Guy Unlikely

Just got home from a coffee date turned walking tour of downtown turned lunch date with Mr. Curls. It's surprising to me how well we mesh, how much our life philosophies, etc. are in synch, and how easily he can make me laugh. The more I get to know him, the more I like him. That hardly ever happens. It's amazing.

I don't want to get ahead of myself with this, but I'm feeling more right about him than I've felt about any guy since my ex-fiance.

Today he confessed that he really hates his curly hair. Ironic ;) Just goes to show that sometimes there are features we don't necessarily like about ourselves which other people adore about us. Remember that the next time you're getting down on yourself about something.

While I don't want to get ahead of myself, I do think it's safe to relax into the situation and just enjoy how much I enjoy seeing him.

I've got to say I'm really glad of my puppy crush on Bartender Guy, 'cause without it, I think it's highly unlikely that I'd have stumbled onto Mr. Curls, and that would have been unfortunate.

Guy-Induced Insomnia

We all have our hang ups and things that make us nervous. For me, the prospect of getting in between two undergrad boys who are about to punch each other is no big deal. I can be calm in situations like that. But, give me a guy who wants to take me to dinner and I am a seething mass of anxiety.

There isn't much that keeps me up a night, but the idea of a real life guy who wants to date me gives me a nervous break down. With a guy like Army Guy, I laid awake worrying about whether or not I should be impulsive and whether or not he was going to call again. With Comic Book Guy and Radio Guy I laid awake worrying about whether or not I was interested in them, and whether or not I was being fair when I decided I didn't. Then I worried how to break it off.

Now I have Mr. Curls to worry about. He called tonight to ask me if I was free this weekend. Good, right? Tonight I went to bed and stared at the ceiling for half an hour stressing out. Talk about classic neurosis.

I like him, which is good. He likes me, which is also good. Except, he seems to really like me, which freaks me out. Thanks, insecurity, for that one. Insecurity and cynicism say to me that any guy who likes me this much this fast must have something wrong with him. The rational part of me knows that's a terrible thing to think. The rational part of me says, "Duh, having a guy you like think you're great is a good thing."

But, it's not the rational part that makes it hard to sleep.

Sushi and Vampires

I went out with Mr. Curls last night and had a very good time. We had dinner at a sushi place, killed some time at the book store where a friend of mine works (she sent me a "so, what's the scoop?" e-mail as soon as she got off work), then went to the theater to watch Daybreakers. I know a gruesome vampire flick might not be everyone's idea of a date movie, but when he suggested a movie, that's the one that I really wanted to see.

Anyhow, back to the date. I picked the movie and he picked the restaurant, which was nice because the last few dates I went on were ones where the guy said, "um, what do you want to do?" so going out with someone who wasn't so afraid of choosing something I wouldn't like that he didn't choose anything at all was good. The restaurant was good, and talking with Mr. Curls was enjoyable, and as he relaxed, a very playful side of him came out and I'm a sucker for a guy who doesn't mind being a little silly every now and again.

This morning I'm all smitten and the typical smileyness that comes after a date that went well. My first impressions of this guy are good. I'm cautious still, but so far he's a lot like the kind of guy I've thought would be right for me. He's a balance of confident and considerate, smart and playful, etc. etc. He's earnest like Comic Book Guy and Radio Guy, but more adventurous like Army Guy.

I quite like this random guy I met at a bar. Go figure.

The Curly-Haired Stranger

I went to my bar last night because I thought they were having a band and I thought my bartender crush would be there. Turns out I was mistaken on both counts, but as soon as I walked in I spotted a few of the regulars I used to know as well as a bartender I used to work with, so I hunkered down at the end of the bar, a young gal surrounded by old men. We had a good chat.

Later, once the men had left, I had the end of the bar pretty much to myself and I sipped a drink and did some writing in my notebook. Just as I was starting to feel disappointed that there was no band (nor my crush), a cute guy my age walked over to me. He was maybe around 5'7", slender, with glasses and curly brown hair.

Him: Do you work here?
Me: No.
Him: Oh, I just saw you writing and thought maybe you did.

Since I clearly was sitting, not wearing an apron or anything with the bar insignia, etc. I knew it was pretty obvious to anyone who was paying attention that I was not working. In the past, my reaction to his blunder would have been to blow him off, but I'm being more social these days, nicer, right? So, instead I just smiled. After all, it was pretty clear that the point of the question was not the answer itself, but to start talking to me, so what he said was less important than the fact that he said something.

Him: So what are you writing?
Me: I'm working on a short story.
Him: Really? That's cool. I've got a novel I've been trying to finish for about two years now.

That was soon followed by, "You mind if I sit down?" Then his buddy came over and he told the buddy, "I'll meet up with you there."

That's when I thought to myself that, for the first time in my life, I was actually being picked up in a bar. We sat and talked for over an hour, finding out that we actually have a lot of things in common. The night ended with an exchange of numbers and an invitation to see a movie.

All this effort with the going out in public and being social, and I actually met a guy. Even if it goes no further, I've got to say it was nice to get chatted up last night, especially since I think I could genuinely get along with him. And, did I mention the curls?

In pursuit of my crush on the bartender, I ended up with a date with another guy. That's funny.

Student Barometer

Tonight was my last first day of class. It's bizarre having such a late schedule. I'm used to starting with an 8 a.m. or 9 a.m. class, but this semester my earliest class is at 3:30, and my other two are night classes that go from 5:30-8:30. All three are the same course and it's one I haven't taught before, so this is the semester of newness.

Now that I've met all three classes, I'm able to relax a bit. I've met the students, learned their names, and gotten the general class personality of each. Now I know what to expect. Now I know which students I should keep my eye on in case they become problematic.

It's exhausting, this first part. Wears me right out.

Tonight I had an older student ask me how long I've been teaching at this university. If he was braver, he would have just come right out and asked me how old I am. Yup, I think he's going to be that guy.

I was very entertained later during the break when I heard that guy's buddy ask one of the gals in class how old she thought the guy was.

Without missing a beat, she said, "Twelve."

I think I just found a new favorite student.

Job Hunting With Renewed Vigor

There are few things more motivating to get a new job than returning to the old one. Thursday was the day of pre-semester meetings and a reminder of why, at the end of the day, I'm not satisfied being an adjunct. The bottom line: I get paid a laughably small amount of money, I have no benefits or job security, and the current department make up is heavy with favoritism and (big surprise) I'm not one of the favorites.

I like a lot of things about being an adjunct and I genuinely have fun teaching. Also, it's a great job to have when you're still taking classes. It's just that when I look at the cost/benefits break down of it all, relative to the potential of promotion/teaching more classes, the result is that I need a different job.

Today I'm working on my application materials for one job. There's another job that's being created through the local YWCA that I'm going to apply for once it's official - bonus: a good friend knows the guy who's setting up the new job, so I've got an in through her. Also, I'm keeping my eyes peeled & searching websites for anything else that might be promising.

The extra bonus is that my teaching schedule this semester is evening-heavy since two of my classes are night classes and the third is a 3:30-5:00 class. That leaves the bulk of my days open, which is conveniently conducive to getting started with a new job even before the semester is over.

Now I just have to go through all the hoops & inevitable rejection that a job search entails. Whoo-hoo! Thankfully, I have a lot right now to remind me of why I'm doing it.

Yeah, 'Cause There's No Way This Could Go Badly...

My mom has decided she wants to be a better person. She's decided that I need to help her. My role in the mother fixer-upper project? She wants me to critique her.

Mom: Tell me what I can change about myself.
Me: ...
Mom: I can't get better if I don't know what I need to change.
Me: I'm really not comfortable with this.
Mom: Why not?
Me: Nobody likes to be criticized.
Mom: But you have to tell me.

That's right, ladies and gentlemen. I tried to get out of it gracefully, but she's not going to let it go. The only way I'm going to make my mom happy is if I make a list of personality traits she has that I don't like (let's start that list with being pushy, shall we?).

I'm all about striving to be a better person, I really am, but I'm the daughter, not the therapist. Getting involved here makes me way uncomfortable. The worst part is, I know I have to do something - something to make it clear that I love her, but I'm not getting involved in this particular project - because she is not going to let it go.

Size 6

I had to buy some new jeans the other day because my size 8s are now too big. It's cool to have a tangible sign that all my work at the gym is paying off.

Boring Job Retirement

On my last day of the boring job, I finally met my boss in person. She came by the store where I was working and didn't tell me she was coming, so I was totally surprised when she showed up. She was perfectly pleasant and had made the 2 hour drive for other business, but swung by to say hello and ask me how I liked the job. "It's nice to have a change of pace," I said, aiming for that fine line between honesty and too much honesty.

"Well, if we pick this area up again, I'll give you a call."

I nodded, smiled, said it was nice to meet her face-to-face, all the while thinking how strange it was that it was only when I had about three hours of my last shift left that I finally met her. Seems backwards, doesn't it?

It was an interesting experience, but one I'm far from eager to repeat. I'm pleased to have the extra cash, and now have one more entry on the list of stuff I don't want to do for a living.

The Small Town-ness Of It All

I didn't feel like going out last night, but I did it anyway 'cause that's how you avoid being a hermit, right? Besides, even though I went alone, I was bound to run into somebody. In fact, I ran into a few somebodies.

There was the regular who drinks scotch and soda tall - he's the father of a girl I used to be friends with in elementary school. There was the guy in the band who's married to a gal I met as an undergrad and work with now. There was the regular who tells me politically incorrect jokes that always make me giggle. The gal who does my hair was there for her boyfriend who's in the band. My bartender crush was there, too, as the sound guy for the band. Sadly, as far as I can tell, he doesn't even know I exist.

Then, too, there was the gossip. Politically incorrect guy is a couple years younger than me, Hispanic, and has the most gorgeous cheekbones you've ever seen. He's also one of the few people I've known who I'd describe as melancholy. He's got a girlfriend now - a cougar gal who's about a decade older than him.

Later on, while I was sitting with hairdresser gal and percussionist guy, a couple walked past.
HG: That dude is drunk.
PG: Very drunk. And that gal is Bartender guy's ex.

Of course, I couldn't keep my ears from perking up. There wasn't much else said, but a little while later, the ex went over to talk to Bartender guy. It's always strange seeing the second person in a couple after you've met the first. The gal's in her late twenties, blond, pretty and heavy set. It was a nice reminder, in a culture that's so obsessed with tiny gals, to see her next to skinny Bartender guy. Yeah, they're broken up, but you have to date somebody before they can become your ex. There was something there, once, and it wasn't there because she's a twig.

I didn't get a kiss to ring in the new year, but I did get a bit of champagne, some laughs, and a few hugs. Not too shabby, I think.