Sometimes It's Not You

This week a friend of mine shared this article about dating with me, and as I read it, I felt myself thinking “this might as well be written about my life.” Ok so I’m not in my late thirties… and it hasn’t been eight years since I have  been in a relationship (though sometimes it feels that way) but all in all, I felt as though this woman was describing every single thought and emotion that I have about my current dating situation. It was remarkably refreshing to be reminded of the fact that I am not alone on this sometimes treacherous path of adult dating.

I repeatedly found myself saying out loud “I know!” as I was reading her words… I often worry if the fact that I have never been in a relationship longer than 5 months is going to somehow label me as “unsuccessful” at having a long term relationship, and I constantly struggle with the balance between feeling like I love my life, and worrying that my existing life is too full to let anyone else into. And I too often feel like I have a majority of my life sort of in order, but when it comes to my dating status I am a little insecure at times. I start thinking “is it me?” I start to second guess my awkwardness, my short hair (flashing back to high school when my brother told me I would never have a boyfriend if I didn’t grow out my hair… then again, I didn’t have a boyfriend when I had long hair either). After reading this article I am reminded that all women go through a stage of feeling like “maybe if I liked myself more” or “maybe if I liked my life more” or “maybe I like my life the way it is TOO much” or countless other reasons. Can I blame my single status on the fact that I was home-schooled so I never went to Jr High dances? Or maybe it really is the hair? Am I too shy? Too Assertive? Too indecisive? (I don’t actually wonder all of these things in my life right now… but I think as women, these thoughts tend to pop into our heads a lot).

I am not miserable with my single status or with my life thus far. But lately I have been feeling like I am in need of a person to share my life with. Not on like a crazy “I want to be married” scale, but more to the point of “I’d like to come home at the end of the day, and pour a glass of wine and make dinner with someone and unwind” kind of way. I’d like to have someone to see a movie with besides a bag of licorice, and a reason to wear some of the lingerie that is taking up space in my armoire. I would like to be someone’s person… But apparently I am looking in all the wrong places, and trying to meet all the wrong people… or it just isn’t my time.

Over the past year, I have spent a lot of time really figuring out who I am, and what I want with my life. And earlier in the year I pretty much decided that 26 was going to be my year. (I decided this back in June, when the Red Sox were looking good… and it seemed fathomable that if my team was on top anything was possible).  And so I started going after things… I made a few changes in my work life, I started my own business, I booked vacations, I moved, I painted, I planted, I bought a bulldog. I started loving my life… and yes, all of these things do make my life more complete… but the more I settle into my job, my environment, and my life, the more I wish that I had another person to share it with. When I am being a rockstar at my job, I was to share that with someone, and when I have a breakdown in my office because my boss forgot to thank me for helping put on an event after being at the office for 15 hours, I want to vent to someone. And I want someone to be there in the morning to let the dog out when I need to push the snooze a 3^rd time, and I want someone to be there to sympathize when I have to interact with my ex-boyfriend every day this week for work stuff. I want someone to be there to cheer me up with the Red Sox lose the wildcard slot by half a game… and I’d like someone to be there so I’m not constantly feeling like the 3^rd, 5^th, or millionth wheel among my sea of happily tied down friends. I want someone who loves my bulldog, and who is willing to get take out and come hang out after a long day of work. I want a person in my life. And after all the self-reflection, and going after things, and figuring out what I want… its hard to know that after attaining all these great things, and living the life I want, I cannot seem to do anything about finding someone to share it with. 

I am still skeptical of online dating. I know there are tons of people out there who swear by it, and I know a ton of people who have met their husbands online… that being said, I am just not there. It sort of feels like the people who are trying to genetically perfect their unborn children, handpicking eye color, and genetically dominant traits… The idea of typing what I’m looking for into a data-base, and letting a computer generate potential dates seems too strange to me. Though I’m sure it eliminates some of the awkward first date questions… but doesn’t that also seem weird? Like you can just completely avoid entire subjects with people, because you already know the answer! Isn’t it bad enough that we can already facebook stalk potential dates… and before even meeting we can know what movies they like, their basic interests etc. Maybe I am so indifferent to on-line dating because I am still open to the possibility of being surprised by someone, or what I am looking for in someone.

Then again… dating as an adult can be a little tricky, and as most things in your adult life, it doesn’t come with instructions or rules. And I can honestly say that 95% of my close friends who are in a relationship right now, met that person when they were in college… and quite frankly dating someone in college is not the same. You have common friends, common classes, common schedules, and it is incredibly easy to begin to hang out with a person, develop feelings, and have it turn into more when you are in that sort of environment. An innocent study session turns into a flirtation etc… but those of us who are dating in the “real world” often don’t have that luxury. Yes, I have started to crush on my fair share of barista’s… but a 2 minute morning coffee interaction has its limitations.

And this is where it gets tricky, if not impossible for the possibility of blind dates. To some degree, I think we are all used to cultivating feelings for someone. Weather that is admiring someone from afar, or just hanging out with a person enough until you realize that there is a spark… and then you start to pursue a romance. To some degree I think we are all groomed to function like this, or at least to sort of expect that first comes the spark, and then comes everything else. So already with blind dating the deck is stacked against you. In theory both parties are open to the idea of something being there… and are looking for something. But you have to establish a comfort zone, you have to work at making a connection, you have to actually take the time to cultivate something… and so many of us are used to that pre-established chemistry that is seems like people aren’t always willing to put in the extra time. Which is really unfortunate, because sometimes circumstances don’t always allow for you to be pre-disposed to feelings. 

I am of course guilty of this. A few months ago I was hanging out with some friends, and there was this really nice, really cute guy who came out with us. We talked most of the night, and he bought me a few drinks, but at a certain point I mentally checked out of the conversation, and was totally pre-occupied with this other guy, who I had been sort of flirting with earlier in the day. I was tired from a long day at work, and trying to keep up with a conversation just seemed like a lot of effort, and after all I was totally into this other guy. Complete missed opportunity on my part. Hind sight…

I recently went on a few dates with a guy, that I thought went pretty well. No, I wasn’t feeling any overwhelming magic… but then again, I hung out with him 3 times. I wasn’t even to the point where I knew what sort of food he liked or what his middle name was. I knew very little about him, and we hung out so sporadically, that there was always a little bit of an adjustment period when we were hanging out. That being said, my interest was peaked enough to at least be open to the idea of something developing, or at least I was willing to put in a little more time. He was not. Though he claimed there was physical chemistry, and intellectual chemistry… that mystery “it” factor was somehow missing. And really, I guess I cannot second guess how people feel, and sometimes you just know instantly… (or so they say) but I honestly felt like I didn’t know him well enough to determine if there was something there or not… and to some degree I wish the same extension would have been granted to me. How do you know if someone is worth getting to know if you don’t take the time to get to know them? How can you make a judgment about pursuing a romantic relationship with someone when you don’t even know their quirks and personality? If you are holding out for that amazing trifecta of physical, mental, and emotional chemistry (if there is really such a thing) how many great relationships are you going to pass up along the way? I mean 2 out of 3, with the potential to cultivate the 3^rd seems like pretty good odds to me… then again, maybe he just said the stuff about the physical and intellectual chemistry so I wouldn’t feel bad… I don’t know. I guess I probably never will. In my mind, common musical interest, similar habits, and sexual chemistry should get you at least 4 dates… and giving up before you even know what sort of food someone likes, or what kind of books they read seems unfair… although I guess if you aren’t even remotely interested in getting to know a person on that level, maybe it is fair.

But isn’t the whole point in dating someone, getting to know them? Maybe I have unrealistic expectations about dating.  Since most of my friends are in long-term relationships pre-dating our real world experiences, most of my dating norms come from sitcoms… (sad, but true, but also addressed in the article) and my token male friend, who is constantly coaching me on how to not fuck up while casually dating. (his advice is sort of working). Perhaps the sitcoms have put an unrealistic notion of relationships in my mind… but I don’t think so. My mind is open to possibilities… and my only real requirement is that the guy take some initiative. I want someone who takes time to be present with me, and actively interested…is that unrealistic? I hope not.  In the meantime, I am trying to keep an open mind, and just remember that overall my timing has always been a little unique.

I’m starting to ramble… I’ve been toying around with this topic for a few days in my head… it felt more succinct and organized as I was mentally writing it over dinner… I guess that means it’s time for a glass of wine and time to remember that sometimes it’s not me, or the math.

Tomatoes are a great metaphore for dating

Over the past few weeks I’ve been thinking a lot about re-bounding. Not in the basketball sense, but in the dating kind. Mostly it has been on my mind, because a friend of mine mentioned in passing that as adults in the dating world, essentially everyone we meet/ date is on the rebound.  Could this really be true? I mean in some sense or another, I guess all of us who are out there and looking, are doing exactly that because we are not with someone else… it hasn’t worked out for us at some point… but I don’t think that automatically makes every viable date, a person on the rebound (I don’t consider myself to be on the re-bound…) I guess it depends on your definition.

My friend suggested that being on the re-bound was more a constant state of comparing and contrasting past relationships, and looking/ hoping for something better. (this was a guy friend, by the way)  Personally, I thought this was sort of the cotton candy, rose tinted, the glass is half full, optimistic view of the world approach. The very word rebound means to spring back, or recoil… almost the exact opposite of moving forward with hopeless abandon…

I’ve always viewed re-bounding as a way to channel your energy from a past relationship. All that energy, all those thoughts, all that time and effort that was once devoted to a relationship is suddenly just a stagnate cloud, post breakup, and for me at least, the rebound is a way to re-direct… a new obsession, a new channel, a new distraction. A palate cleanser, if you will…  I think Elizabeth Gilbert describes it really well in Eat, Pray, Love when she says “I dove out of my marriage and into David’s arms exactly the same way a cartoon circus performer dives off a high platform and into a small cut of water, vanishing completely. I clung to David for escape form marriage as if he were the last helicopter pulling out of Saigon. I inflicted upon him my every hope for my salvation and happiness.”( Eat, Pray, Love, pg 18) Ok so this is maybe a little extreme… but it really seems to capture the diversionary view of being on the re-bound. But to some extent I also think that being on the rebound is a little bit of that optimistic note… of at least being open to the idea of someone else. 

That being said… I know there are various definitions, and various situations. I know several people who are in long term, committed relationships with the re-bound guy…. People who have married the re-bound guy… (good for them I say!) and of course I love to cling to the ever present notion that love will happen when you are least expecting it… IE sometimes just out of a relationship when your emotions are still so raw and you are trying to climb out of the aftermath. I’m not saying I’ve experienced that, but I believe it can happen.  

Of course you could also end up in that murky place where you completely close yourself off, and you make yourself unavailable emotionally… The walls go up, the armor goes on… and hell, we’ve all been there… stuck in the wallowing (let’s face it… sometimes we don’t want to get over it) but then we also run the risk of completely missing out on something great… even if the timing isn’t.  I’m not applying this is any specific situations or instances… but I was thinking along these lines as I was out harvesting my garden earlier this evening.  I have these sun-gold tomatoes that are pretty much taking over my world right now. I’ve sort of let them go, and they are rambling and overwhelming most of the other large plants in my garden right now. I pick a few as I water, but the idea of them was sort of overwhelming…. Until tonight I finally had some dedicated garden time, and I went out for a serious harvest. And underneath the rambling sun-golds I found two black krim tomatoes, and twenty green zebras. This is the part where I make a cheesy garden metaphor and compare dating and rebounding to tomatoes… get ready.  But really, I was so overwhelmed by the sun-golds… they were pretty much consuming everything, and then when I actually stopped to weed through them, I was pleasantly surprised by what I found.  I think dating is a lot like that… Once you weed through all the pre-existing emotional baggage that we all carry around, I think it is really easy to be pleasantly surprised by what you weren’t expecting to find. Sassy, striped, chartreuse tomatoes.

I don’t really know where I’m going with this… maybe we really are all just rambling around on the re-bound. Or maybe we are all just optimistic… or maybe we are all just naive. Maybe we are all just floating around in a state between “looking for a distraction” and “looking for someone”… and in every situation you kind of have to hope that you end up being the “someone”, and not just the distraction. But I’m hoping that in any situation, I get to be the sassy, unexpected tomato.

Clearly I need to wear red more often

Lately I’ve been sort of slacking on my fashion… It happens when you get to wear yoga pants to work twice a week… But it became rather apparent to me exactly how slacking, when I threw on a casual dress for a work event on Wednesday, and every single person on staff made a comment. “Wow you look really nice today” “Oh I LOVE that dress” “Red is definitely your color” … clearly my wardrobe slacking has been apparent to everyone but myself… But it was a good reminder that when you dress the part, good things happen… so it should have been of no surprise that while wear said dress, I was offered a chance to become a mistress and move to Argentina…

I blame it on my Project Runway obsession mixed with my real world practicality. I love getting dressed up for things, but sometimes the added work just means more laundry. So I decided to throw on something in the morning that I could easily wear later that evening on a date. Gotta love the outfits that are both work and date appropriate. It was just a simple shirt dress, perfect for summer, and great into fall. Nothing fancy, no bells, no whistles, but the punch of color mixed with the casual feel give the dress just the right mix of everyday and showstopper. (it really is a fabulous dress, and it was fabulously inexpensive. Thank you H&M)

I really should have put out a tip jar or something, because the second I was introduced for the wine tasting, I was met with a roomful of applause (not something that typically happens during my work day). Yes, there was a huge language barrier… but applause and whispers of “red dress” translate fairly well. I had no idea I was going to be pouring wine for a room full of male, Argentinean, Chain saw sales men… and in the end I like to think it was my sparkling personality that impressed them more than the red dress… but I’m not holding my breath.

the red shirt dress in question...

When my dad was in middle school the girls were not allowed to wear red because the administration thought the boys wouldn’t be able to control themselves… not even kidding. Though normally,  I like to think that idea is a little archaic, the whispers of “red dress” were filling the room… so I put on a smile, and muddled my way through a conversation with non-existent Spanish skills, and their broken English. I stopped to pour a glass of wine, and immediately everyone at the table was asking what my tattoo said. I never think to cover it up, as it doesn’t bother anyone at work, and I seldom think people are looking at my feet anyway, but apparently it was rather intriguing to this group. So there I was, two bottles of wine in hand, trying to explain to them the meaning of “Tell me what it is you plan to do with your one wild and precious life.” I’m not entirely sure they understood, but as they seemed to try to piece the meaning together one of them said “our life wish is to get you to come home with us to Argentina”

A few moments later I was being introduced to Tito, who according to his friends, is a “very important man in Argentina” I smiled, and continued to pour the wine. It would have never worked. I don’t speak an ounce of Spanish, and he was old enough to be my father. Though I spent a few moments imaging the young translator I could have hired, and my life in Argentina… Tayler, Tito, and Toby. I’m kidding. But the whole experience did solidify that I was wearing the exact right dress for that evening.

Clearly I need to wear red more often…

Coming home to September

I sometimes hesitate to post poems to my blog... worried my work will somehow not stay my own. But it also seems a shame not to share it... especially since the last few days have had that moody fall quality to them... 

Coming home to September

My garden has tomatoes for days

the season of last,

lingering.

The daylight hours, not.

I close my eyes, and the warmth still feels like summer… memories of August.

remnants of red leaves are scatted on my porch, 

like a secret between me and Fall.

“I’m coming”

I browse the neighborhood, which is still holding verdant,

as the seasons days begin to dwindle

and I wonder where they started their journey.

I am finishing my own… at least for today,

As I come home to September.

effortless summer dinner

I love this time of year. There is the potential for fall, for change, but the days are still hot and longish feeling, and the food is still fresh and seasonal. I love that an entire meal can be inspired by a single tomato (heck it could almost be the entire meal) and that this time of year the ingredients can me minimal and simple to produce the best tasting things. Simplicity.

Last night I harvested a basket of sungold tomatoes (as I do almost every day… they are taking over my life and my garden) I threw several handfuls into a large skillet with a drizzling of olive oil, a bit of sel gris, and a few bits of savory and let them simmer. A bit of pasta, some basil leaves, and mozzarella cheese, all thrown together in a bowl and sprinkled with salt. It doesn’t get much simpler, or much better. Hot fresh ingredients, not over-powered by a bunch of foof and flashy presentation, just pure flavor.

It’s the type of meal best consumed on the front porch, with a mason jar full of (insert beverage of your choice here), and some good company or a good book.