I'm reading Julia Child's "My Life in France" right now and I love that she just up and says that she was still figuring things out at the ripe, old age of 37. I'm still in my first half (barely) of my 30s, but I'm still figuring things out. I am leaps behind most of you, I'm sure, but it sure is fun to learn. (Agonizing, sometimes, too.) Bear with me. (Or don't--that's the great thing about blogs; you don't have to read them.)
Things are great on the man front. Great because I am having fun, goddammit, not because I have any dates lined up. Right now I am enjoying meeting men and flirting and not worrying about followthrough.
Note to any man who might be reading this: salsa is a great opportunity to meet women. I'm talking dance, not sauce. Saturday night I found myself at a downtown N____ location, leaning against a bar while my friend, Amanda, danced an expert salsa. I didn't think anyone would actually ask me to dance, what with my height and what with these modern tendencies towards male hesitance. Well, I rested my elbows against the polished walnut not two minutes before this handsome Latino man walked up and asked me to dance. I said I didn't salsa, but he didn't care.
Meanwhile, there was a bank of Caucasian men drinking beer and watching and missing out on the action. My dance partner, Roberto, and I had a lot of fun, never mind that he spoke two works of English and I didn't dance salsa. So, men, if you don't dance, I suggest you pick it up. We ladies love a man who can dance!
New topic: How many hints should a woman drop before she gives up? I'm talking about C. We ran into each other at a restaurant last week and the delight in seeing each other was obvious, and I emailed him after asking him how he liked the place. He wrote back but ... I have suggested places in downtown N___, have mentioned the restaurants and drinks I like all to no avail. I sense interest, but again--no followthrough. (Maybe it's the Height Factor??)
Do I want to be with a man so hesitant? No. So my very own suggestion to myself is: drop it.
Very good. Will do.
On another note, I went to a trivia night at a bar up-valley last night and it became crystal clear to me that my friend (I use the term loosely) had talked me up to the dear, extremely nerdy guy keeping score. (Another friend, when describing the scorekeeper to me said, "Well, he's definitely not 007 ..." Ladies, there's got to be a whisper of sexiness--at least!--in a prospective interest, right??) So all night long, Scorekeeper kept on catching my eye and giving me The Eye, no less. Awkward! If my "friend" had left well enough along Scorekeeper and I might have become friends and something might (ugh, can't imagine) have happened. But nothing can happen now, what with all that hope swimming in his eyes.
I left right after the game, apologizing to my friend-friend for having slept so badly the night before and being so tired. Scorekeeper was disappointed. Tough. Not interested.
So, yes, this is life: the men I am not attracted to stand there waiting for me to bestow favor upon them while the others are like vapor (truly, because I can't think of anyone I'm attracted to at this moment).
Ah, life. I don't mind it. (smile)
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