I’m trying to do anything I can these days, whenever I’m away from work, to get my mind off work. The intensity of each workday right now makes that rather difficult.
So, it was with some sense of delight, recently, when I discovered a “wink” in my home email, from an East Bay woman who found my profile on match.com.
Yes, in case you didn’t know…I have a personal-ad profile listed online. And I’ve been involved, off and on, in the virtual dating world for quite some time now.
Years, actually. (Ah, the stories I could tell!)
Now, usually, I don’t respond to mere “winks” – much preferring someone who is drawn to my profile enough to write me a full (even if brief) message. But this time, for whatever reason, I wrote a short little note back – and after a couple of emails, we decided to meet for tea at an East Bay Starbucks last Sunday.
In short: it was wonderful. We talked for little over an hour and things went very smoothly, I thought. As we parted, she invited me to call or email her.
Which I did, a few hours later. I sent her an email indicating that I was “interested” and: could we get together again?
The answer: no thanks. “The chemistry just wasn’t there. So sorry about that.”
Isn’t it strange how rejection from someone I don’t even really know can still have such yucky feelings associated with it?
I hadn’t put myself out there like that for anyone in a long time. I guess I need to get more practiced, and thicker-skinned.
Maybe I’ll wink at somebody myself tonight. I really do need to get out more.
Soundtrack Suggestion
Another aeroplane Another sunny place I’m lucky, I know But I wanna go home Mmmm, I’ve got to go home
The daughter I never had lives in Eugene; she’s part of my “Oregon family.” I’ve known this young woman since she was a rebellious adolescent, though, in the present day, she’s an incredibly mature and talented, 27-year-old married college graduate who has two delightful kids herself (one of them little Gracie).
The absolute, without-a-doubt, best part of my existence the past two Christmas seasons has been the opportunity I’ve had to support and encourage “B’s” interest in photography. Last year, it took the form of proposing the idea to her (real) parents that we split the cost of purchasing a digital SLR camera for her holiday gift. The proposal was enthusiastically accepted and, incredibly, I was the one lucky enough to accompany her to the store when we picked up the camera. As we exited the store, she was smiling hugely while she gushed, “this is the best Christmas ever!”
She’s now had a full year with that particular piece of equipment, and has reportedly loved every minute of it. Late this year she purchased another lens for her system, indicating that she was ready, perhaps, to move up a notch in the technology hierarchy. So, this holiday season, as we talked about her wants and needs via email, I offered to sell her, at a hugely discounted price, my current digital SLR. It’s a camera body that’s still being manufactured, only nine months old, under warranty, and little-used by me this year due to a scarcity of personal time (what with all the changes I’ve made in my life recently). This year’s proposal also became a reality and she’s had the camera a little over a week now…luckily I was able to get it packed up and shipped out in time for Christmas. She’s currently busily, and happily, snapping away with this more ambitious piece of equipment.
I’ve teased her about her newly-acquired “addiction” and advised her of the dangers of said Nikon Acquisition Syndrome (NAS)…though I suspect she has not, yet, caught on to the full implications of my warnings. Still, I’ve told her, regarding NAS: there are many more dangerous and terrible maladies in this lifetime.
For me, I hope to get “out there” this year and produce many more photographs than I have in the last few months. That is, perhaps, my number-one ambition. (Thank goodness: it appears that I’ll not be engaged in a job search during 2008!) To support my goal, I’ve taken a couple of photographic steps myself lately. First, I’ve placed an order for the newly-introduced Nikon D300 (see the video below), just out in November to rave reviews, and currently in short supply. (I’ll be getting this camera body when my number comes up in the ordering queue.) Second, I’ve signed up for another full-day session at Nikon School. Hence, on January 27, I’ll be over in Berkeley, sitting a dark room with a few hundred other Nikon nuts, learning more about digital photography. And expecting to be inspired.
If this season is thinking about people you love, and making some plans for the future…well, I guess maybe there’s been a little of the holiday cheer for me this year after all.
Soundtrack Suggestion
Ev’ry time i see your face, It reminds me of the places we used to go. But all i got is a photograph And i realise you’re not coming back anymore.
Dan Burns (played by Steve Carell) writes a daily newspaper advice column entitled “Dan in Real Life.” He’s a widower and the anxious, overprotective father of three daughters. The wisdom about love and life he offers up to his readers apparently comes from a voice within that he is able to transmit but cannot really hear himself. The morning after he and the kids show up at his parents’ (Dianne Wiest and John Mahoney) beach house for a holiday, family-reunion-type weekend, his mother immediately orders him to go out and “buy the papers” — and take some time away from his daughters who are obviously exasperated with their totally-not-so-cool dad.
It’s in a used-book store, where Dan decides to buy the morning newspaper, that he meets Marie (Juliette Binoche). Marie is obviously in the midst of some kind of minor personal crisis and she “needs a book” to get her through. She asks Dan for some help thinking that he’s an employee there. Although amusing and obliging, he eventually gets busted as just another customer. After asking Marie if he can make it up to her, Dan, in the initial stages of infatuation, spends a good portion of the rest of the morning telling her his life story.
It’s only when she eventually gets called away, and he returns back to the beach house, that he learns this “hottie” he’s found is the new girlfriend of his brother Mitch (Dane Cook). And that this weekend is to be her induction into the family.
The rest of the movie, Dan in Real Life, is spent illustrating the myriad awkward (some hilarious, some touching) moments that arise when, in the middle of this intimate family gathering, Dan and Marie work through their mutual-attraction issues.
This is a romantic comedy, of course, so it’s a happy ending. And while the outcome is entirely predictable, I recommend that you, too, see this movie. Treat yourself: escape for awhile and vicariously experience some of those giddy, beginning-of-a-relationship feelings.
So here’s why I mention any of this…
I believe this film reinforces one of life’s basic truisms. Namely: you just never know. For there you are, completely minding your own business and, wham (!), for better or worse, you turn a corner (or enter a bookstore) and your entire life changes. Further, while you can make plans for your time here on earth, the advice remains: expect the unexpected.
“…the only thing you can truly plan on…is to be surprised.”
So: here I am, all moved in and headed in the direction of being “settled.” I’m almost two months into the new job, and I’m generally finding my way around Marin County better and better all the time.
I’ve actually had a little time here and there over these last two weekends to see that leisure time is once again an occasional possibility. I’ve polished off a couple of novels sitting outside in my new lounge chair — so it appears that the stressful overload of moving and totally changing my life is about to be a thing of the past. (That is to say, things will now likely settle into more manageable and normal levels of work and health-related stress.)
However, as the perpetual adrenaline rush associated with these last few months of frenzied activity goes away, I’m recognizing a feeling of being a little on edge. Actually, what I’m experiencing is a renewed sense of emptiness. For here I am, in a new state, in a new town, in a new job: completely alone.
The silence is eerie. The phone keeps not ringing. The space once occupied by best-friend Katrina is presently a void. Her unique ring tone goes unused and unheard. And, the presence of unstructured time allows for old and familiar emotions to creep in. Feelings of loss and sadness are now my constant companions.
Still, the (ten-year-old) question remains: is she gone forever this time?
Well, baby used to stay out all night long She made me cry, she done me wrong She hurt my eyes open, that’s no lie Tables turn and now her turn to cry
Because I used to love her, but it’s all over now Because I used to love her, but it’s all over now
Well, she used to run around with every man in town She spent all my money, playing her high class game She put me out, it was a pity how I cried Tables turn and now her turn to cry
Because I used to love her, but it’s all over now Because I used to love her, but it’s all over now
Well, I used to wake (in) the morning, get my breakfast in bed When I’d gotten worried she’d ease my aching head But now she’s here and there, with every man in town Still trying to take me for that same old clown
