Did I tell you that I've grown balls?
Yup, for the first time in something like four years I actually looked a man in the eye and asked him out for drinks. Granted, I've had plenty of dates since The Ex and I went our separate ways, but they've all been arranged either through friends or through internet dating sites or, god help me, through chat rooms. So I considered it a bit of a milestone that I met a guy who seemed very nice and I actually girded my loins and asked him out.
You'd be surprised how strong a motivator (or de-motivator) the fear of face-to-face rejection can be for me. Odd, that, given my profession.
Anyway, I grew some balls and asked this guy out. This was back on August 10th (which -- how's this for the Universe telling me to get over myself? -- just happens to be The Ex's birthday... I didn't realize that 'til later), and I called him the next day and left a message, hoping we could get together soon. No return call. Trying not to be too obviously desperate and stalker-esque, I waited a whole week before trying him again.
He never called me back. Welcome to the world of the straight woman, my friends.
I have to confess to having been a little broken-hearted. He seemed like a really sweet guy.
Well, I ran into him again at the shop where he works, and he apologized for not calling me back. And he gave me, frankly, the best excuse anyone's ever given me for not returning a phone call.
Turns out he suffers from epilepsy, and had a gran mal seizure while out with friends, fell and hit his head, wrenched his neck, and ended up carted off to the hospital. After he woke up and was discharged from the hospital, he went and spent a week recuperating with his parents back in his hometown, and only came back the day before yesterday.
I spent the afternoon hanging out at the shop and talking. When he got off work, we went and had an afternoon cocktail. I haven't had alcohol of any sort before, like, dinnertime in I-can't-tell-you how long. Having a drink in the sun in the middle of the afternoon made for a very interesting rehearsal yesterday. I'm such a lightweight.
So anyway, the nice guy's back, and I'm hoping he'll call this time and we'll actually get to have a real date. I'm trying to be practical, not pessimistic (the glass is half full, the glass is half full, the glass is half full), when I remind myself that he still hasn't called me back yet.
Yup, for the first time in something like four years I actually looked a man in the eye and asked him out for drinks. Granted, I've had plenty of dates since The Ex and I went our separate ways, but they've all been arranged either through friends or through internet dating sites or, god help me, through chat rooms. So I considered it a bit of a milestone that I met a guy who seemed very nice and I actually girded my loins and asked him out.
You'd be surprised how strong a motivator (or de-motivator) the fear of face-to-face rejection can be for me. Odd, that, given my profession.
Anyway, I grew some balls and asked this guy out. This was back on August 10th (which -- how's this for the Universe telling me to get over myself? -- just happens to be The Ex's birthday... I didn't realize that 'til later), and I called him the next day and left a message, hoping we could get together soon. No return call. Trying not to be too obviously desperate and stalker-esque, I waited a whole week before trying him again.
He never called me back. Welcome to the world of the straight woman, my friends.
I have to confess to having been a little broken-hearted. He seemed like a really sweet guy.
Well, I ran into him again at the shop where he works, and he apologized for not calling me back. And he gave me, frankly, the best excuse anyone's ever given me for not returning a phone call.
Turns out he suffers from epilepsy, and had a gran mal seizure while out with friends, fell and hit his head, wrenched his neck, and ended up carted off to the hospital. After he woke up and was discharged from the hospital, he went and spent a week recuperating with his parents back in his hometown, and only came back the day before yesterday.
I spent the afternoon hanging out at the shop and talking. When he got off work, we went and had an afternoon cocktail. I haven't had alcohol of any sort before, like, dinnertime in I-can't-tell-you how long. Having a drink in the sun in the middle of the afternoon made for a very interesting rehearsal yesterday. I'm such a lightweight.
So anyway, the nice guy's back, and I'm hoping he'll call this time and we'll actually get to have a real date. I'm trying to be practical, not pessimistic (the glass is half full, the glass is half full, the glass is half full), when I remind myself that he still hasn't called me back yet.
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