Let's Do This Again Sometime

Why is it after a not-so-hotso date with someone, even if there is no intention to ever ever ever to see this person again, the ever famous line is either "Let's do this again sometime!" or the popular "I'll call you.". Suppose throughout the entire encounter all that was running through one's head was "Please let me make it out of here alive." or "I am going to shoot myself if I have to listen to her laugh hideously one more time.". Even on dates where there is no risk whatsoever, say, just meeting up for coffee, the point at which it is determined by both parties that it's time to go and there is no apparent chemistry, these types of lines are still pulled out to make departure less awkward. Guess it wouldn't be the most polite thing in the world to get up and say "This was the worst date ever. Take care and don't bother calling.". The phrase take care is perhaps is one of the least ineffectual lines on the planet. Whatever the case may be, it is truly one of the wierdest moments in the whole world of dating.

Case and point. My very first online date was obtained after searching Craig's List (mistake number one) after the second or third "breakup" from Miss Portland. (Long story and that will be for some other post or it may very well never make it in here, who knows. But for now, let's leave it at that, shall we?) Clearly rebounding, having no idea where to start and the cyber community was making progress in leaps and bounds hooking lonely individuals up, off I went into a place that I knew nothing about--that being dating, much less attempting to do so online. Answering a few posts here and there, hoping to hear something, anything, even potential rejection just to know if my emails were making it through. Eventually someone wrote back and I didn't know quite what to do. A few notes of correspondence went back and forth, none of which said much. No photos exchanged. (Mistake number two.) At some point we decided to meet for coffee, what was there to lose? The second I figured out who my mystery date was, I wanted to flee to a place far far away. Knew immediately there was no attraction and had no desire to strike up a conversation of any kind. Instead, I sat for two hours attempting to pretend interested in non-profits, her longing for the east coast, and the desired state of polyamory. I must have become too twitchy for words and she got the hint and asked me for an escort to her vehicle. Being the "nice" midwesterner that I was, of course the answer was "Um, ok, sure.". Upon arrival at the truck, the online date turned real gave me a hug, stated she had fun to which I of course extremely awkwardly piped up "Let's do this again sometime." She answered "Yes of course, I will email you!". Never heard from her again. Certainly didn't do my part either to make any sort of contact. Whew. Clearly we were both too cowardly to say that this was perhaps the most uninspiring date either one of us had ever been on.

Lesson learned: if you are truly bored and didn't have a good date, call it a night, thank them for their time and move on. I'm lucky now to have found a gal I never had to say these things to because I liked her the minute I heard her giggle. (Which was within the first 30 seconds of conversation!) But I do most certainly do remember how difficult it is to end a bad date. Perhaps the rest of the world simply has more balls than I do to reject someone and not leave it at niceties. It's that midwestern politeness I guess....

Driver Driver

At work today our group attended a department wide class called Social Styles. There was a bit of pre-work completed by ourselves and our co-workers to determine exactly what social style we are based on interactions, body language, communication, non-verbals, all that hoo-ha. The 4 labels are: expressive, driver, amiable, and analytical. No surprise, I came up a driver. In fact, we were then given a sub-category which is essentially the back up method used when it's not possible to rely on the primary behavior. Some folks were amiable drivers or expressive aimiables. Once again, I turned out to be a driver driver. Great.

What this means is the communication style utilized by your's truly is of the following list: direct, serious, confrontational, all about business, control seeking, goal oriented, and accomplishment driven. Mind you, this is not at all what I wanted to be categorized as. Most people would prefer to be expressive or amiable, but not a driver. I have learned to accept my driver-ness and rather than fight it, will make the most out of the driver situation. I suppose every group needs a driver of some sort. But come on, who really wants to be considered an extreme driver. Could be worse things I suppose.

Due to the training today I was able to leave work at 4pm. Needed to go to Target for supplies for the trip which is also located right next to the Serremonte mall. I hate malls. Ever since going to one in Madison, WI not too long after my return from Peace Corps. Had a panic attack after buying 5 pair of underwear for what had been my salary for 2 months while a volunteer and vowed to return only out of sheer necessity. (Victoria's Secret or Hot Topix) Anyway, since I was at Target and close to the mall anyway, thought it might be ok to pop in and take care of the only and last of my holiday shopping. (Miss Becky and I are going to have a very minor gift exchange and I purchased coffee and chocolate for my parents. That's it, the extent of shopping this year.) Big mistake. The place was crawling with folks from all ages racing from store to store to get the very last of their items and there I was amongst it all wanting to run and hide. Eventually I ended up purchasing some socks and a few things for Becky and bailed after getting everything I needed from Target. I don't think I want to do that again.

Also went to Get Lost a travel book and map store in the Lower Haight. I love that place! They have everything you can imagine for travel. Purchased an inflatable neck pillow for the plane ride. An excellent map of the big island detailing spots for snorkeling, diving, and hiking. And finally, a book called Hidden Adventures in Hawaii. I can't wait to go. Not long now....

Letting it go

Tonight's yoga lesson was about seeing how we fit into the larger picture. How it is that an individual being draws itself on the canvas of life. What sort of strings keep us involved in the great big world which surrounds us? How can one influence so much? What keeps us disconnected, as though we cannot change what we do not like through the power of one.

This got me to think about how sometimes I simply cannot let things go. Would be easy to say it comes from my dad's side of the family and I was born with it. Perhaps. But is getting so embossed in the detail of what we truly cannot control nor change something that is genetic? Probably not. More than likely it's a learned behavior via lots of willingness and self actualization I may actually be able to overcome. In thinking through this over the 2 hours spent in class discussing this lesson I kept visioning myself as a child hanging onto a helium filled balloon on a string. Clutching onto this thing for dear life, no way it was going to escape and slip away from me. Holding onto it with such a strong grip because I didn't know what would happen should I let go. Wanting to control the balloon, it's proximity to me, how much I could let it stray, if at all. Walking outside thinking it's tightly attached however much to my dismay, picturing the flight of the balloon upward with string trailing behind it side to side as if it were waving it's last goodbye as it trails into the great unknown. With a fear struck look on my face not knowing which way to turn, thinking now that I have lost control there will never be another helium balloon on a string in my life again. Holding onto things which I cannot control nor change is me with that balloon. A tightly reigned in situation used to be the only way I knew how to live and it was preventing me from seeing the bigger picture and how to fit into it. When all that is in the line of vision is what is right in front of you or contraints from the past, it's harder to see where to go or how it is possible to make unfavorable life situations better, one balloon at a time. If I let my hypothetical helium filled balloons go, one at a time, the returns may be many and not within my control to receive, but they will be there. The bigger picture may more clearly be seen.

The Excursion has been towed away. Came home from work today and it was gone. What was discovered on my way to yoga was my bike has a flat front tire. Have been riding it every Thursday night to class as finding parking in the Mission at 6pm is next to impossible. Dang thing was flat as a pancake. I missed dodging cars on Mission and Valencia street. The trek up the monstrosity of a hill to get back to the apartment. Using the cool red flashy thing on the back of my bike and backpack. Looking all safety oriented in my bike helmet. Yes, I have been wearing my helmet for the past 4 months. Lost a debate so have but no choice to wear it now. Anyone know how to fix a flat? (Aside from the obvious put air in it.)

Disturbing heavy metal concert. What's up with opening fire on the Pantera guy and crowd? That shit ain't right. That guy clearly had a collection of balloons to let go. Then again, who doesn't?

Time's a flyin'!

Time is flying. I cannot believe it is almost mid December already. Where in the world did November go for that matter? In less than two weeks Miss B and I will be oceanside in Hawaii. We are headed to the big island for 10 days with nothing-to-do-but-nothing! Months ago we purchased tickets, planned out what rental car to get, discussed what we hoped to do, purchased a Lonely Planet guide book to read cover to cover prior to departure. The only thing we do have planned thus far is a 4 night stay in A-frame camping structures at Hapuna Beach. The next 4 nights at Volcano National Park. A reserved economy car from Budget. Oh, and do really do whatever comes along as it arrives. Guess the guidebook will come in handy then and reading it cover to cover prior really won't help all that much. It will be an excellent way to spend Christmas holiday, trekking around a land neither of us know anything about nor have visited before. It is our first attempt at a long trip together. With any luck we will both survive without killing the respective person. No real fear of that seeing as it has been almost 6 months (will be on the 13th) and we haven't gotten to anywhere near a blow up. How has this happened? In most previous dating experiences there was always the feeling of "How can I make this work?". The key is we don't have to make anything work. It just does. I anticipate it will for years to come. It's like that, and it's a glorious feeling!

Prior to that however I do have 6 performance reviews to write (including my own). I don't wanna! It's the yearly summary of an employee's performance. Bonus and raise are based on this information. Of course folks are currently on their best behavior. If only they would work like this the entire year through!

On a neighborhood note, I awoke to a disturbing event and it didn't involve the CBBL for a change. Last night the rain was pummeling against the window at 4am. This awoke Sammy and I briefly. Rolling over to give my shoulder a break, at a glance I saw outside my window two men dressed in black taking tires off an SUV called the Excursion by Chevrolet. From a dead slumber the only thing my brain could generate was "Hm. That sure is strange. Why would you take tires off during a rainstorm?". When walking to the Lesbaru this morning, on the ground were the lug nuts from the tires. The Excursion was up on wooden blocks, all 4 tires missing. Yes indeed, during the night thugs lifted the SUV and took the fancy rims and tires right off the truck. And the Crazy Baked Bean Lady wants me to turn off my car alarm! Sheesh.

Sleep n' Snore Ernie

The weekend was filled with random events. Kicked Friday night off with a trip to the Eagle. Hadn't been there on a Friday in ages. In fact, it's probably been a few years. Shortcake, E, and I used to huddle up there by 5pm every weekend kick off with vodka tonics and stories of woe from the work week. Oddly enough there also was a rather large lesbian gaggle surrounding the fire pit. By and large the Eagle is predominately gay male biker bar with oddities. It may very well be more of a Queer bar than gay as it really does cater to all types. I like this. At times it is ok to go to lesbian only venues but it's great to have a place like the Eagle where you can be whomever you want whenever you want. Anyhoo, met up with Miss A and Hollysan for some good giggles. Miss B was exhausted from a long week of teaching the special littles. She tried and tried to jump into conversation but it was difficult due to the brain fry of the week. It was great to end the week spending time with the bears!

Saturday was spent with a long morning in bed. Neither Miss B nor I had slept in for a very long time. Neither of us even stirred until 9am or so. We both woke up here and there as the morning passed us by and the next thing you know, it was 11:30. Where did it go? Why in the world was I so sleepy? I mean really, I sit at a desk all day planning production which these days only requires half my brain at best. I go to yoga twice a week. Walk up and down the street to the grocery store and to drop off videos. Must have been something to have brought on this sound slumber. Eventually breakfast was cooked up and we ventured into the world to do as minimal Christmas shopping as possible. This was somewhat painless compared to years past but due to the apprehension felt when entering crowds of shoppers fighting over the best parking spot in the mall. I picked up 3 pounds of coffee for my mom. Becky found items for her nieces and nephews at FLAX. That's it. DONE.

I just can't buy into the commercialism and insanity of Christmas anymore. It's great to remember the ones you love on a special day of the year however does it really have to be the centerpoint for society months on end? What does Christmas mean? To most, over spending, stress of buying the right thing, waiting in long lines, and simply too much hassle for me to run out and get into the Christmas spirit as advertised by the Gap or Norelco. (Although I do think the commercial with the snowman cruising around the winter wonderland on a smooth 3 head electrical razor is darn cute!) One year when making the trek back to Wisconsin for the holidays I actually carried all the presents purchased for my family. Had I been planning ahead these items most certainly would have been shipped far far ahead as not to deal with them on the plane which included a layover in O'Hare, eventually to land in Milwaukee. One of the items in tow was a Sleep n' Snore Ernie (of Ernie and Bert on Sesame street) purchased for my niece Jordan. Sleep n' snore Ernie, when bumped, said "I'm sleeeepy...snzzzzzzzzz" and would continue to snore for approximately a minute. All gifts had been gift wrapped prior to departure from San Francisco, including Sleep n' Snore Ernie. One important thing forgotten was to remove the batteries from Ernie. This brilliant idea came to fruition while awaiting take off in San Francisco. Every time the bag holding Sn'SE was bumped, it was announced that he was sleepy followed up with the one minute snoring sound. This continued during the 4 hour flight to O'Hare. Any small bout with turbulence brought about words from Sn'SE and the entire plane was now aware that he was on board. As did walking across O'Hare to get on the next plane to Milwaukee and the flight thereafter. Upon the arrival in my little home town, I was ready to chuck Sn'SE into the next county, regardless of how damn sleepy he kept stating he was. It was from that trip forward that two things were decided: 1) traveling to the Midwest for Christmas is just downright silly 2) gifts aren't that important--surely not important enough to make the trek with them in tow. I haven't traveled to Wisconsin for Christmas since then. Nor have I been into sending gifts home for the holidays. It just seems everyone can spend their time differently, not involving the expectation of gifts from me nor feeling the need to shop and send items across country. Lord knows I am not going to drag another Sn'SE with me!

Another Cog in the Wheel

Today was one of those days where it felt like I was the star in the Duncan Doughnuts commercial from the '80's---"Time to make the doughnuts". If you don't remember this, the basic premise was DD's plea to show you how dedicated they were to getting the customer the freshest product possible. The baker got up very early and with every event to get himself to the shop came out the phrase "Time to make the doughnuts.".

Plodding through my day felt like this. Every event, every step of the way, I felt like it was time to make the doughnuts. Could be that I am simply bored with what I do. Or the fact that I simply am a cog in the wheel of a major corporation. Easily replaced. Middle management, and appear to be stuck there for quite a bit longer. Feelings of being the gerbil on the squeaky wheel with no oil in sight. Just squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak, Monday through Friday. This is the rollercoaster called work and most appropriately so. If it wasn't work it would be called Super Duper Fun Time which work can be but isn't always going to be the case. Does anyone actually love what they do day in and day out? Is there a job that brings complete and total satisfaction when it's time to punch out? Maybe, however I suspect more often than not most people feel the same way as I about their work. Everyone has their days. Simply put, today was one of those.

Crazy Baked Bean Lady Returns

A while ago there was a minor vandalism incident involving my car, a can of baked beans, and a rather angry neighbor. A few notes were left on my vehicle demanding the slight "honk" it produces when the doors are unlocked and security system is turned off awakes her abruptly in the morning. No response was given to the not-so-neighborly notes and the "beep-beep" at 7:30am continued. Mind you, the notes were more than likely a product of a note which was left on her 1983 Ford Escort asking for more space when parking behind my car. (Crazy Baked Bean Lady set off my car alarm and parked leaving the front bumper of her car jammed into the back of mine so I could not leave for work that morning with no room to maneuver out of the space between her car and the truck in front of me.) After I did not respond to the second note which cursed me out and accused me of having no common sense because the car alarm is so obtrusive, she felt the need to sneak out in the middle of the night to dump and squish a can of baked beans all over the windshield and hood of the lesbaru. This happened a day after 2 hours had been spent detailing it inside and out while parked in front of our respective apartments. While the detailing was being performed I could view her spying me, pacing in front of her window, shaking her fists in my general direction. All I could think at the time was "Hm. Weird.". Imagine the dialogue in her head...."Oh I will show that alarm honking hussy! The minute the opportunity presents itself I am going to mess her up! And to do so I will use baked beans---mwahhh-ha-ha!". When all was said and done, the baked bean incident was reported to the police and complaint filed. It's about all there was left to do.

Evidently the Crazy Baked Bean Lady (CBBL) has had a change in schedule. Yesterday morning while we were both leaving for work I walked to my car, disengaged the locks, the car gave out it's weak "beep-beep" and the door was opened. Behind me, with her CBBL narley voice resonated the words "Can't you turn that damn thing off?". Looking up at her I shrugged my shoulders and stated "It came that way." and continued on my way. From the rearview mirror I could see her stewing in her car, waving her fist at me again while shaking her head in frustration from side to side. My living lord this must really be bothering her.

Think about it. We live in a city. With lots of people. These people own cars. Cars have security systems. They are disengaged all the time and make little beeping sounds. I've even heard other car alarms on my street. Face it, CBBL is a nutter. Hopefully she will find something else soon to occupy her time.

On a musical note, I have lost my studio space for my drums. The band which hooked me up could no longer afford the rent so they were removed and brought home yesterday. It's sad to see them sit in the corner knowing it's not possible to play them. (The neighbor downstairs is clearly not down with that and make this very obvious with notes of his own which were even worse than the CBBL.) Until I find a new space they will just have to remain unplayed. Guess becoming the next John Bonham will have to wait.