With respect to Amanda's privacy, I don't want to get detailed here, but she's having a really hard time right now. She's in a place she hates, far removed from people she cares about, in danger of losing her job because of budget cuts, and her marriage is rocky from a combination of recent and long-term issues. In a nutshell, everything is piling up against her and I hate that she's so far away that I can't even do something with her to try and cheer her up. It's hard to do lunch from 1,600 miles away.
I'm really worried about her right now. Especially after last night. Yesterday I was feeling sick and, after offering to go on a soup run, Mr. Curls came over to watch a movie with me. At a little after ten, my phone rang. Nobody calls me that late, and when I saw it was Amanda, I excused myself to answer because late phone calls never bode well.
"Hey," I said. "What's up?"
She made a noncommittal, unhappy sound. "What are you doing?"
"Watching a movie with Mr. Curls, but since you're calling late, I wanted to make sure to answer in case something's wrong. Are you okay?"
"Not really, but you're busy. Go watch your movie. We'll talk tomorrow."
"Are you sure? I'm worried about you."
"I'm sure. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Okay. We'll talk tomorrow."
When I went back to the living room, Mr. Curls looked up from the couch. "Is everything okay?"
"Not really." I told him a little about what Amanda's going through right now.
"If you need to call her back, I understand. I can go. It's no problem."
I considered it. If I hadn't been feeling so under the weather and tired, I probably would have taken him up on it. But, I wasn't going to be much use in the state I was in, and I wanted to wait and talk with her when I could be more awake.
"It's okay. I'm going to talk with her tomorrow, when I'm less out of it." I sighed. "I just hate being so far away from her right now. I feel so useless."
"You're not. It may not seem like much, but just hearing a friendly voice, talking with a positive person, can really help."
(Score another point for Mr. Curls in the "keeper" column. He understands. He's been there. I wonder who the person he called was. My ex was either disinterested in or, later on, negative about my friends. Mr. Curls' attitude about the people who are important to me is a complete 180. It's something I really appreciate about him.)
I called Amanda first thing after I woke up this morning since I know she gets up earlier than I do. She was already out and about it seems. I got voice mail. Damn it. Tired, sick, and loopy or not, I should have talked with her last night.
I wish life was easier for her right now. I wish her husband was treating her better. I wish she wasn't so far away. I wish there was more I could do. Fucking 1,600 miles.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
The Tipping Point
Ever since I started seeing Mr. Curls, I've been waiting for the moment. From the moment he started talking to me at the bar, I've been waiting for that voice inside my head to scream, "run!"
I waited for it through our first few dates. I waited for it when he told me about the exes and kids. I waited for it the first time we slept together, and on and on. I kept waiting, and it didn't come. I expected it, because any time I get involved with a guy, any time I feel like I could really fall for someone, a piece of me gets terrified. During the beginning of my relationship with my ex, right after the first time we kissed, I heard that voice.
So, after all this time, with Mr. Curls, I've been waiting for it. When it didn't speak up all those times I thought it would, I wondered what was going on. "What the hell?" I thought. "How am I not freaking? I should be freaking. I have every reason to be having a panic attack. Where is it?" I mean, come on, all that baggage and I hardly batted an eye. What gives?
Turns out, it was just a matter of having the right trigger. The other day, at the wedding, I was standing at the driver's side of his jeep while Mr. Curls got his nice shoes on and I saw a pack of cigarettes on the door. I'd noticed a thing or two, like that stale smoke smell in his apartment, but had chalked it up to previous tenant because in all the time we've spent together, he's never taken a smoke break. So, I assumed non-smoker. When I asked him about it later, he got uncomfortable and said he's trying to quit. He's ashamed of the nicotine habit, but he's got one nonetheless.
Cue the voice. The whole time I was growing up, my mom smoked. I hated it and the smoke was so... oppressive and inescapable. Second hand smoke is something I have a strong, visceral revulsion to. Everything else I've taken in stride. Ex-wives? Okay. Kids? Okay. But, a few cigarettes and all I could think was, "I can't take this!" That's when I had my first thoughts about whether or not Mr. Curls was more than I could handle. That's when I had my first thoughts of, "How do I tell him it's over?"
I know, of all things, it may seem strange that that's my tipping point. The thing is, I'm glad for it. I recognize that moment for what it was, panic. At the same time, it was a reality check. It's the first official thing that I dislike about him. My whole thing so far has been that, while I'm not such a huge fan of some of his circumstances, I'm awful impressed by the guy himself. Except this. This I hate.
Up until now, I've been going along, believing that Mr. Curls could very well be my long-haul guy. Now I have doubt. Not that I want to call it off right now, but the rosy glasses are gone. Damn it. The smoking thing is typically one of the few hard-fast deal-breakers I have, but it's too late for that. At this point, it's too complicated for easy distinctions.
That's the annoying thing about relationships. They're complicated. My life would be so much simpler right now if I had stayed home from the bar that night. Such a little thing, the decision to walk out the door, but boy, look at the ripples.
I waited for it through our first few dates. I waited for it when he told me about the exes and kids. I waited for it the first time we slept together, and on and on. I kept waiting, and it didn't come. I expected it, because any time I get involved with a guy, any time I feel like I could really fall for someone, a piece of me gets terrified. During the beginning of my relationship with my ex, right after the first time we kissed, I heard that voice.
So, after all this time, with Mr. Curls, I've been waiting for it. When it didn't speak up all those times I thought it would, I wondered what was going on. "What the hell?" I thought. "How am I not freaking? I should be freaking. I have every reason to be having a panic attack. Where is it?" I mean, come on, all that baggage and I hardly batted an eye. What gives?
Turns out, it was just a matter of having the right trigger. The other day, at the wedding, I was standing at the driver's side of his jeep while Mr. Curls got his nice shoes on and I saw a pack of cigarettes on the door. I'd noticed a thing or two, like that stale smoke smell in his apartment, but had chalked it up to previous tenant because in all the time we've spent together, he's never taken a smoke break. So, I assumed non-smoker. When I asked him about it later, he got uncomfortable and said he's trying to quit. He's ashamed of the nicotine habit, but he's got one nonetheless.
Cue the voice. The whole time I was growing up, my mom smoked. I hated it and the smoke was so... oppressive and inescapable. Second hand smoke is something I have a strong, visceral revulsion to. Everything else I've taken in stride. Ex-wives? Okay. Kids? Okay. But, a few cigarettes and all I could think was, "I can't take this!" That's when I had my first thoughts about whether or not Mr. Curls was more than I could handle. That's when I had my first thoughts of, "How do I tell him it's over?"
I know, of all things, it may seem strange that that's my tipping point. The thing is, I'm glad for it. I recognize that moment for what it was, panic. At the same time, it was a reality check. It's the first official thing that I dislike about him. My whole thing so far has been that, while I'm not such a huge fan of some of his circumstances, I'm awful impressed by the guy himself. Except this. This I hate.
Up until now, I've been going along, believing that Mr. Curls could very well be my long-haul guy. Now I have doubt. Not that I want to call it off right now, but the rosy glasses are gone. Damn it. The smoking thing is typically one of the few hard-fast deal-breakers I have, but it's too late for that. At this point, it's too complicated for easy distinctions.
That's the annoying thing about relationships. They're complicated. My life would be so much simpler right now if I had stayed home from the bar that night. Such a little thing, the decision to walk out the door, but boy, look at the ripples.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
The Wedding
I met Mr. Curls at the courthouse, then we waited for everyone else to arrive. He and I got there first, the groom got there late, and everyone else was somewhere in between. I got to meet a handful of people that have known him for forever, including his "sister" who was very much the way I had pictured her - a lovely lady who's also very much a lady in charge. I also got to meet her mom, who's known Mr. Curls since he was born and is, as a result, rather protective of him.
After we were introduced, she smiled at me. "I'm so glad he found a nice woman." She shook her head, regretfully, "I don't know what he was thinking when he married the last one." So I got her official stamp of approval.
It was an adventure to be "the new girlfriend" at the wedding. Lots of "I've heard a lot about you" and looks that, while friendly, were also doing the math on whether or not I was okay. Everyone was pleasant to me, though with the wedding, they were also pretty focused on the event itself rather than me. I didn't get to know everyone as much as I would have liked to, but I did get a pretty solid impression. Mr. Curls' circle are all right people who keep an eye out for him and seem to think I'm okay. Cheers for that.
He and I took separate cars 'cause it was logistically impossible for me to climb into his Jeep while wearing a skirt. So, on the way out of the reception, as I was getting into my car, I saw one of his old friends walking to her car. She looked over, saw she could nab him while alone for a minute, and B-lined over to get the scoop.
In other news, I wondered if it'd feel weird to be at the wedding with the currently-in-the-middle-of-a-divorce Mr. Curls. I have to say, for the most part, I didn't think of it at all. No weirdness. Mostly, it was just nice to see two people get hitched and meet some of the people who are important to my guy.
After we were introduced, she smiled at me. "I'm so glad he found a nice woman." She shook her head, regretfully, "I don't know what he was thinking when he married the last one." So I got her official stamp of approval.
It was an adventure to be "the new girlfriend" at the wedding. Lots of "I've heard a lot about you" and looks that, while friendly, were also doing the math on whether or not I was okay. Everyone was pleasant to me, though with the wedding, they were also pretty focused on the event itself rather than me. I didn't get to know everyone as much as I would have liked to, but I did get a pretty solid impression. Mr. Curls' circle are all right people who keep an eye out for him and seem to think I'm okay. Cheers for that.
He and I took separate cars 'cause it was logistically impossible for me to climb into his Jeep while wearing a skirt. So, on the way out of the reception, as I was getting into my car, I saw one of his old friends walking to her car. She looked over, saw she could nab him while alone for a minute, and B-lined over to get the scoop.
In other news, I wondered if it'd feel weird to be at the wedding with the currently-in-the-middle-of-a-divorce Mr. Curls. I have to say, for the most part, I didn't think of it at all. No weirdness. Mostly, it was just nice to see two people get hitched and meet some of the people who are important to my guy.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Mr. Sleepy
Mr. Curls has to get up early for work. I've been keeping him up late a lot, and this weekend he had his boys. Put it all together, and when he came over Monday night, he was one tired guy. We ordered pizza, then hit the couch to watch TV for a bit. After the first episode of Firefly I asked him if he wanted to watch another.
He hesitated. On one hand, it was the perfect time to move things into the bedroom. On the other, the couch was cozy and he was worn out. For my part, I was kind of tired, too, and I was feeling in more of a cuddly than sexy mood. "How about another episode?" he said, finally.
He nodded off for a moment here and there and by the time the credits were rolling, he had us stretched out on the couch with his arm around me and his head on my shoulder. I ran my fingers through his hair. He sighed.
"I should let you go home and get some sleep," I said.
"Umm hmm," he said. "In a minute."
A while later, after he was awake again, he apologized for being such a boring date. I was quick to reassure him that he'd been a very good date indeed. Curling up on the couch together isn't sexy, but it is nice and warm and made me feel secure and relaxed.
With my ex, our libidos weren't in sync. Part of it was a control issue, too. To him, he saw it almost as, "What's the point of having a girlfriend if not easy, frequent sex?" He controlled our sex life and there were times when I felt more like a blow-up doll than a person. But, he'd insist that an active sex life was a sign of a healthy relationship. Except, quantity and quality are not the same thing and if he was just going to use me essentially to masturbate, that's not a relationship. Another reason why it's best he's the ex.
Since V-Day, every day Mr. Curls and I have seen each other, we've had sex. Monday night was the first night we didn't and I was a little relieved. Unlike with the ex, seeing me wasn't just about getting boned. Now, that's not to say that I want to make a habit out of it or anything, but it was nice to not have to. Nice for it to be valid to be happy with just cuddling on the couch.
Also, Mr. Curls is way cute when he's sleepy. Waking up, he can't open his eyes right away, his hair's all mussed, and he gets really smiley. I won't go on about it, 'cause all I'd say is that obnoxiously cutesy stuff that new couples say about each other. Suffice it to say, though, that it's nice to see him with his guard all the way down. Like with me, it's not something that happens all that often. I like when it happens around me.
He hesitated. On one hand, it was the perfect time to move things into the bedroom. On the other, the couch was cozy and he was worn out. For my part, I was kind of tired, too, and I was feeling in more of a cuddly than sexy mood. "How about another episode?" he said, finally.
He nodded off for a moment here and there and by the time the credits were rolling, he had us stretched out on the couch with his arm around me and his head on my shoulder. I ran my fingers through his hair. He sighed.
"I should let you go home and get some sleep," I said.
"Umm hmm," he said. "In a minute."
A while later, after he was awake again, he apologized for being such a boring date. I was quick to reassure him that he'd been a very good date indeed. Curling up on the couch together isn't sexy, but it is nice and warm and made me feel secure and relaxed.
With my ex, our libidos weren't in sync. Part of it was a control issue, too. To him, he saw it almost as, "What's the point of having a girlfriend if not easy, frequent sex?" He controlled our sex life and there were times when I felt more like a blow-up doll than a person. But, he'd insist that an active sex life was a sign of a healthy relationship. Except, quantity and quality are not the same thing and if he was just going to use me essentially to masturbate, that's not a relationship. Another reason why it's best he's the ex.
Since V-Day, every day Mr. Curls and I have seen each other, we've had sex. Monday night was the first night we didn't and I was a little relieved. Unlike with the ex, seeing me wasn't just about getting boned. Now, that's not to say that I want to make a habit out of it or anything, but it was nice to not have to. Nice for it to be valid to be happy with just cuddling on the couch.
Also, Mr. Curls is way cute when he's sleepy. Waking up, he can't open his eyes right away, his hair's all mussed, and he gets really smiley. I won't go on about it, 'cause all I'd say is that obnoxiously cutesy stuff that new couples say about each other. Suffice it to say, though, that it's nice to see him with his guard all the way down. Like with me, it's not something that happens all that often. I like when it happens around me.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
The Girlfriends' Verdict
Sunday night, I met up with two gal pals for dinner. Coincidentally, they're the two of my friends who've met Mr. Curls. Needless to say, it didn't take long at all before J. started to grill me.
"So," she said, ever-so-casually, "what's new with you?"
I told them how much I liked him and then I told them about the baggage. They were pretty impressed. "Wow," said D.
"Tell me about it."
J. thought about it for a while and shrugged. "We all make mistakes. I know how that goes. I mean, I already had my son and was going through my own divorce when my husband and I started dating."
D. chimed in, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "And we all know what a keeper my first husband was."
We all laughed. Then D. added, commenting on J.'s husband, "You know, Mr. Curls kind of reminds me of him." And that, that was the stamp of approval.
"So," she said, ever-so-casually, "what's new with you?"
I told them how much I liked him and then I told them about the baggage. They were pretty impressed. "Wow," said D.
"Tell me about it."
J. thought about it for a while and shrugged. "We all make mistakes. I know how that goes. I mean, I already had my son and was going through my own divorce when my husband and I started dating."
D. chimed in, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "And we all know what a keeper my first husband was."
We all laughed. Then D. added, commenting on J.'s husband, "You know, Mr. Curls kind of reminds me of him." And that, that was the stamp of approval.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Mom and Dad and Mr. Curls (Almost)
Saturday night my parents invited me to go to a play with them. They also asked me if Mr. Curls would like to join us. Since it's his weekend to have his sons, I told them he had another commitment. I knew they were curious for more detail than that, but I'd like them to meet him just on his own, sans baggage, and that's pretty much what I told them last night.
After the play, I called Mr. Curls and when I mentioned that he'd been invited, he paused.
"So, if this had been next weekend, when I didn't have the boys, would you have been okay with me coming along?"
"Of course. I'd have checked with you first, to make sure you were okay with it, but sure. If you would have wanted to come, I would have wanted you to."
"Really?"
"Really."
Up until then, I hadn't ever mentioned the idea of him meeting my folks. Meeting the parents is intimidating. I didn't want to push it. I figured it'd happen in its own time, so there was no rush. Also, I wanted to meet some of his circle before I threw more of mine at him.
Given his reaction, I wonder if he might've been thinking I just didn't want him to meet my folks. The truth is, I'd love for him to know my family. My parents are good people who've been through a rough patch or two of their own, so I'm confident that they'll see in him the good things I see and not just the complications. Besides, given everyone's respective personalities, I'm also confident that they'll really get along with him. Mom and Dad have definitely reached the point of being really curious about him. Mom's casual invitation for him to join us was my mom's way of saying, "We'd like to meet this guy for ourselves."
I'll talk it over with him and maybe next weekend I'll introduce them to each other. My mom will be thrilled. My dad will also be pleased, but in more of a getting the chance to do the threat assessment on his daughter's new guy kind of way. It's just too bad my brother's all the way out in Florida, 'cause I know he and Mr. Curls would hit it off right away.
After the play, I called Mr. Curls and when I mentioned that he'd been invited, he paused.
"So, if this had been next weekend, when I didn't have the boys, would you have been okay with me coming along?"
"Of course. I'd have checked with you first, to make sure you were okay with it, but sure. If you would have wanted to come, I would have wanted you to."
"Really?"
"Really."
Up until then, I hadn't ever mentioned the idea of him meeting my folks. Meeting the parents is intimidating. I didn't want to push it. I figured it'd happen in its own time, so there was no rush. Also, I wanted to meet some of his circle before I threw more of mine at him.
Given his reaction, I wonder if he might've been thinking I just didn't want him to meet my folks. The truth is, I'd love for him to know my family. My parents are good people who've been through a rough patch or two of their own, so I'm confident that they'll see in him the good things I see and not just the complications. Besides, given everyone's respective personalities, I'm also confident that they'll really get along with him. Mom and Dad have definitely reached the point of being really curious about him. Mom's casual invitation for him to join us was my mom's way of saying, "We'd like to meet this guy for ourselves."
I'll talk it over with him and maybe next weekend I'll introduce them to each other. My mom will be thrilled. My dad will also be pleased, but in more of a getting the chance to do the threat assessment on his daughter's new guy kind of way. It's just too bad my brother's all the way out in Florida, 'cause I know he and Mr. Curls would hit it off right away.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
*Cue Dramatic Music
A few days back, I was talking with my mom on the phone. While we were chatting, she says, oh-so-casually, "Has your brother called you?"
"Actually, he just tried while we were talking. I let it go to voicemail. What's up?"
"Oh, he just has a bit of maybe-good or maybe-bad news."
Immediately, I do "news" math. Mom's being cryptic and my brother, who never calls anybody, is trying to get a hold of me. What's the first thing that'd pop int YOUR head? "Well, mom. I better let you go and see if I can call him back."
I call. I get voicemail. Next I fire up my computer and go to Facebook, because his girlfriend is a Facebook fiend and if she's pregnant or she and my brother are engaged, I figure it's got to be plastered all over there by now. Especially, since she just had a status update about how her and my brother talked via webcam for the first time that day. I figure, a long-distance proposal by webcam could've happened. Nothing on the girlfriend's Facebook.
Logically, that made me think the news was something involving his pilot training for the Air Force. Maybe they'd found something in his physical or a test that made him ineligible for being a pilot.
The next day, at about five, my brother calls me. "So, mom says you have news."
He chuckled. Then his doorbell rang. "Oh, hey, I'm going to have to call you back."
It was perfect. Straight out of a sitcom. It took him an hour to call me back. An hour!
"Alright, brother, spill."
"Oh, about that. I'm selling my El Camino."
"What?"
"I guess that's the news mom was talking about. I'm selling my car."
"I'm gonna kill her. She gets me all worked up, for this? I'm gonna kill her."
Of course, by that point, my brother was laughing deep belly laughs. He thought it was hilarious. The reason he had to call me back was because someone had come to the house to look at the car. Someone who, a few days later, bought it.
Guess I'm not going to be an aunt, or a sister-in-law, quite yet. But, at least my brother's sold his car. 'Cause that's important to me.
"Actually, he just tried while we were talking. I let it go to voicemail. What's up?"
"Oh, he just has a bit of maybe-good or maybe-bad news."
Immediately, I do "news" math. Mom's being cryptic and my brother, who never calls anybody, is trying to get a hold of me. What's the first thing that'd pop int YOUR head? "Well, mom. I better let you go and see if I can call him back."
I call. I get voicemail. Next I fire up my computer and go to Facebook, because his girlfriend is a Facebook fiend and if she's pregnant or she and my brother are engaged, I figure it's got to be plastered all over there by now. Especially, since she just had a status update about how her and my brother talked via webcam for the first time that day. I figure, a long-distance proposal by webcam could've happened. Nothing on the girlfriend's Facebook.
Logically, that made me think the news was something involving his pilot training for the Air Force. Maybe they'd found something in his physical or a test that made him ineligible for being a pilot.
The next day, at about five, my brother calls me. "So, mom says you have news."
He chuckled. Then his doorbell rang. "Oh, hey, I'm going to have to call you back."
It was perfect. Straight out of a sitcom. It took him an hour to call me back. An hour!
"Alright, brother, spill."
"Oh, about that. I'm selling my El Camino."
"What?"
"I guess that's the news mom was talking about. I'm selling my car."
"I'm gonna kill her. She gets me all worked up, for this? I'm gonna kill her."
Of course, by that point, my brother was laughing deep belly laughs. He thought it was hilarious. The reason he had to call me back was because someone had come to the house to look at the car. Someone who, a few days later, bought it.
Guess I'm not going to be an aunt, or a sister-in-law, quite yet. But, at least my brother's sold his car. 'Cause that's important to me.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
A Wedding
Mr. Curls has a sister. Well, he calls her his sister, but she's really a really close friend. Their moms were best friends and so they've grown up together and have been calling each other siblings since forever.
"That's weird," I said to Amanda, a few days after meeting him. "I mean, that is weird, right?"
"Um... is there any chance that he wants to sleep with her?"
"I really don't think so. And, she's engaged to another dude."
"Okay. It's fine then. He wants that kind of bond with someone and who knows better than you and I about how people use language to create connection?"
"I see your point." Duh. If anybody should understand the power of words, I should. I'm getting the English MA to prove it, even. So, now I get the "sister" thing. It's a quirk, but it makes sense.
It was his sister and her fiance who got him out of his apartment and dragged him out to the bar on the night we met. She's the one I have to thank for having a stranger walk up to me with the world's worst pick-up line. ("I totally didn't mean it as a line," he said, blushing. "I swear! I was curious. You don't see a lot of people sitting at a bar, drinking water and writing.")
Mr. Curls' sister is marrying the fiance on Wednesday, which will coincidentally be the first time I meet the sister. No pressure, now. I would have liked to have met her for the first time in a setting that's more low key, but the good news is that she'll be a little distracted and, if she'd be inclined to judge me harshly, won't have much time to what with the whole getting hitched thing going on. According to Mr. Curls, she likes what she's heard of me, so that's also good. But, she's one of the most important people in his life, so I really want her to have a good opinion of me.
I also wonder if it'll be weird to go to a wedding with a boyfriend who's been married twice already.
I'll just say I'm glad that the invite to go with him came kind of late because he had been assuming my teaching schedule conflicted with the wedding. This way, I don't have much time to worry about it.
"That's weird," I said to Amanda, a few days after meeting him. "I mean, that is weird, right?"
"Um... is there any chance that he wants to sleep with her?"
"I really don't think so. And, she's engaged to another dude."
"Okay. It's fine then. He wants that kind of bond with someone and who knows better than you and I about how people use language to create connection?"
"I see your point." Duh. If anybody should understand the power of words, I should. I'm getting the English MA to prove it, even. So, now I get the "sister" thing. It's a quirk, but it makes sense.
It was his sister and her fiance who got him out of his apartment and dragged him out to the bar on the night we met. She's the one I have to thank for having a stranger walk up to me with the world's worst pick-up line. ("I totally didn't mean it as a line," he said, blushing. "I swear! I was curious. You don't see a lot of people sitting at a bar, drinking water and writing.")
Mr. Curls' sister is marrying the fiance on Wednesday, which will coincidentally be the first time I meet the sister. No pressure, now. I would have liked to have met her for the first time in a setting that's more low key, but the good news is that she'll be a little distracted and, if she'd be inclined to judge me harshly, won't have much time to what with the whole getting hitched thing going on. According to Mr. Curls, she likes what she's heard of me, so that's also good. But, she's one of the most important people in his life, so I really want her to have a good opinion of me.
I also wonder if it'll be weird to go to a wedding with a boyfriend who's been married twice already.
I'll just say I'm glad that the invite to go with him came kind of late because he had been assuming my teaching schedule conflicted with the wedding. This way, I don't have much time to worry about it.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Conversations About Kids
"I don't want kids," I said.
My mom snorted and laughed like this was the funniest thing she'd ever heard.
"I'm serious. I don't want kids."
"That's exactly what I used to say."
My mom snorted and laughed like this was the funniest thing she'd ever heard.
"I'm serious. I don't want kids."
"That's exactly what I used to say."
* * *
I was visiting my pen pal (aka one of my oldest and dearest friends) last year and she was telling me about her plan. "First comes the wedding, and then I'm still deciding what should come second, children or graduate school. On one hand, it'd be easier to do school without kids. On the other, if I want children, having them before I'm thirty is the best thing biologically."
"Wow, you've really thought this out. I like the idea of you with kids. You'd be a super mom."
"You know, I'd never seriously thought about kids until I was with my fiance. Then I saw what a wonderful guy he is and suddenly, the idea of having children with him was just the most natural thing in the world."
She looked over at me and gave me a sly look. "It might go the same way for you, you know."
"I wouldn't want to say never, but I will say don't hold your breath."
She gave me another look and smiled. "You'd be a good mom, too, you know."
"Wow, you've really thought this out. I like the idea of you with kids. You'd be a super mom."
"You know, I'd never seriously thought about kids until I was with my fiance. Then I saw what a wonderful guy he is and suddenly, the idea of having children with him was just the most natural thing in the world."
She looked over at me and gave me a sly look. "It might go the same way for you, you know."
"I wouldn't want to say never, but I will say don't hold your breath."
She gave me another look and smiled. "You'd be a good mom, too, you know."
* * *
"Well," Amanda said. "One good thing about Mr. Curls' baggage is that most guys who already have kids like that don't want more."
* * *
On V-Day, when we were talking more about the ex-wives and his sons, I brought it up. "I know it's early in the game to bring this up, but have you thought of whether or not you'd like to have more children?"
He thought for a moment. "When I was with my first wife, she had some miscarriages which were really hard on both of us. But, she didn't want to take the pill or use any kind of birth control."
"That's really weird."
He shrugged. "So, I got a vasectomy."
At which point, I thought, "Score!"
"But, at some point, I think I would like to have more children and a vasectomy is reversible. What about you?"
"I used to never want kids, and it was pretty straight-forward with my ex, because he didn't want children. But, in the past year or two, I've started to think maybe. If the circumstances are right, I might be open to it."
We didn't go any further down that train of thought. For now, that's all that needed to be said.
He thought for a moment. "When I was with my first wife, she had some miscarriages which were really hard on both of us. But, she didn't want to take the pill or use any kind of birth control."
"That's really weird."
He shrugged. "So, I got a vasectomy."
At which point, I thought, "Score!"
"But, at some point, I think I would like to have more children and a vasectomy is reversible. What about you?"
"I used to never want kids, and it was pretty straight-forward with my ex, because he didn't want children. But, in the past year or two, I've started to think maybe. If the circumstances are right, I might be open to it."
We didn't go any further down that train of thought. For now, that's all that needed to be said.
* * *
The truth is, the idea of getting pregnant, giving birth, and raising a child or two intimidates me like no other. There's the issue of the immense responsibility of raising a child, compounded by the fact that having children puts stress on a marriage. I saw a statistic about how the child-rearing years are the time period when divorce is most likely. Put the two together, and I'm scared.
But, I've been changing during the past year or two. I've been building relationships with people in a way I was too afraid to before. I've been teaching and, especially last semester, I saw that how I interacted with my students was changing who I was. They made me... warmer. Having all of these students who had to trust me and to whom I worked hard to prove that trust was merited, plus spending so much time trying to bring out the best in them, it changed me. Teaching college comp. is not the same as raising a child. I know this. However, if I can do one, it makes me just the littlest bit less afraid of doing the other.
Besides, having been so single for a couple of years made the kids thing a moot point. Even if I'm more negotiable on the idea of having children, I absolutely don't want to be a single mother. Now, suddenly, I'm with someone who makes me very happy. Someone who's a good dad to his sons and who desperately wishes he could be a bigger part of their lives. It's easy to see how fiercely he loves them.
In the right circumstances, I can see myself maybe having children. Ideally, those circumstances would factor in being married to a wonderful man, having a certain level of financial stability, and getting pregnant by plan instead of a "whoops." I want to be ready for children. If I have them, I want to be able to love them fiercely, without ever thinking about how they happened too soon, or with the wrong guy, or any kind of thing like that. If I have kids, I owe it to them to be over the moon that they came into my life.
Now, for the first time in my life, I'm closer than ever to possibly seeing those circumstances happen. It's still far too early to seriously expect to be with Mr. Curls long term, and I'm still terrified at the idea of being a mom. So, I'm not saying I'm picking out baby names or anything like that. All I'm saying is that my mom is a smart lady (she knew before I did that me and the ex were nearing the end) and my pen pal knows me inside and out. Kids haven't really been part of the plan for my life, but I'm not going to say never.
But, I've been changing during the past year or two. I've been building relationships with people in a way I was too afraid to before. I've been teaching and, especially last semester, I saw that how I interacted with my students was changing who I was. They made me... warmer. Having all of these students who had to trust me and to whom I worked hard to prove that trust was merited, plus spending so much time trying to bring out the best in them, it changed me. Teaching college comp. is not the same as raising a child. I know this. However, if I can do one, it makes me just the littlest bit less afraid of doing the other.
Besides, having been so single for a couple of years made the kids thing a moot point. Even if I'm more negotiable on the idea of having children, I absolutely don't want to be a single mother. Now, suddenly, I'm with someone who makes me very happy. Someone who's a good dad to his sons and who desperately wishes he could be a bigger part of their lives. It's easy to see how fiercely he loves them.
In the right circumstances, I can see myself maybe having children. Ideally, those circumstances would factor in being married to a wonderful man, having a certain level of financial stability, and getting pregnant by plan instead of a "whoops." I want to be ready for children. If I have them, I want to be able to love them fiercely, without ever thinking about how they happened too soon, or with the wrong guy, or any kind of thing like that. If I have kids, I owe it to them to be over the moon that they came into my life.
Now, for the first time in my life, I'm closer than ever to possibly seeing those circumstances happen. It's still far too early to seriously expect to be with Mr. Curls long term, and I'm still terrified at the idea of being a mom. So, I'm not saying I'm picking out baby names or anything like that. All I'm saying is that my mom is a smart lady (she knew before I did that me and the ex were nearing the end) and my pen pal knows me inside and out. Kids haven't really been part of the plan for my life, but I'm not going to say never.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
I'm Officially Closing My Eyes and Holding On Tight
Last night, I looked at Mr. Curls and watched him for a minute. "What are you thinking?" he asked.
"I'm thinking how strange you are."
He smiled. "How's that?"
Then I tried, as best I could, to articulate what I meant. I told him that it's so unfamiliar to me, what with my own issues, to get so close to someone so fast. That it's alien to me to have someone who hasn't even known me all that long be so intent on getting close to me. It's not to say that I haven't been working hard this past year or two on getting past keeping people at a distance, but it's still a relative scale - warm and friendly for me is still pretty reserved for most folks. So, it's weird.
"It's strange," he said. "We've been going kind of slow, but it feels like it's all happened so fast, too."
Throughout this whole thing, as I get more entangled with him and start to get used to the idea of thinking about him as the boyfriend, I keep feeling like this whole thing is surreal. Is he real? Is this really happening?
He isn't perfect, and I'm still getting used to the idea of his kids and exes, but I'm slowly becoming more convinced that he just might be exactly what I need. The thought scares the hell out of me. If I start to expect him to be there. If I start to rely on him, how long after until it all goes wrong?
This is the part where I have to have faith. This is the part where I believe that even though others have let me down in the past, he isn't them. This is when I remind myself that even though relationships end all of the time, sometimes they last, and sometimes they last for all the right reasons.
It's pessimistic to think I'm only setting myself up to get hurt. So, I go cautiously and I try to have faith. It's not something I'm good at, but then he does something, or says something, or even just looks at me a certain way, and it suddenly becomes a lot easier.
"I'm thinking how strange you are."
He smiled. "How's that?"
Then I tried, as best I could, to articulate what I meant. I told him that it's so unfamiliar to me, what with my own issues, to get so close to someone so fast. That it's alien to me to have someone who hasn't even known me all that long be so intent on getting close to me. It's not to say that I haven't been working hard this past year or two on getting past keeping people at a distance, but it's still a relative scale - warm and friendly for me is still pretty reserved for most folks. So, it's weird.
"It's strange," he said. "We've been going kind of slow, but it feels like it's all happened so fast, too."
Throughout this whole thing, as I get more entangled with him and start to get used to the idea of thinking about him as the boyfriend, I keep feeling like this whole thing is surreal. Is he real? Is this really happening?
He isn't perfect, and I'm still getting used to the idea of his kids and exes, but I'm slowly becoming more convinced that he just might be exactly what I need. The thought scares the hell out of me. If I start to expect him to be there. If I start to rely on him, how long after until it all goes wrong?
This is the part where I have to have faith. This is the part where I believe that even though others have let me down in the past, he isn't them. This is when I remind myself that even though relationships end all of the time, sometimes they last, and sometimes they last for all the right reasons.
It's pessimistic to think I'm only setting myself up to get hurt. So, I go cautiously and I try to have faith. It's not something I'm good at, but then he does something, or says something, or even just looks at me a certain way, and it suddenly becomes a lot easier.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
My Curly-Haired Valentine, or Mr. Curls Gets Laid
Mr. Curls and I spent the afternoon and most of the night together today. I cooked us dinner, we rented a movie, and we talked more about his relationship history. I was nervous bringing it up, but needed to understand more about it. He was uncomfortable talking about it, but he puts a high premium on honesty and being straight with me, so he told me about wife #1 and wife #2, with more info on #2 since that story's more recent. He regrets the whole wife #2 thing, but until someone invents a time machine, there's not much he can do to change it.
I appreciated that he was straight with me, especially since it's a subject he'd rather not talk about. But, I learned the most important thing I wanted to learn, that the rebound marriage episode was a mistake and not a pattern.
It's weird that, given his past, we've had to be so up front so quickly. We've talked about issues that most couples don't talk about this early, but I wouldn't say it's a bad thing. Just a matter of having less being eased into things and more being chucked in the deep end. But, I'm still feeling okay with the complications. I'm cautious, but I don't hear alarms going off in the back of my mind.
So, it was with all that in mind (and the fact that my period's decided to hold off just a bit longer), that I decided tonight would be a good night to sleep with him. I was nervous, and so was he, and I'm mostly just glad that the first time is behind us now. That sounds terrible, doesn't it? But, couples get better at sex after they've had a chance to know what the other person likes. Our 2nd time will be better, and so on.
I'm glad we had sex tonight. It made me more relaxed with him, because first-time sex was the biggest scary thing for me, and now we've had it. Scary thing over. We stayed in bed a good long while after, cuddling and talking and I didn't freak out. Okay, maybe a very, very small voice whispered in my head to run (or, rather, kick him out), but it was more a reaction to me internalizing this whole girlfriend idea - him saying the word was one thing, but having sex is what really hit it home.
On a side note, he gave me a present today. When he said he wanted to give me something, I was a little worried that it'd be something too big, something expensive or whatnot. Turns out, the present was perfect - a necklace that's beautiful but inexpensive and I love it to death. I wore it all day today and when I hung it up after he left, it made me smile. I've got boyfriend jewelry :)
I've got a boyfriend.
I've got a boyfriend with a complicated past, but one who's warm and sweet and respectful and all kinds of other things that make me believe he's worth the complications. I'm in it now. I've officially crossed over the line into believing that this is an genuine relationship. The thought makes me a bit light headed, but in a good way.
I appreciated that he was straight with me, especially since it's a subject he'd rather not talk about. But, I learned the most important thing I wanted to learn, that the rebound marriage episode was a mistake and not a pattern.
It's weird that, given his past, we've had to be so up front so quickly. We've talked about issues that most couples don't talk about this early, but I wouldn't say it's a bad thing. Just a matter of having less being eased into things and more being chucked in the deep end. But, I'm still feeling okay with the complications. I'm cautious, but I don't hear alarms going off in the back of my mind.
So, it was with all that in mind (and the fact that my period's decided to hold off just a bit longer), that I decided tonight would be a good night to sleep with him. I was nervous, and so was he, and I'm mostly just glad that the first time is behind us now. That sounds terrible, doesn't it? But, couples get better at sex after they've had a chance to know what the other person likes. Our 2nd time will be better, and so on.
I'm glad we had sex tonight. It made me more relaxed with him, because first-time sex was the biggest scary thing for me, and now we've had it. Scary thing over. We stayed in bed a good long while after, cuddling and talking and I didn't freak out. Okay, maybe a very, very small voice whispered in my head to run (or, rather, kick him out), but it was more a reaction to me internalizing this whole girlfriend idea - him saying the word was one thing, but having sex is what really hit it home.
On a side note, he gave me a present today. When he said he wanted to give me something, I was a little worried that it'd be something too big, something expensive or whatnot. Turns out, the present was perfect - a necklace that's beautiful but inexpensive and I love it to death. I wore it all day today and when I hung it up after he left, it made me smile. I've got boyfriend jewelry :)
I've got a boyfriend.
I've got a boyfriend with a complicated past, but one who's warm and sweet and respectful and all kinds of other things that make me believe he's worth the complications. I'm in it now. I've officially crossed over the line into believing that this is an genuine relationship. The thought makes me a bit light headed, but in a good way.
Isn't it ALWAYS Bad Timing?
Things with Mr. Curls have been getting more physical and I've been doing a gut check on whether or not I'm ready to sleep with him. He's not in a rush and neither am I, but I was thinking that today would be a good day for the ever-so-indelicate STDs talk. I was thinking that, maybe after that talk, depending, today might be the right day to break my long-term celibacy.
No, it's not because it's Valentine's Day. Honest-to-Bob. It's pure timeline of how long we've been seeing each other and an indicator of having hit certain important mile markers that make me feel ready for being all the way physical. Last night I changed my sheets. This morning, I had a stress dream about having sex with him. It's been a long time since I've been in the sack with anybody, and I've only ever slept with one person before, so yeah, I'm a bit nervous.
Anyhow, I've been getting myself geared up. Then, wouldn't you know it, this morning I noticed the tell tale signs of my oncoming period. Stupid uterus. I don't want to have my period right now. Having sex with Mr. Curls for the first time is plenty to deal with all on its own, the last thing I need to worry about on top of that is blood coming out of my crotch. I don't mind period sex, but I absolutely don't want that to be the first type of sex I have with him. F*ing period.
No, it's not because it's Valentine's Day. Honest-to-Bob. It's pure timeline of how long we've been seeing each other and an indicator of having hit certain important mile markers that make me feel ready for being all the way physical. Last night I changed my sheets. This morning, I had a stress dream about having sex with him. It's been a long time since I've been in the sack with anybody, and I've only ever slept with one person before, so yeah, I'm a bit nervous.
Anyhow, I've been getting myself geared up. Then, wouldn't you know it, this morning I noticed the tell tale signs of my oncoming period. Stupid uterus. I don't want to have my period right now. Having sex with Mr. Curls for the first time is plenty to deal with all on its own, the last thing I need to worry about on top of that is blood coming out of my crotch. I don't mind period sex, but I absolutely don't want that to be the first type of sex I have with him. F*ing period.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
The V-Day Plan
The other night, post baggage-reveal, Mr. Curls brought up V-Day.
"So," he said, "Sunday..."
"Oh yeah, that thing."
He chuckled. "I was wondering what your opinion of Valentine's day is."
"Pretty neutral, really. When I was with someone, we'd do something low key, and I liked it low key. I'm not interested in making it into a big deal."
"Same here. Though, would you mind if I got you something?"
"I would think it was sweet, but don't feel like you have to."
"But if I did, that'd be okay, right?"
"Yeah, that'd be okay."
"Good."
We sorted the rest of the details out today. He's going to come over for an early dinner and we'll rent a movie. I told him that since he cooked for me the other night, I'd cook for him tomorrow. He insisted that I didn't have to, that he'd be perfectly happy with leftover runny lasagna (his cookery didn't turn out quite perfect, though it was still tasty). I get the feeling that he's not used to people doing nice things for him. It feels like he's usually the one doing nice things for other people.
Amanda and I had a long-ass phone conversation yesterday which covered, among other things, the latest updates with Mr. Curls. On the kids & ex-wives, she said, "You've just got to decide if you can handle it when it starts to affect your life, because it will affect your life if you're with him long enough. If you decide that you want to, I think that if anyone can handle it, you can." We talked a little about his marriages, too, and the part where I'm most concerned with the second marriage and how quickly it happened after the first - rebounding is one thing, a rebound marriage is more troubling. She mentioned the word "codependent," and I didn't argue with her. I don't know enough yet to draw conclusions, but there does seem to be a streak of it in him. We'll see. Depending, maybe I'm just the right kind of girl for him since I'm so independent. He may want somebody to swoop in and take care of, but I do a good job taking care of myself most of the time. I'm not looking for a savior, I'm looking for a partner.
All in all, I'm still cautious, but optimistic. There are so many things about him that I like, and I love being around him, and the way I feel about him is different from the way I've felt about anyone since the beginning of my relationship with my ex. Mr. Curls has a lot of complications, but I want to take this pair of shoes around the block. They might be scuffed, but they fit amazingly well.
"So," he said, "Sunday..."
"Oh yeah, that thing."
He chuckled. "I was wondering what your opinion of Valentine's day is."
"Pretty neutral, really. When I was with someone, we'd do something low key, and I liked it low key. I'm not interested in making it into a big deal."
"Same here. Though, would you mind if I got you something?"
"I would think it was sweet, but don't feel like you have to."
"But if I did, that'd be okay, right?"
"Yeah, that'd be okay."
"Good."
We sorted the rest of the details out today. He's going to come over for an early dinner and we'll rent a movie. I told him that since he cooked for me the other night, I'd cook for him tomorrow. He insisted that I didn't have to, that he'd be perfectly happy with leftover runny lasagna (his cookery didn't turn out quite perfect, though it was still tasty). I get the feeling that he's not used to people doing nice things for him. It feels like he's usually the one doing nice things for other people.
Amanda and I had a long-ass phone conversation yesterday which covered, among other things, the latest updates with Mr. Curls. On the kids & ex-wives, she said, "You've just got to decide if you can handle it when it starts to affect your life, because it will affect your life if you're with him long enough. If you decide that you want to, I think that if anyone can handle it, you can." We talked a little about his marriages, too, and the part where I'm most concerned with the second marriage and how quickly it happened after the first - rebounding is one thing, a rebound marriage is more troubling. She mentioned the word "codependent," and I didn't argue with her. I don't know enough yet to draw conclusions, but there does seem to be a streak of it in him. We'll see. Depending, maybe I'm just the right kind of girl for him since I'm so independent. He may want somebody to swoop in and take care of, but I do a good job taking care of myself most of the time. I'm not looking for a savior, I'm looking for a partner.
All in all, I'm still cautious, but optimistic. There are so many things about him that I like, and I love being around him, and the way I feel about him is different from the way I've felt about anyone since the beginning of my relationship with my ex. Mr. Curls has a lot of complications, but I want to take this pair of shoes around the block. They might be scuffed, but they fit amazingly well.
F*ing Corsage
Last night was the father-daughter dinner and dance. I've been dreading it ever since I committed to going, but I tried to go into it optimistically 'cause half of our experiences of things come from our expectations - i.e. if you go to a part thinking "this is going to be the worst thing ever" you've got a self-fulfilling prophecy and you're not going to enjoy yourself. If you do the opposite, and look for the good parts, you have an easier time having fun.
I wish I could stay I did a better job of being positive, but to say I wasn't excited about the event is an vast understatement. My dread had nothing to do with spending time with my dad. I love my dad, he's a good man, and I like spending time with him. No, my negativity had everything to do with the event in and of itself. For some gals, the idea of dressing up in a fancy dress causes them to make high-pitched squeal-y noises. For some gals, the idea of going to a dance makes them happy. Not me. I've been to only a few dances in my life and I've enjoyed exactly none of them. I have a passionate dislike for those kinds of things - getting dressed up so I can go to a place where I'm surrounded by strangers so I can hang around awkwardly with someone all the while wishing I were somewhere else. A.k.a. my freshmen year valentine's dance, a.k.a. fucking prom.
It's not to say that I'm a hater, it's just that it'd take a very specific set of circumstances for me to enjoy myself at an event like that, and these circumstances were not those. My dad and I don't go for formal, so both of us going to a formal thing together is not ideal. Also, given the place the event was held, there was a fair chance of running into one of my students, and the last thing I want any of my students to see me as is someone's daughter - as a young instructor, I've got to do everything I can to hold onto my authority and being put in the cutesy daughter role (which is implicit in this kind of event) is not an authority-builder.
Right. So, my dad arrived at my house with a pin on corsage in hand. Talk about salt in the wound. I couldn't pin the thing on right, and then when it was on, it kept pulling my blouse down so I was flashing my bra and I re-pinned the horrible thing a dozen times, but I couldn't get it right and the pins kept sticking me. The best part was when we arrived, I saw that one of my students was, in fact, at the event. Or, rather one of my ex-students. I'll skip the details, but this was a non-traditional student who was at the event with his daughter. He had been enrolled in one of my classes this semester until there was a conflict where I was holding to my class policy (as stated in the syllabus I distributed on the first day) and he was upset because he felt it unfair. There was some drama, and he dropped my class. He was right behind us in the line at the door and then again at the line at the buffet. It was AWESOME. Fortunately, he didn't want to talk to me.
Then, later, the icing on the cake was when the event organizer was doing the boring "I'd like to thank" routine and she called up some dude who was a sponsor. "Fathers," he said. "I'd like you to take your daughter's hand." My dad took my hand. The guy continued, "Lord, I'd like to thank you for our daughters..." Yup, it was Jesus time. As an atheist, astonishingly enough, I was not pleased with the prayer. This was a public, not religious, event and I was offended that the guy just assumed we all wanted to pray about it.
In a nutshell, I was tense and uncomfortable the whole time we were there and I found it extremely difficult to pretend otherwise. We left early and came back to my house where we drank some hot cocoa and talked. That was much nicer than the dance and I finally relaxed. If I'm going to spend time with my dad, it's infinitely better if it's a mellow kind of thing. Just let us play cards, or fiddle with something on my car, or cook some dinner, anything else, just not a formal dance with all that emotional pressure to feel all mushy about our relationship. That shit is torturous.
Sorry dad, but when this thing comes around next year, there is no way in hell I'm going again. I'd rather help you rotate the tires on your truck.
I wish I could stay I did a better job of being positive, but to say I wasn't excited about the event is an vast understatement. My dread had nothing to do with spending time with my dad. I love my dad, he's a good man, and I like spending time with him. No, my negativity had everything to do with the event in and of itself. For some gals, the idea of dressing up in a fancy dress causes them to make high-pitched squeal-y noises. For some gals, the idea of going to a dance makes them happy. Not me. I've been to only a few dances in my life and I've enjoyed exactly none of them. I have a passionate dislike for those kinds of things - getting dressed up so I can go to a place where I'm surrounded by strangers so I can hang around awkwardly with someone all the while wishing I were somewhere else. A.k.a. my freshmen year valentine's dance, a.k.a. fucking prom.
It's not to say that I'm a hater, it's just that it'd take a very specific set of circumstances for me to enjoy myself at an event like that, and these circumstances were not those. My dad and I don't go for formal, so both of us going to a formal thing together is not ideal. Also, given the place the event was held, there was a fair chance of running into one of my students, and the last thing I want any of my students to see me as is someone's daughter - as a young instructor, I've got to do everything I can to hold onto my authority and being put in the cutesy daughter role (which is implicit in this kind of event) is not an authority-builder.
Right. So, my dad arrived at my house with a pin on corsage in hand. Talk about salt in the wound. I couldn't pin the thing on right, and then when it was on, it kept pulling my blouse down so I was flashing my bra and I re-pinned the horrible thing a dozen times, but I couldn't get it right and the pins kept sticking me. The best part was when we arrived, I saw that one of my students was, in fact, at the event. Or, rather one of my ex-students. I'll skip the details, but this was a non-traditional student who was at the event with his daughter. He had been enrolled in one of my classes this semester until there was a conflict where I was holding to my class policy (as stated in the syllabus I distributed on the first day) and he was upset because he felt it unfair. There was some drama, and he dropped my class. He was right behind us in the line at the door and then again at the line at the buffet. It was AWESOME. Fortunately, he didn't want to talk to me.
Then, later, the icing on the cake was when the event organizer was doing the boring "I'd like to thank" routine and she called up some dude who was a sponsor. "Fathers," he said. "I'd like you to take your daughter's hand." My dad took my hand. The guy continued, "Lord, I'd like to thank you for our daughters..." Yup, it was Jesus time. As an atheist, astonishingly enough, I was not pleased with the prayer. This was a public, not religious, event and I was offended that the guy just assumed we all wanted to pray about it.
In a nutshell, I was tense and uncomfortable the whole time we were there and I found it extremely difficult to pretend otherwise. We left early and came back to my house where we drank some hot cocoa and talked. That was much nicer than the dance and I finally relaxed. If I'm going to spend time with my dad, it's infinitely better if it's a mellow kind of thing. Just let us play cards, or fiddle with something on my car, or cook some dinner, anything else, just not a formal dance with all that emotional pressure to feel all mushy about our relationship. That shit is torturous.
Sorry dad, but when this thing comes around next year, there is no way in hell I'm going again. I'd rather help you rotate the tires on your truck.
Friday, February 12, 2010
I Knew There Was Baggage, I Didn't Know It'd Be a Complete Set
Holy mother load, Batman! We have baggage!
Mr. Curls cooked dinner for me tonight and it was sweet and adorable, even when he was running late because he got tied up at work and even when the lasagna came out runny. I made chocolate fondue for dessert and afterward, we cuddled on the couch. After a while, he said something along the lines of, "Where do you see this going?"
I thought about how to phrase it. "Well, I'd like to keep you around for a while."
"I would like that too. I would like that very much. And, if that's the case, then there are some things I should probably tell you."
The first thing he told me was that he's got two kids, ages 13 & 9. They live about an hour and a half away, with his ex-wife. Whew, talk about a lot to take in. He and the ex were married nearly eleven years, then things went downhill.
We talked about that a little. He was trying to gauge how freaked out I was, and I was trying to figure that out too. I told him, "I've never really dealt with this sort of thing before. It's complex, but not inherently bad. I'm okay with feeling it out as we go." Then I asked, "Is there anything else I should know?"
He hesitated. "After the divorce, I started dating again and met someone. We got married and it lasted about two months before she decided she'd rather be single."
"How long ago did you split up?"
"About a year and a half ago, I asked for a divorce."
"Is it finalized yet?"
"It took her a long time to sign the paperwork, so it's not finalized yet. But, we haven't been together for over a year."
I waited for him to spring more surprises, but it seems that's the whole shebang. Not that I want any more, mind you. Not in the least. That's more than enough for me to process. I mean, fuck, two kids, two ex-wives. That's plenty.
I'm still processing it, feeling it out. The 1st wife and kids is more than I expected, but not a wholly unexpected variety of baggage. The 2nd wife and the not-yet-finalized-divorce is the part that bothers me more. Though, and maybe it's stupid of me, I can't help but want to overlook the beat up suitcases in favor of how he's sweet and thoughtful and all kinds of other wonderful things that make me smile when I think about him.
It's complicated, but we both want to try to make this work. He asked if it'd be okay if he called me his girlfriend and I just did the official Facebook switch-over from "single" to "in a relationship." I mean, hell, I've always gotten along best with the married guys who had kids. Now it looks like I'll get my chance to date one. But, that 2nd divorce better get finalized damn quick. The sooner I can stop thinking about how he's still technically married, the better.
Mr. Curls cooked dinner for me tonight and it was sweet and adorable, even when he was running late because he got tied up at work and even when the lasagna came out runny. I made chocolate fondue for dessert and afterward, we cuddled on the couch. After a while, he said something along the lines of, "Where do you see this going?"
I thought about how to phrase it. "Well, I'd like to keep you around for a while."
"I would like that too. I would like that very much. And, if that's the case, then there are some things I should probably tell you."
The first thing he told me was that he's got two kids, ages 13 & 9. They live about an hour and a half away, with his ex-wife. Whew, talk about a lot to take in. He and the ex were married nearly eleven years, then things went downhill.
We talked about that a little. He was trying to gauge how freaked out I was, and I was trying to figure that out too. I told him, "I've never really dealt with this sort of thing before. It's complex, but not inherently bad. I'm okay with feeling it out as we go." Then I asked, "Is there anything else I should know?"
He hesitated. "After the divorce, I started dating again and met someone. We got married and it lasted about two months before she decided she'd rather be single."
"How long ago did you split up?"
"About a year and a half ago, I asked for a divorce."
"Is it finalized yet?"
"It took her a long time to sign the paperwork, so it's not finalized yet. But, we haven't been together for over a year."
I waited for him to spring more surprises, but it seems that's the whole shebang. Not that I want any more, mind you. Not in the least. That's more than enough for me to process. I mean, fuck, two kids, two ex-wives. That's plenty.
I'm still processing it, feeling it out. The 1st wife and kids is more than I expected, but not a wholly unexpected variety of baggage. The 2nd wife and the not-yet-finalized-divorce is the part that bothers me more. Though, and maybe it's stupid of me, I can't help but want to overlook the beat up suitcases in favor of how he's sweet and thoughtful and all kinds of other wonderful things that make me smile when I think about him.
It's complicated, but we both want to try to make this work. He asked if it'd be okay if he called me his girlfriend and I just did the official Facebook switch-over from "single" to "in a relationship." I mean, hell, I've always gotten along best with the married guys who had kids. Now it looks like I'll get my chance to date one. But, that 2nd divorce better get finalized damn quick. The sooner I can stop thinking about how he's still technically married, the better.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Guys Who Cook
Tomorrow night Mr. Curls is coming over to my place to cook dinner for me. I told him I was excited to experience his culinary skills, and he immediately countered with, "Don't say 'culinary,' it's too high stakes. You're going to be expecting fancy cuisine and how can I live up to that?"
"Okay, how about grub?"
"Ah, much better."
He asked me some questions about my kitchen gear and what kinds of foods I like and said he'd need a day to ponder what to cook. I'm way excited about having him cook for me. The food itself could be interesting, but more than that it's the gesture of it. Buying dinner is one thing, but cooking dinner takes more effort and is riskier. I think it's totally charming.
When my ex and I were together, we'd cook for each other. He makes his own hamburgers and fusses over the seasoning to make sure they're just right. Watching him prepare food for me was always lovely. It's all about the effort. It's like City Girl's post today about how she likes to take care of her guy.
The thing is, in our society, most people consider their time to be at least a little more important than their money. A guy who's willing to cook for me is a guy who gets major points in my book.
I'm covering dessert tomorrow and I decided to go for chocolate fondue. It's fun, it's chocolatey, and it'll be my first time trying to do it at home. I figured that if anyone's up for trying a culinary (I mean, grub) experiment with me, it's Mr. Curls.
"Okay, how about grub?"
"Ah, much better."
He asked me some questions about my kitchen gear and what kinds of foods I like and said he'd need a day to ponder what to cook. I'm way excited about having him cook for me. The food itself could be interesting, but more than that it's the gesture of it. Buying dinner is one thing, but cooking dinner takes more effort and is riskier. I think it's totally charming.
When my ex and I were together, we'd cook for each other. He makes his own hamburgers and fusses over the seasoning to make sure they're just right. Watching him prepare food for me was always lovely. It's all about the effort. It's like City Girl's post today about how she likes to take care of her guy.
The thing is, in our society, most people consider their time to be at least a little more important than their money. A guy who's willing to cook for me is a guy who gets major points in my book.
I'm covering dessert tomorrow and I decided to go for chocolate fondue. It's fun, it's chocolatey, and it'll be my first time trying to do it at home. I figured that if anyone's up for trying a culinary (I mean, grub) experiment with me, it's Mr. Curls.
Monday, February 8, 2010
F*ing Student Loans
Last summer, my student loan lender told me it was time to start paying them back. In the months since, I've been dumping hundreds of dollars in their lap and making a teeny-tiny dent in the total amount due. It sucks.
The worst part is having a job that pays pennies, and a job that is neither full time nor permanent (ah, the joy of adjuncting). The cherry on top is that the job market's in the tank right now, so being an adjunct is the best I've been able to manage. I keep searching the classifieds and various job websites, but all the openings I find are openings I'm not qualified for. These past couple of weeks I've been cursing my stupidity for majoring in English instead of the vastly more marketable field of medicine, especially nursing. If I was a nurse, I'd have my pick of jobs right now.
Part of the shtick our undergrads get fed is, "Do what you love, the money will follow." Um... yeah. About that...
But, there's not much I can do right now about changing the direction my undergrad and graduate studies went. No, now I've got to make the best out of what I've got. Even if what I've got is student loan repayment and an income that hovers on the border of poverty level. Since I'm not having much luck with job hunting, I'm buckling down on my spending.
This year, I've resolved to really focus on how much I stimulate the local economy with my hard-earned moolah. I've never been a really big spender, but now I'm cutting back even more. It's a blast, lemme tell ya.
One of these days, I'm going to get me a real job, one where I'll earn enough money that buying a plane ticket to see my brother over spring break isn't an expense I can't justify.
The worst part is having a job that pays pennies, and a job that is neither full time nor permanent (ah, the joy of adjuncting). The cherry on top is that the job market's in the tank right now, so being an adjunct is the best I've been able to manage. I keep searching the classifieds and various job websites, but all the openings I find are openings I'm not qualified for. These past couple of weeks I've been cursing my stupidity for majoring in English instead of the vastly more marketable field of medicine, especially nursing. If I was a nurse, I'd have my pick of jobs right now.
Part of the shtick our undergrads get fed is, "Do what you love, the money will follow." Um... yeah. About that...
But, there's not much I can do right now about changing the direction my undergrad and graduate studies went. No, now I've got to make the best out of what I've got. Even if what I've got is student loan repayment and an income that hovers on the border of poverty level. Since I'm not having much luck with job hunting, I'm buckling down on my spending.
This year, I've resolved to really focus on how much I stimulate the local economy with my hard-earned moolah. I've never been a really big spender, but now I'm cutting back even more. It's a blast, lemme tell ya.
One of these days, I'm going to get me a real job, one where I'll earn enough money that buying a plane ticket to see my brother over spring break isn't an expense I can't justify.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Worst Case Scenario
I spent most of the day with Mr. Curls today. The more I spend time with him, the more I want to spend more time with him.
Friday night, when I went out (sans Mr. Curls) and met up with one of my favorite couples, I told them about him and asked them, "How long after you met each other did you think 'this is the one'?"
After they answered, the guy countered with, "So, does this mean that you're thinking the guy you're seeing could be?"
"Maybe," I said. "Maybe I'm thinking it just a little."
Tonight, we ended up sitting on my couch and, among other things, we talked a little about the rough stuff he's going through. I didn't push it, because I've gone through my own rough stuff and I know it can be painful to talk about right away. I told him a short version of the story about my ex and then I told him that everybody's got a history and I wasn't going to push him about his.
"I want to," he said. "I want you to know everything about me." But, whatever it is, he couldn't quite find the words to tell me tonight.
"How long have you been so sad?" I asked him.
"A long time."
Based on what I know about him and what I can read in the things he says and does, I'm don't think the mystery baggage will turn out to be more than I can handle. The thing is, though, I don't know. In the face of an unknown like this, an unknown that has obviously left its scars on him, I can't help but think of worst case scenarios. What's behind the curtain? Is it bad enough to make me walk away?
Whatever it is, I'm really hoping it isn't one of those worst cases. Please, please let it be something I can handle. So far, this guy seems like he could be right for me. He seems like he could be so many of these things that I've dreamed I'd find. He just feels right. It's weird. Weirder yet is how I'm not freaking out about it. Everything I know tells me this could work. It's just that chunk that I don't know that might break the deal.
Now I have to wait and see.
Friday night, when I went out (sans Mr. Curls) and met up with one of my favorite couples, I told them about him and asked them, "How long after you met each other did you think 'this is the one'?"
After they answered, the guy countered with, "So, does this mean that you're thinking the guy you're seeing could be?"
"Maybe," I said. "Maybe I'm thinking it just a little."
Tonight, we ended up sitting on my couch and, among other things, we talked a little about the rough stuff he's going through. I didn't push it, because I've gone through my own rough stuff and I know it can be painful to talk about right away. I told him a short version of the story about my ex and then I told him that everybody's got a history and I wasn't going to push him about his.
"I want to," he said. "I want you to know everything about me." But, whatever it is, he couldn't quite find the words to tell me tonight.
"How long have you been so sad?" I asked him.
"A long time."
Based on what I know about him and what I can read in the things he says and does, I'm don't think the mystery baggage will turn out to be more than I can handle. The thing is, though, I don't know. In the face of an unknown like this, an unknown that has obviously left its scars on him, I can't help but think of worst case scenarios. What's behind the curtain? Is it bad enough to make me walk away?
Whatever it is, I'm really hoping it isn't one of those worst cases. Please, please let it be something I can handle. So far, this guy seems like he could be right for me. He seems like he could be so many of these things that I've dreamed I'd find. He just feels right. It's weird. Weirder yet is how I'm not freaking out about it. Everything I know tells me this could work. It's just that chunk that I don't know that might break the deal.
Now I have to wait and see.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
V-day is Annoying
Me: It's February.
Amanda: So?
Me: That means it's going to be Valentine's Day in a little while, and I might not be single for this one.
Amanda: So?
Me: I don't like it.
Amanda: Yeah, there's a lot of pressure.
Me: So what do I do?
Amanda: (laughing) Nothing, but he'd better have reservations made.
Stupid Valentine's Day. I didn't mind it when I was with my ex, but we didn't make a big deal, either. We'd go to dinner, or one of us would cook dinner, and we'd spend time together, but there was no elaborate thing. I liked it that way. I also liked the part where we were an established couple before our first Vday together rolled around.
With Mr. Curls, I'm pretty confident that we'll still be seeing each other in two weeks. But, it's too soon. Valentine's has all this weight behind it, and, well, I wish I could just ignore it completely. I just want to know what Mr. Curls is thinking about it, except it's still kind of early to assume that we'll still be seeing each other in two weeks. So, what's the right balance between broaching the subject early enough to defuse it while also being late enough to make sure it's going to be relevant? Hrm... Maybe this weekend would be about the right time. One week beforehand should be about right, right?
Amanda: So?
Me: That means it's going to be Valentine's Day in a little while, and I might not be single for this one.
Amanda: So?
Me: I don't like it.
Amanda: Yeah, there's a lot of pressure.
Me: So what do I do?
Amanda: (laughing) Nothing, but he'd better have reservations made.
Stupid Valentine's Day. I didn't mind it when I was with my ex, but we didn't make a big deal, either. We'd go to dinner, or one of us would cook dinner, and we'd spend time together, but there was no elaborate thing. I liked it that way. I also liked the part where we were an established couple before our first Vday together rolled around.
With Mr. Curls, I'm pretty confident that we'll still be seeing each other in two weeks. But, it's too soon. Valentine's has all this weight behind it, and, well, I wish I could just ignore it completely. I just want to know what Mr. Curls is thinking about it, except it's still kind of early to assume that we'll still be seeing each other in two weeks. So, what's the right balance between broaching the subject early enough to defuse it while also being late enough to make sure it's going to be relevant? Hrm... Maybe this weekend would be about the right time. One week beforehand should be about right, right?
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Yes, I'm a bit of a daddy's girl, but not this time
The other day, my dad asked me to go to a father-daughter dance with him. To make matters worse, said dance occurs at the university where I work. Now I'm dreading telling him no, because I don't want to hurt his feelings. However, I'm going to have to tell him no, because there's no way I'm going.
While the idea of going to a dance with my dad doesn't thrill me on its own terms, the deal-breaker comes from the location. I'm one of the youngest instructors on campus and this dance will be swarming with undergrads, some of whom will potentially be my students. The last thing I need is for undergrad students to look at me as being one of them. I need whatever I can hold onto in terms of authority, and going to this event is directly counter to that. Doesn't mean I look forward to telling my dad this. I just hope he won't take it personally. Cross your fingers for me.
While the idea of going to a dance with my dad doesn't thrill me on its own terms, the deal-breaker comes from the location. I'm one of the youngest instructors on campus and this dance will be swarming with undergrads, some of whom will potentially be my students. The last thing I need is for undergrad students to look at me as being one of them. I need whatever I can hold onto in terms of authority, and going to this event is directly counter to that. Doesn't mean I look forward to telling my dad this. I just hope he won't take it personally. Cross your fingers for me.
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