SiQ and I had a pleasant date yesterday, but it ended with me thinking that this just wasn't going to fit into my life. SiQ seems pleasant enough, and he has the great good virtue of liking me and being attracted to me, but something's not there. It's not attraction -- he's attractive enough and all that. And it's not good manners, or general niceness. He has both those in abundance.
What I'm trying to describe is his assumption that I want what he wants. And that after knowing him for all of two months, without meeting friends, family, or a community around him -- we're essentially dating in a vacuum containing the two of us -- that I should feel comfortable just taking his word.
Perhaps I'm too cynical, but unless I see howa man reacts with others, and see how they treat long-term friends (and HAVE long-term friends), I assume what I'm seeing is his behavior on an ice floe. It really means very little. Of course he's nice to me right now. He wants to have sex with me. Any man who can't manage to be pleasant to a woman he hopes to boink in the near future really has No self-control. So that's not a real high standard to meet.
So SiQ was showering me with compliments, etc. and proceeding, yesterday, as though there was a specific goal at the end of the afternoon. Which I wasn't opposed to, but . . . I wasn't there yet.
After lunch, he suggests that I invite him home to my place. I said, no, I'm just not ready, and suggested that my next free weekend, we do a lengthy bike ride down near his home and then he make dinner for me (that's pretty obvious, I thought).
So then he explains to me that due to the financial meltdown, he and his ex haven't been able to sell their house, which they still share, so he can't have people over for dinner (he is, indeed divorced -- the court papers are part of the public record, searchable on the Internet).
Then lots of ludicrous or possibly plausible claims came forth: he really is single, but the house is under water. It would just be awkward for him to have women (he really was idiot enough to use the plural of that word in that sentence) at his house; it would make his ex uncomfortable.
Yeah, right. We had one of those wonderful (read: awful) conversations about honesty, monogamy, etc. He again suggested that I invite him to my place.
And here's the thoroughly annoying kicker: rather that be my own intimidating self, and say "Nope and never." I said "I just don't feel comfortable with that right now." Color me spineless. We talked a bit more, and he made statements such as "I really do care about you." and "I would never do anything to hurt you." I want points for not bursting out laughing at the latter statement. Of course he'll never do anything to hurt me. Best of all "We'll get through this." No, best of all, and really bizarre "You know we were meant to meet." Huh?
This morning he sent an email telling me he was looking forward to our new arrangement. I read it in a bit of confusion, trying to figure out what arrangement I had with him. I'm still ignorant.
Generally, I'm amused, my cynicism confirmed, and only slightly sad that I've lost a good hiking and biking companion (I really did enjoy hiking and biking with the SiQ, actually now ex-SiQ). And if he didn't seem so darn delusional about where I stand, I'd continue to plan hikes and bikes with him, but sadly, I fear, those days are over.
If anyone can explain to me what arrangement SiQ thinks he has with me, please do let me know.
May 30, 2010
May 27, 2010
Free Time
Aside from a tentative date with Sicko (and an unscheduled, but definite visit with Innana) I have no real plans this weekend. The girls are with their father, and I have illusions that I will finally get my unpacking done from my move last November.
Free time. It has been so long since I had some time that wasn't all pre-programmed. I'm really looking forward to this.
Free time. It has been so long since I had some time that wasn't all pre-programmed. I'm really looking forward to this.
May 24, 2010
Where the Boys Are
Enough mother-blogging. Back to me, me, me. I have been on a third date with the Swain-In-Question (okay, I'm just gonna call him SIQ or Sicko for short, and yes, that means this relationship is probably doomed, but it would be anyway, so that's not going to stop me) and the fourth date is rapidly approaching.
There seems to be an unwritten guy expectation that on the third date Thou Shalt Get Lucky. Sicko (and I) didn't. And I'm not sure I'm going there on date #4. I like Sicko. He's pleasant and reasonably attractive. I just do the cost benefit analysis and I spend a lot of time analyzing. I don't think "Oh! My! God! I can't wait to jump this dude."
While it would be nice to have a physical partner, all the burdens that go with that just seem like too much. I still need to worry about birth control, even at almost 50. I'm so busy with my daughters that any time spent on my free weekends seems like a time vampire, draining me of energy and resources. And even though everything feels pretty good in the physical compatibility department, the idea of discovering that Sicko didn't get sex ed in France (and thus views the important female parts as foreign and unknowable) just seems like bad news I don't want to know about. Also, Sicko isn't just dating me, and I don't have the energy or time to date others, so there would be a power differential that wouldn't work in my favor, and I don't have the energy for the monogamy/exclusivity conversation that would be necessary at this point.
Add to those reservations that I have been incredibly busy with various offspring related activities, and I almost feel like I should cancel this weekend's biking get together with Sicko. Except I want to check out a new bike trail with my old creaky Huffy (bike brand) with Sicko, who is very pleasant company.
Well, I don't have to make up my mind now.
There seems to be an unwritten guy expectation that on the third date Thou Shalt Get Lucky. Sicko (and I) didn't. And I'm not sure I'm going there on date #4. I like Sicko. He's pleasant and reasonably attractive. I just do the cost benefit analysis and I spend a lot of time analyzing. I don't think "Oh! My! God! I can't wait to jump this dude."
While it would be nice to have a physical partner, all the burdens that go with that just seem like too much. I still need to worry about birth control, even at almost 50. I'm so busy with my daughters that any time spent on my free weekends seems like a time vampire, draining me of energy and resources. And even though everything feels pretty good in the physical compatibility department, the idea of discovering that Sicko didn't get sex ed in France (and thus views the important female parts as foreign and unknowable) just seems like bad news I don't want to know about. Also, Sicko isn't just dating me, and I don't have the energy or time to date others, so there would be a power differential that wouldn't work in my favor, and I don't have the energy for the monogamy/exclusivity conversation that would be necessary at this point.
Add to those reservations that I have been incredibly busy with various offspring related activities, and I almost feel like I should cancel this weekend's biking get together with Sicko. Except I want to check out a new bike trail with my old creaky Huffy (bike brand) with Sicko, who is very pleasant company.
Well, I don't have to make up my mind now.
The Red Balloon (Go and See)
The FoilKids and I went to Adventure Theatre in Glen Echo Maryland to see The Red Balloon, which is playing through June 13.* This was a crazy hectic weekend, and DG had a global thermonuclear meltdown both before and after the show, but aside from my offspring's behavior (which really was the result of extreme exhaustion), the show was a delight.
First off, I checked what the tickets would have cost if I had purchased them: $12 per child, $15 per adult. So it would have cost $39 for the three of us to attend. That's less than we paid this spring to go see How to Train Your Dragon in 3D at the earliest (cheapest) matinee. Second, the show was about an hour long, which was the perfect length for DG (age five). She got fidgety anyway, but that was probably because before the 4 p.m. show, we had gone ice skating, attending a class of TG's, to the library, and something else that I have now forgotten, so she was worn out.
My biggest concern was that TG would be bored, as it seem that this play would be aimed more at DG's demographic than TG's. I was wrong.
My concerns regarding length, enjoyableness for both a ten-year old and a five-year old were completely unnecessary. The show was a delight. The acting was great, the set design was beautiful, and both my girls were delighted. Danny Pushkin and Daniel Mori were truly great as Albert and the balloon's puppeteer. DG was astounded to learn that Josh Sticklin, who played the little boy, Pascal, was actually a grownup (so good job, there). Jessica Aimone, Vishal Vaidya, and Emma Jaster were also very, very good in multiple roles. Most actors played several roles, and the speed of the costume changes was amazing.
My mind drifted a bit during the production, but mainly because I was comparing the production to the 1956 movie (which I last saw in the 1970s, I believe), but the girls were rapt and delighted, particularly with the physical humor and the broom-with-an-attitude showing Albert who was boss, and the personality of the balloon (yup). The ending scene with all the balloons of Paris showing up seemed a bit awkward to me (although I couldn't figure out how to stage it any better), but the girls were just entranced.
We had a great time, and added to that great time was the pre-play ride on the carousel (twice actually) and time spent climbing in the park. I was not very familiar with the park before this, and now I am a fan of Adventure Theatre and Glen Echo Park.
*Full disclosure: I was given comp (free) tickets to the show by Adventure Theatre with the condition that I write a review of the show.
First off, I checked what the tickets would have cost if I had purchased them: $12 per child, $15 per adult. So it would have cost $39 for the three of us to attend. That's less than we paid this spring to go see How to Train Your Dragon in 3D at the earliest (cheapest) matinee. Second, the show was about an hour long, which was the perfect length for DG (age five). She got fidgety anyway, but that was probably because before the 4 p.m. show, we had gone ice skating, attending a class of TG's, to the library, and something else that I have now forgotten, so she was worn out.
My biggest concern was that TG would be bored, as it seem that this play would be aimed more at DG's demographic than TG's. I was wrong.
My concerns regarding length, enjoyableness for both a ten-year old and a five-year old were completely unnecessary. The show was a delight. The acting was great, the set design was beautiful, and both my girls were delighted. Danny Pushkin and Daniel Mori were truly great as Albert and the balloon's puppeteer. DG was astounded to learn that Josh Sticklin, who played the little boy, Pascal, was actually a grownup (so good job, there). Jessica Aimone, Vishal Vaidya, and Emma Jaster were also very, very good in multiple roles. Most actors played several roles, and the speed of the costume changes was amazing.
My mind drifted a bit during the production, but mainly because I was comparing the production to the 1956 movie (which I last saw in the 1970s, I believe), but the girls were rapt and delighted, particularly with the physical humor and the broom-with-an-attitude showing Albert who was boss, and the personality of the balloon (yup). The ending scene with all the balloons of Paris showing up seemed a bit awkward to me (although I couldn't figure out how to stage it any better), but the girls were just entranced.
We had a great time, and added to that great time was the pre-play ride on the carousel (twice actually) and time spent climbing in the park. I was not very familiar with the park before this, and now I am a fan of Adventure Theatre and Glen Echo Park.
*Full disclosure: I was given comp (free) tickets to the show by Adventure Theatre with the condition that I write a review of the show.
May 20, 2010
Pre-Memorial Day Memories
I'm drowning in summer trip and kids' recreation planning, dating (only one guy, but my schedule is kind of busy), birthday celebrations (yup, I'm older), sick TigerGrrl (bad fever, finally gone), big-work-project finishing, skating lessons, karate lessons, being a guinea pig in an interesting medical study, and the general mayhem of none-too-flush single parent life. Yet for the last two days, I've been clicking through this interactive page: the New York Times' Faces of the Dead (the dead in both Afghanistan and Iraq). For some reason, I feel compelled to look at the face of each person and read that person's name, age, and hometown.
I have accomplished nothing by looking at each service-member's face and limited identifying information, but still look. I'm more than three-quarters through the page, somewhere in those who died in 2008. I can't imagine this much heartbreak. If each person has two people who loved and now miss him or her, it's unbearable. I've got nothing, here. Any suggestions welcome.
I have accomplished nothing by looking at each service-member's face and limited identifying information, but still look. I'm more than three-quarters through the page, somewhere in those who died in 2008. I can't imagine this much heartbreak. If each person has two people who loved and now miss him or her, it's unbearable. I've got nothing, here. Any suggestions welcome.
May 2, 2010
Do Right Woman (Do Right Man)
Shockingly, after over a year of no interest on my part, I'm dating again. Or to be more exact, I've had a first date and a surprisingly pleasant second date (first dates are easy). Today.
And this is after a truly craptastic week. A neighbor complained at length about my kids. Up until now, I've had good relations with all of my neighbors, but I have a perpetually cranky person next door to me now who thinks that living in an apartment complex means that neighbors should be absolutely silent. It's not going well. And the neighbor didn't complain to me, but in a passive aggressive note to management. Ugh. I've given the girls a lecture or two about being considerate, but I hear my neighbors playing music, doing whatever, and I assume they can hear me.
Then I broke a crown, and have had some painful and annoying dental work.
Then I realized I had made a fairly large arithmetic error in my checkbook, and have very little money for the next three weeks.
So when I man I had met for coffee a few weeks ago asked if I would go hiking with him, I applied the Car Talk French Car rule to my life.* And it worked. I had a lovely hike with a pleasant man who seemed quite attracted to my middled-aged none-too-slim self. Which is weird, because I just haven't been interested of late, but I wanted to go on the hike, and it turned out to be a lot of fun. It was a middle of the day get together too, which takes the edge off. When the date is due to end at 3, you know no-one's expecting you to fall into bed.
Not that falling into bed is anything bad, with the right person (in Family Life class for Fifth Graders, that's the part where you say: "When a man and woman love each other very much *cough* . . ."). But I'm really not in the place I was in two and three years ago. I don't need the validation, and I expect that we'll maybe have a third date and then things will fizzle (as they most often do in the dating world). If they don't, good.
Yet a reasonably gentlemanly guy who likes hiking and has some basic snogging skills (really, many don't)? Nothing to sneeze at.
*The French Car rule is this: if you have a French car, you have enough misery in your life, so everything else goes well. Your job, your finances, your love life. Thus, my epically disastrous week is equivalent to owning a French Car. Even if the date were dreadfully bad, it would feel good in comparison.
And this is after a truly craptastic week. A neighbor complained at length about my kids. Up until now, I've had good relations with all of my neighbors, but I have a perpetually cranky person next door to me now who thinks that living in an apartment complex means that neighbors should be absolutely silent. It's not going well. And the neighbor didn't complain to me, but in a passive aggressive note to management. Ugh. I've given the girls a lecture or two about being considerate, but I hear my neighbors playing music, doing whatever, and I assume they can hear me.
Then I broke a crown, and have had some painful and annoying dental work.
Then I realized I had made a fairly large arithmetic error in my checkbook, and have very little money for the next three weeks.
So when I man I had met for coffee a few weeks ago asked if I would go hiking with him, I applied the Car Talk French Car rule to my life.* And it worked. I had a lovely hike with a pleasant man who seemed quite attracted to my middled-aged none-too-slim self. Which is weird, because I just haven't been interested of late, but I wanted to go on the hike, and it turned out to be a lot of fun. It was a middle of the day get together too, which takes the edge off. When the date is due to end at 3, you know no-one's expecting you to fall into bed.
Not that falling into bed is anything bad, with the right person (in Family Life class for Fifth Graders, that's the part where you say: "When a man and woman love each other very much *cough* . . ."). But I'm really not in the place I was in two and three years ago. I don't need the validation, and I expect that we'll maybe have a third date and then things will fizzle (as they most often do in the dating world). If they don't, good.
Yet a reasonably gentlemanly guy who likes hiking and has some basic snogging skills (really, many don't)? Nothing to sneeze at.
*The French Car rule is this: if you have a French car, you have enough misery in your life, so everything else goes well. Your job, your finances, your love life. Thus, my epically disastrous week is equivalent to owning a French Car. Even if the date were dreadfully bad, it would feel good in comparison.
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