You're "Such A Good Friend" I Can't Date You

In the last week and a half, or so, I'm 0-for-2 in trying to get my dating interests and intentions reciprocated.  Very often, the reasons I'm given by women declining my interest is that "you're such a nice guy" or "such a good friend".  Well, if that's the problem, ladies, let's put those ugly rumors to bed right now...I ain't all that great! 

Very seriously, though, it would almost be easier to be passed over for a date by a woman who said she didn't wanna go out with me because she thinks I'm a fat, ugly dork, or an egotistical, arrogant asshole.  I mean, really, those are much more straightforward reasons than being "too nice" to be considered dating material.  Who the hell do they think they're kidding?  Skip the double talk, gals.  Give it to me straight.  I'm a big boy.  I CAN handle the truth.

If you're taken, so be it; I don't wanna be a third wheel or a Plan B.  If you're not interested, just say that; I'd respect it more than some nonsensical bullshit about being too nice.  It's not the women who are frustrating to me.  It is their let-him-down-easy indoctrination to offer a "too nice" excuse that, when stripped down to its barest essentials, is little more than a politely worded lie.  I would rather be hurt honestly, than to have my feelings spared by an obfuscation of the truth.  Besides, you can only hurt my feelings if I consent to let you do so.

In some ways, I don't blame women for not wanting to go out with me.  The old, self-loathing me could not understand why any woman would consider suffering my company.  The newer, self assured me can allow that, while worthy, I could well be an acquired taste, and definitely not for everybody.  Either way, it takes the onus off the woman declining my interest.

What bothers me is my sense of hope for finding that special woman seems to have been lost along the way, in the last week, or so.  I think my hospitalization brought into sharp focus how romantically alone I really am, even though I have awesome friends!  Some, too, unfortunately, are not so awesome.  Dig this.  A woman who was a closely held confidant for a long time, but who had estranged herself from our friendship years ago despite my protestations to try to keep her attention texted last Saturday.  Within the space of about ten minutes I got three texts: 

1. What happened/Are you okay?
2. You should stop by this weekend.
3. Oh, btw, I need to "borrow" some money.

My logical instincts and my newly acquired self-confidence both agreed that she was looking to play the old, looking-for-anyone-to-latch-onto Michael to suit her own agenda.  She could have cared less if I was okay or dead.  So be it.  But if that is where you have made your bed, my darling, then that is where you now must lie.  Hope the bitch sees this, too.  Notice to opportunists and users:  DON'T FUCK WITH ME!

In some ways, I blame myself for my lack of success with the ladies.  I could not date a woman with whom I was not friends first.  As a result, I all too frequently get pigeon-holed into what my dear friend Shannon Sturks calls the "friendzone".  As she noted on my facebook page, it does, indeed, suck!

That gets me back to my original conundrum.  How do I win a woman's romantic interest?  I don't know.  My friend Lynn says it's not gonna be done through smooth talking or using the perfect line.  That suits me fine because I am not parsed, nuanced, slick, smooth, polished, couched or cool.  Just not who I am.  What I am is honest, straightforward and plainly spoken.  If that doesn't work for the ladies, then I guess a relationship is not in the cards for me, 'cause I ain't changin' for nobody.

Generally, I do not actively solicit comments to this blog.  I'm making an exception here.  I'd like ideas from others, 'cause I've simply not done so well with this question on my own.  So, fire it up, idea people, and give me what you got.  All I have to lose is my solitude, so it's a zero risk, all reward proposition.  I feel like I have been everything women and society dictate that a gentleman worthy of companionship and love should be, but still can't get "in the game", and I'm tired of being stuck here on the sidelines.

"No One Is To Blame", Howard Jones.

I'll Take Manhattans

Apparently, when you pour four Manhattans you know you have on top of pneumonia you don't know you have, you end up waking up eight hours later, with no recollection of the previous eight hours, in the University of Maryland Medical Center ER, and somehow, by the next day, your pneumonia becomes a coma after having been ground through the grist of the rumor mill.

I'll take it from the top.  I went out with a buddy on Tuesday for dinner and a movie.  We went to Banthai in Mount Vernon, then to the Charles Theater for the flick.  We had time to kill before the movie, so we strolled over to the Club Charles (Baltimore's premier dive bar) for a couple (exactly 2) Manhattans.  We saw the movie then strolled back across the way for a couple (again, exactly 2) more manhattans.  That was about 10 o'clock, and it's the last thing either of us remember.

Apparently, I fell in the bar, went unconscious, aspirated and stopped breathing.  My buddy passed out, too, and at the same damn time, apparently.  They tell me there was a cop and an ambulance.  Hell, there could even have been dancing giraffes, for all I know.  Neither one of us can still remember anything.

Next thing I know, I'm waking up in the ER in Baltimore with a tube down my throat.  So I stayed there awhile - not like I had much choice - and wrote on a dry-erase board to ask various nurses if they were single.  I figured, what the hell, they were kind of as much a captive audience as I was at that point.  Well, no dice on the Find Mike an ER Nurse Dating Game - thank you, Bob Eubanks!  

Then. fate smiled broadly upon me.  They did the transfer from the ER to MICU.  Just prior to doing the bed transfer, six gorgeous nurses, all at the same time, gave me a bath.  Do you know how much I usually have to pay to get a bath from six "nurses"?  Well, it's about the same as the cost of this stay, but the nurses ain't nearly as classy as the young, intelligent and caring lovlies, here.  If nothing else ever goes right in my life, I can now die a happy man.  Even now, I'm getting to ask top-shelf, smart, amazing looking women to do things like "tie me up".  When life hands you lemons...find a way to turn it into somethin' kinky a la 9 1/2 Weeks.

So, Wednesday was used up waiting for the tube to be removed from my throat, and basking in the afterglow of my bath.  Thursday rolls around, and I hear that a group of friends had somehow been misinformed that I was in a coma.  I told them I wasn't.  My dear friend from photo school, Jenn Austin, came along - after calling around to seven different hospitals to find me, no less - with one of her very attractive 26 year old female nursing school buddies to see me.  I thought about asking them for another bath, but decided to behave.  Then, my friend Lou and our former teacher Jack Radcliffe called to make sure I was okay.  I got a lovely card and candy from the folks at work.  It's a sappy Capra line, but so very true, that, "No man is a failure who has friends.".

In all seriousness, I am here as a result of my own bad choices, and that troubles me, even though the bad choices came to light by way of hindsight.  I seriously cannot say enough good about the University of Maryland Medical Center staff, especially the nurses.  They are truly the consummate professionals of their field, and very caring people, especially Kate and Valentyna, but all of them, really!  I couldn't be more happy with the treatment I have received, here.  More special thanks to Dr Todd, Art Cohen, Dr Wood and Dr Ligiero.  What a group!  Even my nurse tonight, Maggie, is amazing!  The gentleman who brings around the hospital food is a quintessential care-providing professional; the food is not as good, but then, this ain't supposed to be the Ritz.

Many more thanks to my family, friends (especially my facebook friends) and coworkers for their care and support.  This is not a mistake I'm looking to repeat, but it is one that has evidenced how truly blessed I am to be surrounded by the wonderful people in my life, and I love you all dearly!

Stay well, and avoid Manhattan!

"It Won't Hurt", Dwight Yoakam.

About Lynn

I think the reason Lynn's memory has lingered into this week from the last is that she is spontaneous.  The idea of spending time with her does not seem to be an obligation, or in any way stifling.  She is a pick-up-and-go kinda woman.  I love that about her!

Previously, when I have considered the possibility of a partner by my side there was always that double-edged, good-bad quality to it all.  The thought of Lynn has only one edge that is keen as a razor, and in no way bad.  She's just pretty awesome to be around.  I cannot believe I'm going on like this about someone I cannot even speak to face-to-face for another three months.  Oh well, it feels good, and I refuse to couch that good feeling.  Anyway, my hearts s fully protected and perched firmly on my sleeve! 

When I wrote "Miss Lynn" on my itinerary last week, I was not counting on the "Miss" part to be used as a verb, but that's the direction my heart has taken it, and I like it.  I find this woman to be a rejeuvenating presence in my life!

These feelings are the best and worst of what I need.  It is scary and reassuring, and wonderful and terrible, and confusing as hell while, at the same time, being quite clear.  It makes no sense and it is the most logical idea I can imagine.  In a word...WOW!

"Bring Me to Life", Evanescence.

A Fine Feeling

Whenever I get to meet somebody who seems to be a potential dating partner, I get emotionally carried away.  I hope it's her.  Please, dear God, let it be her.  Could she be the one?  Oh, I hope she's the one!  ...even though I know I need to play it cool. 

I know what I want, and when it seems close...I dunno, I just kinda can't help myself.  I'm like a kid three days before Christmas.  It got that way with my thoughts about Lynn last week, even though the pragmatic and logical side of me knew it was absolutely no dice, 'cause she lives in Orlando...and, who the hell even knows if she's interested.  I think, many times, though, I assume a woman's lack of interest before she has even sorted it out for herself.

I think, sometimes, when you are looking for something big like love or opportunity of any variety, you try to visualize it at every turn and in every situation.  Every hint of happiness or attainment of the goal becomes a romanticized, wistful walk down a primrose path that is viewed through a misty-eyed mind's eye wearing rose-colored glasses.

The same was true last week and still lingers on this cool and dreary Monday afternoon.  The search continues...

"She's So Fine", Flash Cadillac & the Continental Kids.

The Green, Green Grass of Home

Well, tonight has been much more enjoyable than last night.  I thought I had somehow scared off my buddy Lynn two nights into the four she was here for.  Turns out that wasn't the case at all, it seems.  I'm glad.  I like her.  I find myself attracted to her on many levels, but I can't get too wrapped up with thoughts in that direction, 'cause she lives in Orlando.

Maybe this quick into my newfound self-acceptance and self confidence (still feels weird to claim those attributes) I need to concentrate on going out and picking up my little victories and the biggest blessing of making a new friend or two, seemingly, at every turn.  I think I waste too much time, even on here, needlessly lamenting.

The grass is perfectly green on my side of the fence.  I'm young(ish), single, gainfully employed and financially independent of everyone but my employer...and well on my way to a pension there.  Yes, when that beautiful, lovely best-friend and co-conspirator of a partner shows up I will be even more blessed.  But I think now is the time for me to enjoy the blessings that will pave my path toward that ultimate goal.  Time to enjoy life.

"A Thousand Miles Away", The Heartbeats.

Sex Ain't What I'm Intimatin'

The couple of nights I spent hangin' out with my ol' buddy Lynn left me all fucked in the head.  She gave me what I'm lookin' for - and, no, it wasn't sex; in fact, it wasn't physical at all, save for the fact that she was physically there.  She gave me intimacy and a feeling of security.

I'm an oddball, a conversationalist, an anomaly, and most definitely a late-nighter.  Well, Lynn is most of these things, too.  We closed down the same bar for two nights runnin', and on the second night we nearly closed down the all-night diner.  Lynn even rode shotgun in Lonesome Blue (my pick-up truck for those scoring along at home - yes, I named it...I know) from the bar to the diner.  Do you know how long I've wanted to have a female partner riding shotgun with me?  For one evening Lonesome Blue was un-Lonesome Blue.  We talked, commiserated, gossiped and laughed about anything and everything under the sun...and nearly 'til the sun came up.

Sex is not one of the main things I want from a relationship.  I guess 'cause in this day and age it's no longer a special kind of thing.  A person can get sex from their gender of choice by picking just about any partner who needs to score some drugs, then facilitating that need through extorted copulation.  I want intimacy!  I want someone there when something - God forbid - happens to a friend or family member.  I want someone there at a quarter to three in the morning to listen to some crazy idea that I just thought up and am way too overly excited about.  I want her there in our old age when I'm melancholy and missing my parents.  I want her next to me to ease the ill nerves caused by an all-too-real nightmare.  I want to be that person, that strong man she needs, to help face her good and bad times, too.  I am that man, so where is that woman for me?

When a woman says that I'm "such a great guy", it is, of course parenthetically appended with"...but not for me.".  And when a lady tells me about remaining "just friends", it means she doesn't want to help me with my emotional baggage or to sleep with me, and she doesn't want my intimacy either.  I'm tired of the seemingly constant stream of rejection.

I'm tired of God hearing what I need and still saying no, no, no.  I want to cut Him off and take the last word for myself.  I think if I hear one more woman give me the "just friends" or "such a great guy" business, I'll punch her in the face.  I would honestly have greater respect for a woman who told me that she didn't want anything to do with me 'cause she thinks I'm a fat, ugly dork or an arrogant asshole.  Either way the ultimate outcome is the same - no partner.  But, at least I wouldn't be left to wonder why she wasn't interested if, indeed, I am "such a great guy".

"But Not For Me", Judy Garland.

Everybody's Friend

I have lots of friends that I dearly cherish and love, but I also want to love my lover.

I seem to get pigeon-holed into that friendship role with every woman I meet.  Some of that could be my fault because I could not take a lover who was not first my friend.  I don't get the whole I just want you fror a relationship, but I don't think we'd be very good friends business.  I also don't get why I can't be anyone's lover.  All my female friends think I'm "such a great guy".  Well, if I'm that fuckin' great, why does not even one of them lean in and give me that kiss that is either so sweet and gentle or so mind-blowing that I will remember it on my deathbed if I live to be a hundred years old?

I've reconciled my confidence and sense of self.  I no longer hate me.  I don't think I'm a loser or a failure anymore.  I am comfortable with the choices I have made for my life.  So, with those insecurities out of the way, and with a representative cross-section of women numbering somewhere between a quorum and a bevy (some of whom, btw, are free and single), why I can't I seem to garner the affections of one of these ladies who supposedly think that I'm "such a great guy"?

I get that I have my own selective ideas of what kind of woman I want to be with, and that women will also have their own selective choices.  But, I find a number of the women I meet to possess wonderfully engaging potential for a dating relationship, but it seems not one of them think the same of me. 

It is that kind of constant lack of affection from women that gives rise to my self-destructive thoughts and hurtful demons.  I have recalculated my own understanding of self.  I am even learning to wear my confidence in place of my rusty metal armor of detachment.  It seems to be getting me more conversattions that lead to...you got it...more friends.  I want a friends-first relationship, so that is good.  But, how do I get one of these beautiful ladies to see me as viable and desirable dating prospect?

"Human Touch", Bruce Springsteen.

Late Night Logic

I told myself I would stay out no later than 2.  Sure enough, here I am stumblin' in at exactly too late!  Hung out with Lynn again, tonight.  I am really gonna miss my late-night/after-hours confabulatory buddy when she goes back to Florida.  It's nice having a closing time, kindred spirit who also isn't quite done solving the world's problems just 'cause it's last call.  If she didn't live a freakin' thousand miles away, I might even be inclined to try to call dibs on a good bit of her free time, but it is what it is.  Fascinating gal!

Anomalies.  That word comes back to haunt me yet again.  Why must they be so preciously few and so very far between?  Sometimes, I feel like I'm at the intersection of The Road Not Taken and The Path Less Traveled.

"Late Night Grande Hotel", Nanci Griffith.

Winds of Change

I think Vickie and I might have fixed me.  It has been suggested to me that maybe I am no longer in need of therapy at this point.  Looking critically at this idea only reaffirms the notion.

When Vickie left, I no longer had the "recharge" session to look forward to every two to three weeks.  While she was available to me, I wasn't forced to solve my own issues, 'cause I knew I could take "it" to her in 10 days to two weeks time, more or less.  The elephant in the room (whatever particular issue it may happened to have been) would have to wait, 'cause Vickie was going to be there soon enough to help me with the heavy lifting.  Well, Vickie is not in a state to be doing any heavy lifting right now, and she's not gonna be available to my aid soon enough.  I gotta do it.  And, guess what.  I have!

With Vickie's help, I was able to move outside of myself.  I never ventured too far, 'cause I wanted to validate every little move with her approval.  Well, since she made it time for me to stand on my own two feet, I have gone to Atlantic City with three lovely young women, and had a blast, by the way.  I have smoked out a specific woman's intent toward a dating component to our relationship - hello, Patti.  I have expanded my network of friends - hello, recently acquainted peeps.   I have given up one major vice - soda.  I have kept the company of at least one beautiful, intelligent woman with neither the expectation nor any predetermined proclivity toward the notion of there being more, or not - hello, Lynn.  I have cut away some influences that were disempowering to my overall sense of confidence.  None of these things were able to be done with the expectation of getting a gold star from Vickie at therapy for my efforts, because she simply is not available to me in that way, anymore.  She's not there.

For all the grief I have gotten from others at times; and, for all of the grief I have given myself alot of the time about not leaving the nest and venturing out "on my own" in some marked and meaningful way, I think this time, and in this particular situation, I have proven to myself and to some of those around me that I can manage my own emotions, feelings and affairs...and, at least, the affairs of several other folks, too, btw, who look to me for help.  I have also affirmed through action to a few that I will not be anyone else's emotional dumping ground or doormat.

It seems, ruminatively speaking, that for all intent and purpose, I had to navigate "on my own" from a very young age.  I was a scared little kid when I psychologically "left the nest".  I wasn't ready; and, as a result, I spent the better part of thirty years much like a sparrow in a hurricane.  Oh sure, I learned to ride the winds.  I even learned to fairly accurately anticipate a change in direction of those winds.  But it took the caring, understanding, patience, compassion and selfless love of Vickie to teach me to stop gliding on the winds stirred up by others and to deliberately fly with my own direction, intent and purpose, and without blind deferrence to the hostile gusts and heady breezes offered by everyone else.

Give yourself a pat on the back and a big ol' high-5 there, Vick!  I think we saw this thing through!

"Let the Four Winds Blow", Fats Domino. 

Two Can Be As Bad As One

Having now had some time to reflect on this past weekend's fun, I have to admit that if I did have a steady girlfriend, I probably would not have been as readily able to run off for a weekend with three lovely, platonic female friends.  I don't think I'd have had as good a time with a girlfriend as I did hanging out with just great friends.  Most of the fun without any of the drama is kinda tough to beat.

Now, that in no way diminishes my desire to find that someone special.  It just gives me pause to consider that maybe enjoying myself in every available moment is more important than focusing all of my effort and energy toward some unknown future moment.  I need to have fun in the now. 

My women friends have a mutual friend who called himself Adam Mania.  I only got to talk to this guy for about a half hour or forty-five minutes one night while hanging at Bolan's.  In less than an hour he became a life-long friend.  That life, quite sadly, was lost to a motorcycle accident a mere ten days after I'd met him.  Adam's spirit, though, still lives full-tilt through all of his friends, and his kindness, too, which was evidenced beautifully by Erica over the weekend.  And, he screws with weather patterns, too...but that's a story for another time. 

I have fallen in with a good group of wonderful people!  We look out for each other.  There is a love among us that is simple and pure.  Before meeting these folks, I suffered with low self-esteem to the point of self-hatred.  But these folks' acceptance and enjoyment of who I am have forced me to rethink my own opinion of who I am, really, and I am seeing some of the things that they see.  I think that is because I know I care about these people as much as they care about each other, and me.

It's like, because of these folks' company, compassion and caring, I went out looking to meet one special person, but ended up falling in love with the whole world.  I honestly don't think I could be anymore happy with my life than I am right now, but I know there is still a place for that one special lady.  It is no longer a space of loneliness, though.  It is a space of happiness and very good news.  I want to talk to her in bed 'til four in the morning about how blessed I am to have found Erica and Jen and Mike Snyder and Chelsea and Kristen and that guy Harry and Jessica and Bethany and Jeb and Michelle and Debbie and Kerri and Phil and Candy and Roger and most definitely Adam.  Hell, I want to shout from the rooftops how great my newfound friends are!  I hope I can somehow bring a tenth of the happiness to these people's lives that they have brought to mine.

It is apparent through his life that everyone who knew him really loved Adam, and you can count me among those.  It is also the case that most people did not warm to me very quickly until recently.  I think on the night of 17 November 2011, Adam saw in me a guy who needed a boost, and I think he "willed" me some of whatever it is that he has...charm, charisma or whatever.  He didn't know me...well, from Adam.  But in his eyes I was a fellow human being doing my best to get through this life, and so that alone was enough to give my life great worth.  I have adopted that same sense of kindness I felt fortunate and, at the same time, bewildered to recieve when I met him.  It was a special night.  It changed my life, and I couldn't be happier or more thankful.

"One is the Loneliest Number", Three Dog Night.

Stranger on the Shore

Who knew that by going to Atlantic City the odds would be in my favor to find happiness and contentment within myself and my continuing search for love!  In fact, it was on a bench on the boardwalk on a more than chilly Saturday afternoon when the answer that I needed was put into one single, solitary word - anomalies.  More on that in a bit. 

In the casinos there is no sense of the time of day - 4 in the morning is as much of a party as 4 in the afternoon, maybe more.  And my cohorts and I exceeded that curfew by a good many nautical miles on our first night in town.  We closed down the "proper" clubs at 4 a.m..  Then we found an after-hours place where we partied with some of the same bartenders we had bought drinks from earlier in the night.  Our group consisted of Erica, Jen, Chelsea, their friend Mike, his friend Harry, and me.  The age range represented was early 20's to late 50's/early 60's, and we all had a great time together.  We finally called it a "night" around 7 a.m.

When I go on a get-away I like to waste as little time necessary on stuff like restorative sleep.  So, I was back up at 10 a.m., ready to roll.  Well, my very junior cohorts were not as eager to rise-and-shine, so I heard from them a few hours later...and then it happened.  Erica told me me she wanted to hit the boards to find some proper boardwalk fries.  As an aside, that must be an Ocean City, Maryland thing 'cause we never did find any fries that were quite similar to Thrasher's - and no damned malt vinegar on any of the french fry stand counters...wtf!  Anyway, I told Erica about my conundrum between dating women my own age who understand the same pop culture points of reference, and dating women her age who are more energetic and fun.  That's when she hit me with it - like a ton of bricks, really.  Erica said it's not about any certain age.  She opined that it's about being different, or as she put it, an anomaly.  Erica went on to explain that she and her girlfriends do not well represent most 20-somethings anymore than I represent most 40 year olds, or Harry defines people around the 60 milepost.  She went onto say that we are people who, for various reasons, have fun in a different way...occasionally more, and often harder.  She told me I need to find another available anomaly!  So, that cleared up what I am looking for, someone who probably does things in a not-so-stratified way, and sometimes rolls hard while having fun.  All this from a gal who was as foggy on the inside at that time, as that dreary day was on the outside.  It all kinda reminded me that maybe the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls and tenement halls. 

Wisdom sometimes springs from the strangest fonts, especially for us anomalies!  Things are most definitely stranger on the shore.  I just yearn to meet my stranger...

"Stranger on the Shore", Mr Acker Bilk.

Leaving Atlantic City

I am attracted to certain aspects of almost every woman I meet, socially.  In appearance and personality, Jen is all that!  On a more cerebral level, I feel an almost soulful kinship with Erica.  There is a certain creativity that just bowls me over about Kristen.  These young women are 13-15 years my junior.  And then there's Patti. 

Patti is a good woman who seems to have gone through a bad divorce.  I met her at church.  She was a sponsor to a candidate in RCIA classes back in 2009/10.  She and I have leaned on each other quite a bit over the last, almost three years.  Patti has taken a genuine, nurturing interest in my general psychological health and welfare.  I think my schedule and my unshakable sense of independence frustrates her sometimes, but she always looks out for me.  Patti is older than me by eight years.

The excitement and energy I feel when I'm around the younger women is balanced out almost perfectly by the senses of comfort and ease I feel when I'm around Patti; Erica is almost as easy to be around, too.  Patti, though, is the only one of these women who is not in a serious relationship with another guy.  Ergo, Patti is a potential dating prospect.

Patti is good to me.  She is very encouraging, and she consistently challenges me to improve to my better self.  Sometimes she pushes a bit harder than I would like, and sometimes she discounts tools that I find to be of valuable assistance to me; but, everything she does is from a place of love.  I know she really wants the best for me.

So, tonight I laid my cards on the table and sent Patti a letter to ask if she was interested in the prospect of us dating.  I haven't heard back from her.  I honestly don't know where she is with this.  We are good friends, but, every so often, she seems to at least hint at some level of emotional interest, posibly even romantic interest.  I am not sure how things would work out between Patti and me in a dating situation, but if she has the same mutual curiousity about how it might go, then it's not a stone I wish to leave unturned.  I am ready to date.  I am willing to date Patti, but if she is not interested, I still plan to pursue the prospect of meaningful dating.  I am looking to find the glorious, beautiful woman who is meant to be my best friend, soul mate and life partner.

I am going to Atlantic City this weekend with three of my young women friends.  I have recruited them to my aide of helping me to find someone to date.  I am still conflicted over the "proper" age range for the women I might date.  So many my age and older seem so stodgy, these young women are fun.  They don't pigeon-hole themself into some way-too-serious unbreakable social role.  The best, most gregarious and fun me comes out when I am in their company.  So, I'm not sure what my target audience is for potential dating partners.

Also, I have recently given up soda altogether.  I was hooked on Coca-Cola.  I'm up to 95 hours since my last Coke as of this writing.  I've been a bit jittery without the stuff, but it seems to get a little better everyday.

I feel almost as though an opportunity to date is something I somehow owe to Patti.  I will be glad to hear from her one way or the other.  I am looking forward to my weekend away.  I think with Patti's answer, and some time to myself absent my usual obligations, cares and concerns, it will give me pause to consider where I am, and to start to formulate a strategy moving forward toward where I want to be.

"Atlantic City", Bruce Springsteen.

An Age Old (and Young) Question

Ya know when you were a kid and you would play those hide-and-seek games and if you were getting close to the hidden person someone else would say, "getting warmer."?  Looking for a relationship should be like that.  It would make the whole process so much easier, and, really, so much more fun.

There are women I'm interested in, there are women I'm hoping to meet, and there are women who seem to be, at least, passingly interested in me.  Although, I am least comfortable with the third part of that premise, because I cannot imagine any woman ever being attracted to me.  Still, at least one is acting as though it may - however improbable it seems to me - be so.  I think I am most at-ease with the second variety of woman.  The one who is a concept, anonymous.  The one whom I have not yet met.  The first variety of female companion, causes for me a greater sense of unease - the one(s) in whom I am interested.  I usually thin out their ranks without giving them (or myself) a chance, convincing myself that she or I or both are too much of one thing or not enough of the other, or a combination of reasons and excuses.  Then there is the third type of woman...the one who seems to be interested in me.  This type scares the hell out of me.  My basic approach while looking for female company is one that expects failure.  If I try to get a woman's attention and she does not seem interested, I can take the disinterest and use it to beat myself up, asking, "What the hell is wrong with me?".  Then, on the flip-side, if a woman seems interested, it leaves me asking, "What the hell is wrong with her?".

So, I have been wondering if my friend Patti has any thoughts about us starting to date.  There have been faint signs, which I could be totally misreading, I'll admit; but, even Vickie thought it was a possibility  Also, I have wondered about dating someone significantly younger, as my social circle seems to be broadening in that direction.  Then, yesterday afternoon, while trying to get some shut-eye, I had a dream that I was kissing a woman a few years older than me, but who was not known to me.  That kinda ruled out both Patti and any younger-than-my-desired-age-bracket women, but should it?  I don't know.

"Young Girl", Gary Puckett & the Union Gap.