Stupid

Thursday night, I watched basketball with Kansas (my alcoholic ex-non-boyfriend). It wasn't planned. I had no guarantee that he'd be at the bar (well, except that he's a barfly). I cannot justify my behavior or my pursuit of the unavailable. The bizarre cherry on top of the night was that Sailor (faded work crush) was there too. I'll get to that in a minute.

That night, I was bound and determined to push myself a little out of the comfort zone of work-home-knit. I've been doing this volunteer thing and the organization was holding a happy hour, so I went.

I didn't stay long. Not only would no one talk to me—no one would even make eye contact. It was pathetic. I was the only solo person there. How can you go to such an event just to hang out with your friends? Crazy. One guy turned around to move his coat out of my way, talked to me, moved his coat, then turned back to continue a conversation with his friend. About Easter timing. Seriously. That's pretty private, emotional stuff. Good call on not including me.

I was so frustrated that I finished my drink ultra quick and scooted off. You might almost say I left in a huff. I was frustrated and I wanted to see a friendly face. I wanted someone to be happy to see me.

Walking to the happy hour bar, I'd promised myself that if things did not go well, I could go to the old bar and see what was what. After that one quick drink, it seemed like an especially good plan.

No, of course, I knew it was "wrong." I did a little internal tussling, but my course was set and I was staying it.

When I walked into the old bar, there was Kansas, perched on his usual stool in his usual spot. He perked up when he saw me but didn't seem especially surprised that I was there. I sat down next to him and we started up an easy conversation and I ordered a drink. I said, "You're something. You don't seem surprised to see me at all."

He said, "It's basketball season." True enough.

Sitting next to him, I felt bittersweet affection. I haven't spent a lot of time thinking about Kansas, other than ruefully, but I know that I like him. I had a brief moment or two when I thought about kissing him again. And then I remembered what it was actually like to kiss him and I remembered the snoring. I sighed and turned back to the basketball game and let go of my fantasy.

On a trip back from the restroom, I saw Sailor. He was sitting on the crowded side of the bar, out of view of Kansas's spot. I couldn't tell if he was on his own or with the guy sitting next to him. I was surprised and happy to see him. I stopped and we chatted—about basketball, of course.

Sailor is as unavailable and unattainable as Kansas. He is appropriate, though, so a better object of affection. But it kind of doesn't matter. Neither one of them has boyfriend potential. And, as you may recall (but I don't recall if I wrote about it), Kansas doesn't want to be my boyfriend either. He just wants someone to lean on. Sailor doesn't even want that (from me). I'm so tired of only liking unavailable men. When will I learn my lesson?

I got back to Kansas and said, "Huh. I just ran into this guy from work."

"Really? Good or bad?"

I thought for a second, "I don't know. I had a big crush on him but he didn't like me. What's wrong with him?"

Kansas said, "What indeed!"

I said, "You know, I don't think I have a crush on him anymore." (I believed it when I said it.)

"You don't. That's good."

Kansas asked if I was going to come back on Friday and watch the Carolina game. He said, "It's at 7:10pm. I'll be here. You can watch it here."

"Maybe."

"Or at home. All the games are online."

I said, "I'll probably come here. Sure."

I had a great time watching Duke almost lose (Butler: I love you forever after that game). As soon as the game was over, I said, "I gotta go." I gathered my stuff and Kansas didn't ask me to stay or offer to walk out with me. I was gone in five minutes.

The sad thing is that I went back on Friday. I walk into the bar and see all of Kansas's buddies. Good guys. Friendly guys. Most of them remember me and I'm happy to see them and talk. Kansas is no where to be seen and I feel foolish. Carolina is walking away with the game and I decide to go home. I'm talking to Kansas's best buddy and I say, "I have to go home."

He says, "You don't have to."

I say, "I have to."

He says, "I don't want to overstep. But I know what you're thinking: Kansas is coming soon and you don't want to see him. Don't worry, he's not coming out tonight."

I smiled (ruefully, of course) and said, "I just saw him yesterday."

"Oh."

"Anyway, if anything, he should be avoiding me. I don't care." (Liar!)

"Ok, well, you don't have to go home then."

I said, "I have to go." I bummed a cigarette and walked home. I thought, "I should really thank Kansas for keeping me from making an even bigger fool of myself." And, "If his buddy only knew that I was there looking for Kansas. What would he think of me?"

Fuck it. I'm going to Paris.

Grateful for: soft landings.

Looking up

Things are looking up. My gloomy mood has lifted and I'm feeling fine. Thanks for all the kind, encouraging comments on the last post. It helped.

Some good news: jury duty selection is scheduled for Monday. Doesn't mean I'll serve, but it's a day off from work, full pay and a chance of being on a jury. I'm excited! My plan is to bring a book and knitting, not the computer, so I may not post for a couple of days.

The date with Jumper on Friday was ok and a little amusing. I also think it was our last. I found myself almost completely uninterested in having a conversation with him. How lame am I? We had some dinner and then went for a drink. At the bar, we stood around and he told me a random story about an old girlfriend. Normally, I would have a story to answer with, but not this time. I smiled, asked questions and laughed where appropriate, but that was it. We found some seats, he had a second beer, I nursed my first, and watched the tourney. I got pretty into the games, which will happen. Jumper tried a variety of conversational gambits, "I think Cake [the band] is really underrated." "Did you have a good Halloween costume last year?" "Are you a PC person or a Mac person?" There was also a running commentary on the music being played at the bar, which I found particularly inane. I don't care what your favorite band is (as long as it's not Dave Matthews--in which case, I REALLY don't want to know). I was a music snob for a lot of years, and I still sort of am, but I'm not very interested in that conversation anymore. Or maybe I just wasn't interested in any conversation with Jumper. After the Virginia Tech game (awesome!), he turned to me and said, "Are you ready?" I said yes and we left. Out on the sidewalk, I said, "I'm kind of tired. I think I'm going to head home."

He said, "Sure, sure. Cool."

He gave me a hug at the bus stop and that was that. Will I hear from him again? I doubt it. Actually, it would be worse if I did, but I'll deal with that if it comes to it.

Of course, I did hear from Kansas on Friday. We had rather less than the typical amount of email. He's managed to get himself tied up in knots about the stupid basketball tournament. Yes, I care. Yes, I'll be said if the Heels lose. But it don't stress about it between games, only while actually watching the game. Dude needs to chill. I saw him very briefly on Saturday and I might see him tomorrow to watch the Kansas game, but it's hardly a date. If I have something I prefer to do, which could include seeing a movie, reading or knitting, I will. But if I want to see Kansas, I'll do that, and I'm not going to worry about it.

Last good news: Carolina wins again! They had me scared for a while, but they finished strong. Go Heels!

Grateful for: a good mood.

So happy

If you haven't read this week or the damn feed is broken again, I posted twice yesterday but back-dated one entry. You may have missed something very exciting--if you find reviews of tv shows or stories about knitting exciting. I should have added in the post about knitting that this WON'T ever be a knitting blog. There are many very good ones out there and if I ever manage to knit so much as a scarf that will be a cold day...so we'll stick with dating for the foreseeable future.

Last night, I went to what I think of as the "other" blogger happy hour. Open to bloggers and non-bloggers alike, this group is less formal than the meetup group. The social chair for a long time was Kathryn, but she passed the baton to I-66 and this month there were some new hosts: Kassy, ArJewTino, VK, and Roosh.

I attended with some ambivalence. The venue was The Front Page, a place I've avoided consistently for the last many years because my crazy alcoholic ex-boyfriend worked there. When I arrived, I entered with some trepidation. However, no crazy alcoholic ex was spotted, so crisis averted.

However, I still hate The Front Page. It was loud, crowded and filled with stripedy-shirt wearing, over-cologned young men and wrap-dress wearing, dangerous handbag wielding young women. And did I mention that it was loud?

I ran in to ArJew outside the front door and we eventually discovered the other bloggers. Can't speak to turnout since I planted myself by a rail and stayed there the rest of the evening--let them come to me, I say. I also did not pay for a single drink, first thanks to ArJew (thanks!) and later thanks to Good at Drinking and his non-blogger friend, Scott (thanks!).

Kassy was a fine hostess and introduced me to a few familiar names (if not faces)...Freckled K, Good at Drinking and a few more whose names now escape me.

Oh, and this one guy who commented on my rowing posts introduced himself--Jessie, I believe. He coaches rowing and we had a good talk. That was very cool. He said, "She's the rower, I have to meet her!" It's nice to be known for something other than dating.

A fellow standing near the jukebox on the other side of a pole from me said, "Are you a friend of Kassy's?"

I said, "I guess so. I mean, I've met her a couple of times."

"Are you a blogger?"

"Oh. Yes. You?"

He said yes and I could swear he called himself "Ribit," but it really seemed unlikely. Perhaps Kristin knows because I saw her talking to him later. She took up a spot next to me, against the same rail. Even though we didn't talk much, it felt like solidarity.

My conversation with VK consisted of him telling me Dook would go further in the tourney than Carolina. That's just sad. I'll tell you what Carolina has that Dook doesn't: a bench deeper than any other team in the ACC. It will serve them well come tourney time.

Also, much to my frustration, they didn't put on the Carolina-GA Tech game.

Around then, I decided it was time to go home. LMNtal informs me I missed the good dancing. Isn't that always the way? I have no regrets, however, because I got a full night's sleep, which is essential if I'm ever going to get any work done today.

Grateful for: getting out.

A plan comes together...kinda

Last night, I had a plan. I was to meet Pele at "the bar" to watch the UNC-Duke women play. Even if Kansas (the man in question) was not there, we'd still enjoy watching the game.

I walked to the bar from work and got a message from Pele saying she was running a little late. Fine.

I got to the bar, walked in, spotted Kansas, turned around and walked out.

I stood outside the bar, in the freezing cold, and called Pele. She answered, "Oh, hey, did you get my message? I'm running late but I thought it would be better if you got there first anyway..."

"Yeah. I did get there. I saw him and I left."

"You...what? You left?"

"Yep." I said.

"That's uh, that's...I thought it would be better if you were there alone."

"I know, it's pretty funny." We both laughed. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

Pele said, "I'll be there as soon as a I can."

"I'm going back in. I have to go back in. I didn't think he'd actually be there."

"You can wait if you want..."

"No, I'll be inside. See you soon." I'd walked away from the bar and I turned and walked back. One of the guys I'd met on Saturday was out front, smoking. He saw me and said, "Hey, J! How are you? Remember me?" We chatted while he finished his cigarette and stood there talking after he was done.

I said, "Hey, can we go inside now? I'm cold!" He held the door for me and we went to the corner of the bar where he and his buddies congregate. He motioned to Kansas and said, "You remember my buddy, Kansas, right?" Sure, I remember him.

When Kansas saw me, he smiled and said, "What'll you have?" I told him and he ordered me a beer. I asked him, "Do they have ESPN2 here?" He asked why, and even though he made fun of me, he got the bartender to put on the station, "Only for you!" No one else complained.

Pele showed up and I introduced her around. She could tell which one was Kansas before I introduced them.

If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought I was on a date with Kansas or, at the very least, that we'd planned to meet that night. It was mighty strange.

The clearest sign, beyond buying me a beer (and a diet coke later on), was that he wouldn't leave while I was still there. Pele and I clearly planned to stay until the end of the game. Kansas said, "How much longer is this game going on?"

I said, "Um, there's ten minutes on the clock...so something longer than that."

"Ok. It seems like it's taking forever. I'm going next door...but I'll wait until it's over."

I didn't know what to make of that. He wanted to go but he couldn't...because I was there? Huh? Did I miss something? Did he ask me to come out and fear abandoning me? I don't think so. I wondered, am I supposed to go with him, next door, when he leaves? He didn't invite me, but I felt I could have joined him if I wanted to.

When game ended (we lost), Pele said, "I'm driving--and I'm taking her with me if she's ready."

No one said anything, but I had my coat on and went to stand by Pele. I waved goodbye to Kansas and that was the night.

I can't explain what the hell happened. When I like someone and I can tell it's reciprocated, I don't sit around at a bar all night hoping he shows up. Especially not when I have his number. But maybe that's just me.

However, Pele had some insight, "He clearly likes you. Clearly. But he has 'unavailable' written all over him. I say you can go back to see the game on Saturday, flirt with him, but then don't go to the bar again for at least a couple of weeks."

I have no expectation that he'll ever call. I don't feel bad about it, just puzzled and a little flattered.

And I have a plan for Saturday. Go Heels!

Grateful for: harmless flirtation.

Drop me a line.

Shall we over analyze?

We all know that "Kansas," the fellow I met at the bar on Saturday, is not worth any more serious discussion (no, he hasn't called). But, heck, I'm not dating, my eyes are fine and I'm having fun talking about it, so let's continue.

Here's part of the problem: when I meet a guy I like I want to get started right away. Let's talk on the phone for hours! Let's exchange flirty emails all day! Let's have a date tonight! That's how I roll--impetuously, intensely, enthusiastically. I rarely just relax, wait patiently and let him come to me.

For example, did you know there is a BIG game tonight? Carolina vs. Duke. I would like to see the game but it's on cable and...I don't have cable. If I want to see the game, I have to go out. So, um, maybe I could go to the bar where I met Kansas and watch the game?

Is that a good idea? I'm not sure, actually. If he is there, maybe he won't even remember me (admittedly, unlikely). Given that I'm not dating (snicker), what difference does it make? As places to see the game go, it's just as inconvenient as any other, so not a completely unreasonable choice. Ah, sweet rationalization, how I adore thee.

Anyway. I told the story of meeting Kansas to (work friend) Nancy. She said, "If you want to hang out drinking at the bar and maybe make-out, call him. Just don't expect more than that."

She's exactly right and this is exactly why I don't want to call him. My expectations are much too high. When I met him, I thought, "he could be my next boyfriend!" So what if I was drunk at the time? I remember everything, always, and I will remember how I felt that night. If I call him, I'll be trying to fit him into some plan of mine. Heck, I might even succeed for a while. It's happened before.

But I don't want to do that. I don't even want to date (ha ha ha ha!). Somehow, running into him at the bar seems less meaningful than calling. It's not a plan, just another random meeting (if it happens). If it doesn't happen, then I'm there to watch the game.

Given how ridiculously cold it is, I'm probably not going anywhere after I get home tonight. But I'll leave myself the option. What harm can it do? Worst case is I watch the game and that's something I want to do anyway.

A more important question is, can I find a place to watch the Carolina women (#2) play Duke (#1) on Thursday? It's on ESPN2 and I don't know if most places carry that station.

I should probably just get cable.

UPDATE: Tonight's game is on network tv so I'll stay home and watch it. Pele and I will venture out tomorrow night and hope the women's game is playing at the bar in question. A resonable solution, I think.

Grateful for: college basketball.

Drop me a line.