Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Same old

Why haven't I written: because things are going well. Or relatively well and I feel odd about getting back to the regular swing of things when people in my family are going to be a long time getting there. I don't want to sound flip or frivolous...and I know that's not my style, but I still worry (which is my style).

The last few days have been a bit of a roller coaster emotionally, due to both the family stuff and boy stuff. The boy stuff is more of the kiddie-coaster variety, though, and overall, I'm enjoying myself.

I was feeling bad because I thought I had plans with the fellow I'm spending time with (let's give him a name, shall we?), A. We saw each other on Tuesday for coffee and made tentative plans for Wednesday. I also had a tentative plan on Wednesday to meet my conversation buddy. In the early afternoon I called A. to find out when he wanted to meet--he hemmed and hawed and finally said he had a new project at work and didn't know when he'd be free. This led to almost complete silence on my part. I wasn't angry, just disappointed. Eventually, he asked if we could get together on Thursday and said he would call.

I went about my business and met my conversation buddy on Wednesday. On Thursday, I planned a full day and kept myself busy. A. didn't call. I felt bad. Not crushed, exactly, just a little heavy with the sadness. In my mind, I was sure that was it, I wasn't going to hear from him again (Pele told me I was wrong). Easy enough, he'd said he would call, he didn't, and I wasn't going to call him. I hate the idea of pressing myself, pushing, and I wasn't going to act that way. Whatever is going on is of the not-too-serious variety, so there is no need for explanations and I had no stomach for demanding them. I told myself, whatever it is, it's about him, not me. I was also pretty sure it was work. If he just got a new project on Wednesday, how would be done on Thursday?

I fully expected to wake up on Friday feeling 100% better and not sad at all. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. I was dragging a bit, feeling tired and lazy. I decided to get myself a real lunch, and it was decent. I made plans for Saturday with my American friend. I confirmed with myself my intention of meeting a group for an open-air movie in the evening. I sent a long email to Pele. Then he called.

What? I didn't really get it, weren't we done? Oh, no. He invited me for coffee right then--he needed a break from work. I agreed, but he noticed my lack of enthusiasm. I said, "You didn't call." I got a non-apology and then an actual apology and then I went to see him. I brought my blanket and snacks, fully intending to go to the open-air movie after leaving him. I was pretty sure I wanted to have a talk with him about this not calling business. It's always the waiting that kills me. Eventually, I did say something and he clearly felt bad and sincerely apologized. I suppose this means we won't make too many advance plans, but I tell you, that is much easier to deal with than waiting around for calls and being disappointed by canceled plans. (Am I settling? I suppose.)

After a couple of hours together, I went along to my movie. It was freezing! But I stayed for the first show and then toddled on home.

On Saturday, I took a long walk and met my friend for the movies. We sat a café for a long time afterwards and talked, ate and drank. How nice to actually talk to someone in person about everything going on with me. She's great and was very patient with me. Don't worry, I did let her do some talking.

Interestingly, while we were in the movies, I got a message from my old French teacher. Remember her? I called her back on Sunday and we went to the movies that night! Now I'm sure I'll see her again too. While it's a bit of a challenge hanging out with her (I keep up a dialogue in my broken French), she's very sweet. I'm so happy she called. I'd just been thinking about her.

On Sunday morning, I called A. I caught him just as he was waking up. He had maybe an hour to spend before he had to go to work (darn work!), but I declined. It was a good thing I ended up with other plans that evening, or I might have stayed home all day. My lethargy was high this weekend.

Monday, I got this idea about going to the big flea market north of the city. So I went. I got a slow start, but I was out of the house by 10:30am. The market was semi-open--maybe about half the stalls. I got a sense of it and there were no crowds, so that worked. I also planned to take a long walk back into the center and stop by a yarn store. I'm working on this little shrug/sweater and I'm afraid I'm going to run out of yarn before I finish. I probably can't match the yarn I'm using, but I could use something complementary for the finishing trim.

I walked and walked and before long, I stopped for coffee. I ordered my usual, a "café noisette." Somehow this was translated to a "café" and a "noisette". Seriously, the lady came to my table holding two cups of coffee. The astonished look on my face informed her of the mistake, though she admitted no error. In the end, she gave me the noisette and took the other cup away. Yeesh. When a man at the bar blew a kiss at me, I knew it was time to leave.

I walked some more and found an open bakery and bought a sandwich. Then I found a park and sat and ate my enormous sandwich and drank a diet coke. I read my book and watch a couple of kids playing, a couple canoodling and a few other adults lunching.

I continued my walk, which led me past Sacre Coeur and towards the yarn store. The first place I went into had a lot of yarn, but none of the same weight as my work-in-progress. I'd brought a sample with me and when the proprietress asked me what I wanted, I showed it to her and asked if she had anything similar. She said, "non." And that was it!

I continued along and noticed another store almost across the street with all kinds of crafty stuff. I stopped in and found loads of yarn. I chose something that didn't quite match, but bought it anyway, just in case.

I decided to keep walking even though I was starting to get a little tired. Not too much to my surprise, I found myself approaching A.'s neighborhood. I had to decide if I would call him. I couldn't decide. I texted Pele. I talked myself through it. I reminded myself of something Nancy told me long ago about another boy, "you have to give him a chance to call." Finally, when I was merely blocks from A.'s place, I started to feel like a stalker. That made it easy to decide to get on the Metro and go home.

And guess what? That very evening, A. called and asked if I wanted to get together. It's crazy, but I was still surprised.

We did get together, but only for a couple of hours because he had to work through the night. (He's a freelancer and works when there's work--and there's a lot right now.) We didn't make plans. Did I want to? Sort of, but it's best to keep expectations low, especially since he doesn't know his schedule and I'm not good at weathering any kind of disappointment. Plus, I am flexible and can see him whenever. I also want to pat myself on the back for keeping busy (more or less) and not putting the rest of my life on hold while I wait for a man. I don't want to say I'm sure I'll see him again, but I'm sure enough. I don't know how long I can sustain this kind of relationship without wanting more or getting frustrated, but if I’m unhappy, I'll talk to him or I'll get out, which ever seems appropriate.

And today, the plan? Well, I will to do some laundry (I spilled coffee on the cotton throw rug that came with the apartment and my spot treatment was only partially successful), go to the movies and do some writing (that's right now!). The other writing, I have been thinking a lot about it and writing in my notebook. I'm trying to get a handle on what kind of story I want to tell. I'd started with a romantic story, but dredging up some of those old feelings was painful. The writing is supposed to be a pleasure, so I tried to think about the stories I really like to tell. It's funny how some stories are more fun to tell than to write. It occurred to me that I've never written any of the stories I tell about my childhood, so I thought I might start there. I'm still thinking and haven't started, but it's something.

I also have the addresses for the condolence letters I need to send. Time to get those into final draft. Sigh.

Grateful for: new friends.

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