When You Most Expect It

Something that I've over and over again since being re-single is that "love comes when you least expect it."  The more I hear it, the more annoyed I become with the phrase.  Like, REALLY annoyed.   As in, don't ever say that to me or you might get a combo side-eye, duck lip face back at you.  You're meaning to say that if I simply let go (and let God) that love will somehow find me?  *gasp*  Is it that simple?  And here I was, making it ever so complicated.

I don't think this turn of phrase is accurate.  Let me tell you why.

Sure, finding love is can be hard and complicated, but, much like anything you want to be successful at, getting into a successful relationship involves work.  Let's be honest here - you can't just sit on your couch, eat ice cream, watch repeats of all the Real Housewives franchises (i.e. my Monday nights) and expect to find love.  You have to put yourself out there, in whatever capacity that is.  And it doesn't mean there isn't an expectation of love necessarily, it's simply a willingness to allow yourself to believe in love and attempt to experience it. 

So, what does that look like?  Maybe it means you're seeking love out.  Maybe it means that you are going on dates.  Maybe it's putting a profile up on a dating website. Maybe it's letting your friends know that you're ready to meet someone.  Maybe it means that you don't shy away from talking to that cutie across the room. 

Maybe it means you try.

Don't get me wrong, I understand the idea behind the phrase.  If you are constantly looking for someone to fill a void, the right person doesn't seem to appear.  Conversely, if you fill your life with other things like friends, family, or hobbies, you find that you don't need a relationship to feel fulfilled.  Sometimes, love comes in a package you weren't anticipating. That's truth.  

But here's a critical point I feel is missing from this harsh phrase:  I think that with the self-assurance of not needing a partner comes a confidence that is exceedingly attractive.  You're focused on yourself and your happiness - you don't need someone else to provide that for you.  That's sexy.  That takes the pressure off of someone you date.  They see that as a sign of self-reliance and want to be a part of what your already full life.  

What you shouldn't expect is for Cupid to drop the love of your life at your front door.  You shouldn't expect love to come out of every date or every person you meet.  You shouldn't expect love to make you complete.

Love comes when it comes. It can blindside you or you can see it coming right for you.  It's unpredictable - that's why love is so great.

So, go ahead and expect love.  It'll come, if you're ready.

~j  

The World Wide Dating Web

I've got to confess something to you guys - I have delved into the world of online dating.  I'm taking it seriously too.  There are so many reasons behind it, but I think the simplest of those is the fact that I just don't meet very many new people.  Of those I do meet, only a small portion of those are guys, and of those, an even smaller portion are single.  I needed a bigger pond from which to fish.  Building a profile on a trusted site was easy and made me take a step of my ever-narrowing comfort zone.

This whole online dating thing is kinda crazy.  At first, I was super overwhelmed.  THERE ARE SO MANY GUYS! AND THEY ARE ALL SINGLE!  You have to sift through so much information looking for a suitable match.  (By the way, people really put a lot of information in their little profiles - but that is totally helpful.  You find out a lot of stuff and get a feeling for their personality.)

Once you have somehow located someone you are remotely interested in, you send them a message.  Then you wait.  If you're lucky, you may get a message back.  Then whole back and forth communication starts and you're trying to be the best version of yourself, but somehow you find your dorky little habits creeping in.  And if you're super lucky, you might actually get a date.

There are plenty of downsides though.  See the thing is, you can see people who view your profile.  So, these are guys who looked at the pictures you've painstakingly cropped and the answers to questions you spent an afternoon pouring over, choosing just the right words and decided, "Nah."  I'm okay with it, but I'd rather not even see that part.  I don't really need to know that.  I really could go the rest of my life and not see who's 'viewed me.' Truly.

What's even worse than that is when someone blocks you and you haven't even spoken to them.  So, not only can I see that you have viewed me, but then it's followed up by a block.  A definitive statement that says, "I no likey you."  They could simply just overlook me, but they wanted to make sure I was out of their match zone.  Harsh.  In the end, I don't really care, because they are clearly not the person I'm supposed to end up with, but it is a little shock to the ego, you know?

Then there are those guys you see and think, "WOWZA, he's great!," and send a message, but that message never gets answered.  Or you're talking to someone and then the messages just stop - after which you're left to contemplate where exactly you went wrong.  An internal conversation like this usually happens after: 'What did I say?  Was it my extended speech on the quality of programs on PBS and AMC?  Or maybe it was my habit of using already overused catch-phrases? I would ask, but we all know I'm not going to do that.  Blerg.'

Even with all those negatives, online dating simplifies everything in general.  You don't have to ask yourself if someone you just met thinks you're dateable.  If someone is interested, it's uncomplicated: he just send me a little message.  If he doesn't, at least I haven't spent countless hours of my life (and my friend's lives, recounting stories to them) wondering if he 'like likes' me.  It's non-confrontational, informal and laid back.  I kind like/love it.

Also, I'm sure it's going to give me great stories for the blog.  You're welcome in advance.

~j

The Chicken Dance

The Cubs are in town, which means I headed out to the ballpark to attempt to get Darwin Barney to notice me (and, also, to watch some mediocre baseball).  My friend Dennis was sweet enough to buy the tickets as an early birthday gift.  He also told me that he had a little something else for me.  I thought going to the game was more than enough, but he insisted that I was going to LOVE it.  Far be it from me to refuse a gift!

I got to the game and he handed me my present.  It could go down as the best present ever.

It was about 100 of these:

Excuse the poor picture quality, will you?


The card, obviously, has my name and phone number on it.  The idea is that if I think someone is interesting enough (read: cute or any adjectives similar to cute), I'll walk up and give it to them.  This is a great idea, in theory.  Occasionally, I see someone I think is worth a chance, but I don't have time (or the nerve) to talk to them.  This is a funny and clever way to put myself out there.  I liked it!

I liked it in theory, that is.

You see, friends, the fact is that I'm a chicken.  I wasn't able to give my card to ONE guy yesterday.  There was a guy sitting in the row in front of us, who laughed at everything I was saying.  (*Tangent* Typically, I would think his eavesdropping to be creepy, but we ALL know how loud I can be in public.  He probably couldn't help but overhear me and my humorous musings.)  Clearly, he was charmed by me - let's be honest, who isn't? (Don't answer that.) - but I couldn't bring myself to give him one of the cards.

I just didn't have it in me to pass him the card.  I was so nervous, my hand was shaking.  My number is on this thing!  What if he didn't text or call?  I would be disappointed.  If I can't give away a single card, what am I going to do with 100 of them?!?

Reflecting on this later, I figure that if I were to give out ALL the cards, surely there would be at least a single guy who would be interested.  That's my shot: 1 in 100.  Those are worse stats than either the Astros or the Cubs have this season (or any season), and that is saying quite a bit.  But, even then, all I need in my life is one dude, right?  And if they like my gall and see the humor in the card, then they kind of get me already. 

Is handing out the cards worth the risk?  Possibly.  Kim Kardashian or Winston Churchill (or someone equally important) said, "Without risk, there is no reward." 

Maybe the reward is learning how to take a harmless chance. 
Maybe it'll make me more adventurous.
Or maybe someone will call me. 

Maybe?

~J

Is It That Easy?

Almost four weeks ago:

I was at a red light and had the windows down to let the hot, stale air escape.  I was stuck in a little traffic.  I was singing to myself, as per usual.  I looked to my left and this pretty cute guy was looking at me smiling.  Naturally, I assumed it was because I was a dork and was completely butchering that stupid "Call Me Maybe" song. 

He shouted out, "Hey, let me get your number. I think I want to get to know you." 

I did and I thought, "Whoa.  Did that really just happen?"

Traffic moved and life went on.

Present day:

While I've texted back and forth a few times with Traffic Guy, nothing has really come of it, but that's okay because something important came out of our interaction.

A random guy asked for my number and I gave it to him.  It was simple.  It was hassle-free.  It was worry-free.  It was...great.

Is it always that easy?  It doesn't have to be an epic struggle of wills?  You don't have to worry about saying the right things?  Or wear an outfit that makes you look both thin and somehow like you didn't spend 1 hour and 45 minutes deciding on it?  Or become totally Woody Allen level neurotic and overthink everything?  Have I been going at this the wrong way this whole time?

I didn't have to do anything but be willing to put myself out there, just a little.  I was totally myself and this guy was still, beyond my own comprehension, interested.  It's not that I'm not myself when I meet guys, but I do tone down my innate goofiness/immaturity.  What's the point in that?  A complete stranger became interested while I'm belting out the lyrics of a highly age inappropriate song with total disregard of how I look to others. 

I can be me, the real me, and some guys will actually like that? Mind-boggling.  Why did it take me this long to figure that out?

~j

Running Is a Four Letter Word

Over the past three years or so, I started really running.  Now, I want to make it clear that I do not like running.  Running, in return, does not like me.  This girl is not made for running.  I am made for stationary activities, like being the catcher on the softball team or crocheting or blogging.  I keep running though because its a healthy activity, gets me out of the house and because I look good in running clothes.  (Also because I can brag about running - don't act like you don't do it too.)

To the point of today's story - one of my friends told me that I was missing some not-so-obvious places where I could meet men.  (Sidenote:  Did you know that single men frequent sports bars?  I had no idea, but thanks, pal, for letting me know that one. *insert sarcasm here*)  She told me that there were all kinds of single dudes running all over certain parts of the city.  All I needed to do was go to one of those places, attempt not to run like someone was chasing me or like I was having a seizure and surely I would see some good candidates.

Going to any place, even just the park, just to parade around in hopes that maybe some guy would notice me isn't appealing to me at all.  I wouldn't normally even consider it as an option, but I decided when I started writing this thing I was going to try things I hadn't done - you know for research.  Yeah, that's it.  It had nothing to do with the hundreds of attractive, shirtless men that jog around the most popular trails in the city.  Nothing to do with that.  At all.
 
Yesterday after children's choir at church, I decided I would go to one of these hotbeds and see what there was to see.  What ended up happening wasn't pretty.  I guess in all my planning, I didn't realize how aggressive some of these runners are.  There are a few people who are like me, running for the sake of exercise, but there are some INTENSE, hardcore runners out there.  If you know me, you know I'm competitive and so I ended up running way faster than I'm used to because I was trying to prove myself.   

Here's an important fact: when I really workout I turn red.  Like, bright red. 

So, here I was running like I was on fire, turning the color of a human beet, sweating - which caused my mascara to start running and gasping for breath.  Woo!  What a treasure I must have looked like, huh?  I probably resembled a sunburned raccoon, racing away from a predator.

In the middle of all this, there was a guy who I passed, then passed me and I eventually passed again.  My brain finally switched on - hello!  He could be flirting!  He could like the sunburned raccoon look!  Get it together girl! 

He started pulling away from me, so I naturally picked up my pace.  I kept up for a while, even though all the air was being sucked from my lungs and my brain was beginning to suffer from oxygen deprivation.  He looked back a couple of times and I did the whole, "I'm not looking at you, I'm looking though you" thing.  At this point, my body was saying "STOP!  We can't do this anymore!  Don't you remember we had Long John Silver's for lunch!?!!" 

Then my hip gave out.  I had to stop cold and stretch it and away went the Running Man. 

So long, Running Man.  Thanks for the memories.