no idea what inspires such bad behavior on Kansas's part (besides the alcohol). Is this his idea of wooing? It is decidedly not awesome.

I'm tired.

Grateful for: silent mode.