playing with your words, a girl and two headlights, blinders on the interstate… we want the good life.
ok, so about 9months ago, on a rainy saturday afternoon my friend did something silly. after bullying me about joining match.com, and me refusing (no judgement just this, and this and this prove it’s not for me) repeatedly, he signed me up.
he created an account, filled out the profile with his best ‘me’ impersonation, included the requisites (ice cream, love love love, bike rides, parks, place pigalle, astrology, and laughing), uploaded photos from fb and that was that.
then he told me to go on it. that i’d like it. i’d get hooked. i was skeptical. and played around for a few days, logging in to see who looked at my profile. but after a while (read: two weeks tops) it just didn’t feel right. i wasn’t responding to any of the emails. because, well a) i hate formal dates, and b) i wasn’t interested in any of the guys. something like 35 emails, and none of them seemed right. and then i started to get down on myself. and blah blah blah remembered why i don’t do online dating in the first place.
i hate dating. in it’s formal and totally awkward sense. because, well, i have absolutely no idea how to act, and i focus entirely on making sure that everything is good for the other person, and i have extreme weird issues with the rules of a date like paying and making plans, and then um the goodbye. dear lord. it is all so whacky that i become some crazy cuke that looks like steph, sounds like steph, but is absolutely NOT steph. so WHY would i do all of that when the person i’m on some sort of set up date with would not even get to experience me?
also, i’m a sucker for words. i obsess. can’t get enough. so really, it’s totally crazy for me to be reading 75 perfectly crafted paragraphs written by you telling me all about you. because i like stories, and writing, and words, and meaning. so i’m all outta whack with my ‘into you’ radar right off the bat. it’s like excitement transferral. i mean, let’s just say it how it is. most likely i don’t like you (sorry, it’s just rare that i like people, trust me, it’s worse for me, a curse in fact), but i like the fact that i am reading antagonizingly written prose. carefully crafted words.
so yea. for all of those reasons, i completely forgot all about match.com and my friend’s little experiment. until a few days ago.
i have no idea what made it pop into my head, but i remembered that silly day in march and logged in the account (that’s name is totally NOT wholesomemidwesterngirl sounding, ps.). Read the rest of this entry »
young hearts spark fire, all night. oh yea. oh yea.
i have a crush.
i don’t know him, really.
but, nonetheless, i hope to see him around.
crushes are weird. they are exciting, they give you hope, they add fun to everyday life. but having been single for so long now, and honestly, not having met many people in that so long that i would want to stop being single with, there is something scary about having a crush. like what if this goes somewhere? what would that mean? (spiral spiral spiral)
and i know it seems extreme that i’m even talking about this, especially because i don’t know said boy, but now is exactly WHEN i think about this stuff. because crushing, in and of itself, is fun. what is not fun is when something happens that is real enough to push that crush onto the 5 yrd line of the possibility zone. because then shit’s on the line. that is where something that is said or done could make or break it. ultimately, that is where rejection becomes factor. that is where a crush moves into a possibility of dating, or going on a date.
it’s kind of nice, actually having a new crush. but the thing is, i don’t know him. and when i think about getting to know him i get all weird and freaked about rejection. and this is all happening before ieven know him. because i meet so few boys that i crush on, the possible rejection that comes from a crush these days oddly holds a higher level of possible affectedness. meaning, that rejection holds more power than if i were meeting smart, handsome, funny boys all over the place every single day. it’s a numbers game. the less chances, the more value each chance acquires. therefore, just the thought of something making this crush move into the possibility zone is mildly paralyzing.
but, um, HELLO i am not going to let a chance at something good pass me by because of fear. that’s for sissy marys. but i am going to blab it all out here to get it out of me and move on.
because i don’t even know him.
but, neither does anyone i know. which is also nice for a change. avoiding the normal incest that comes with dating and my group of friends.
so i have a crush. and randomly thinking about this boy that i don’t know gives me hope that i’m not broken. i do know how to maybe be interested in someone in this city. cause it’s been a long time since that’s happened.
also, i love my neighborhood.
we used to dream, and now we worry about dying. i don’t wanna worry about dying… i just wanna worry about those sunshine [boys].
we’ve been walking sideways, waiting for the cold days. finding strength in numbers, on the ocean floor.
lean mean thirteen.
it’s friday night, and i’m at home. alone. and was loving it. until 20/20 came on with a segment of true honest to goodness crazy old cat ladies. then i started to fall victim to thinking about what i am supposed to be doing because it’s friday. then i turned on music and shut out the ’supposed’ to thoughts.
i’m happy where i am. in bed, with laptop, tv on mute (for company reasons only), indie folk playing, alone, in my studio apartment in sf. the only thing that would make this better, ok, well i guess THAT was the wrong way to start that sentence, as a zillion things entered my head. try again: the one not so ok thing with this moment is my upstairs neighbors that are ruining my life with their hardwood floors, no rugs, three dogs, wooden shoes, constant vacuuming, unnecessarily loud conversations, and 95 people living in a 14×15 ft room. phew, got that out of me.
either way, i’m ok. with life. and right now. in fact, i’m good. and thinking about love.
a girlfriend of mine had a date this week, that she thought went really well. and was waiting for him to text, or call, or contact. and i suggested that maybe she text him. and she said that she’s always the one to contact, and this time she wasn’t going to. and i was right there with her. for quite a while that was me. and we are very similar. so i told her i got it. and then she retweeted something on twitter in response to me, that really really got me thinking. she said @stephdub RT Dating Tip: He who calls more has the most interest and the least control. I can’t say it enough…let HIM call YOU!
and i had some weird sort of view of myself, from what seemed like years ago, but in reality, i don’t know when this girl left. but that tweet made me realize it was for real. my immediate response was enlightening.
you see, i realized that it seems like, in dating, in big cities, as successful smart attractive intelligent people, we have forgotten the real purpose of dating. well, at least what i think a lot of us want the purpose to be. to meet someone with whom we connect.
it has turned into such a game. a game of power, and control, and winning. but that has really just manifested from loneliness, and missed connections, and longing. i want it. i want that someone that i connect with, to be here, with me in sf. she wants it too, to be with her. and so on.
we get so wrapped up work, and life, and success, and winning, that we forget to stress the importance, and allowance of opening up, and making ourselves available for connection. i say we as in society, not her, nor me, individually. we place so much pride and value on success and power, and the way to get that is through rationale and strategy. we have completely devalued, and thereby, disallowed any sort of emotions and feelings, in space where feeling are what are supposed to be leading the way. winning the game.
maybe it’s all this feeling i’ve been letting myself do. maybe it’s a recent reconnection that reminded of its value. maybe it’s seeing someone i care about go through the exact same thing that i am. maybe its longing. maybe its hope. maybe its trust. maybe it desperation. but i want to remember now, the purpose of dating. to meet someone. to connect. to laugh. to share. to support. to enjoy. to embrace.
let’s get back there. together. maybe, yea?
we’re thinking with our brains, we’re living in our veins, we’re swimming in our skin, grinning through our pain. here we go.