Thursday, June 30, 2011

Love is an Angel Disguised as Lust -- (Aymes Repplier)

Well hiddy ho there fellow Follies.  Hope you enjoyed that little story about the Lawyer.  Pretty good story, amirite? I've followed up with the girl who set us up, and she thanked me and was impressed with me being so honest with my feelings (I may have left out a detail or two).  She's also promised to let me know of other eligible bachelors she meets.  So.  We'll see.  I haven't told her I'm dating someone else since WNG and I haven't exactly had a talk yet about exclusivity.  Speaking of WNG...

Things are going well.  SUPER well.  I'm trying not to get too wrapped up in him, you know, avoid the whole "Halo Effect" thing, but he's just such a great guy, so it's becoming very difficult to keep my wits about me.

Young love, I s'pose.

We've been dating just under two months, and while we've discussed certain things like religion and families (religion, Follies, this is huge for me!), we've not discussed whether or not we're seeing other people, in a relationship, etc.  This is the part of dating I hate - that whole in-between part where you're not just getting to know someone but you aren't in a relationship just yet.  Okay, to be fair, I hate dating in general.  I like first dates....and being in a relationship.  That whole in between part? No, thank you.

He's been super busy with work lately, but he's still making an effort to see me, which tells me things are still well and good with us (I get super anxious with the little things HAVE to count).

I've also been giving more thought to the future of Folly of One and I've decided...what if I started a Tumblr? Same name (Folly of One, assuming it's available), I could keep the Twitter account, I could post smaller posts - maybe funnier posts (assuming you think I'm funny...humor me and say I am), or more pictures, or both, and it could be something I could keep private if I wanted or share if I wanted.  Most importantly, it could be something I could start without having the dating background to it.

That's ultimately the issue with this blog - moving forward and away from the heavy dating background.  That's not something I necessarily want to delete, as I feel I'd have to do with this blog to keep it around (and with the comics and the history, it's like deleting a child!), but something I feel like has served it's purpose.  I no longer need the blog to share my feelings and get over D, but I am interested in sharing my funny, innermost thoughts online (sort of).

So, what say the Follies? If I moved to a Tumblr would you still follow me? Is it a smart idea? I like the idea so far, but I don't want to rush into anything -- I have a habit of doing that online, and I want to really think smartly about this.

(Of course, if I made the move I'd update you all on the new site.  You've been great Follies and I don't want to lose you!!)

And because I hate posting a blog post without a picture or graphic of some kind, I give you:

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

The Date with the Noisy Lawyer

I look back on this date and laugh.  It was a good date.  No one else really agrees with me, and it certainly makes for a great story, but I really had no idea was until I noticed other people's reactions as I told the story.

He called me directly instead of meeting me for drinks with the friend who set us up.  She said he'd rather contact me directly - fine with me.  So he called.  Red Flag one was the little mix-up in our activities for the evening.  I'd told our mutual friend, after seeing some of his photos on Facebook, that I had a thing for golfers.  Somehow that got back to him in a different form, and when he called he suggested we go hit some balls after dinner.

I don't play golf.

I can barely swing a club.

I attempted, and attempted is really the key word here, to explain the mix-up without fully giving away what I'd told our friend.  I glossed over my own skills or lack thereof at the sport and explained that I liked golf but I wasn't all that interested in playing.  His response was:

"You just need to practice more.  If you practice more, you'll like it."

Naturally.  I brushed aside his suggestion, or insistence, that I simply needed to practice the sport more to enjoy playing it (I'm perfectly content to caddy for my parents at the moment thankyouverymuch).

I'll caddy for you anytime, Rory McIlroy
As I walked up to the restaurant, I felt exactly like those people you see on the commercials, walking into their first date.  I felt all clammy and nervous, expecting that familiar jingle to start playing as I headed to the door in my jeans, tee, and pointy heels.

We went to a Vietnamese place and made our own spring rolls - super fun.  (Is it wrong that I now want to take WNG there for the same thing?)  We also had Vietnamese coffee, which was very tasty - also, very caffeinated.  I no longer drink soda, tea, or other caffeinated beverages past about 1pm, so I did not sleep a WINK that night.  Unfortunately, things went downhill not long after arriving. You see, I was told he was "only 5'9"."  This is not an issue, as I am short and even in 4-inch heels I don't break 5'7".  I quickly discovered that Lawyer was SO NOT the 5'9" I was told he was.  I practically towered over him.  This was weird - I'm never taller than anyone!

A personal annoyance of mine is someone who flashes their ability to pay for something at me.  Lawyer insisted I could order anything I wanted off the menu because he was paying.

Um, yes, yes you are paying, I wanted to say.  YOU are the one who called ME! That's my rule - barring any sort of long-term relationship mumbo-jumbo, or really expensive things like concerts or amusement parks, whoever does the asking does the paying.

I must give him credit, he seemed like a really nice, genuine guy, though he could have kept the volume down a bit when telling me about his recent cases.  He's very loud and talkative, and maybe the table behind us didn't need to hear about how one client had his penis out, in his hands, masturbating while women walked passed his car.  Or the details from the sexual assault by the guy who's now in court for the third time on such a charge.

Oh, yeah, side note: I cut my hair super short!!
I could feel my face going red as he spoke, and I tried to shrink as far down in my booth as possible.  At about this point, the table behind us got up to leave after they finished dinner, and as they left they stopped at our table and the lady said, "It was nice getting to know the two of you."

OH NO THEY DI'IN'T (oh yes they did)

WHO DOES THAT????  ANYONE reading our body language could tell that we don't really know each other, and we're likely on a first date.  You can usually tell which couples those are in a restaurant, and dear heavens to Betsy I would NEVER in a million years walk up to a couple that appeared to be on a first date and make such an asinine comment.

I wouldn't make such a comment to any couple, but especially not one that appeared to be on a first date.


Lawyer was kind of a showoff - telling me how he can do whatever he puts his mind to doing, no matter how hard.  Like skiing.  If he wants to go down a Double Diamond hill, then by golly he's going to make it down that Double Diamond hill no matter what.  Because he can.  He kept inviting me to go to Yoga with him the following night (his friend owns the place so he could probably get me a discount).  In fact, he invited me no less than three times to join him at Yoga.

His wallet was made of Argentinean leather, which, you know, is like, super rare and special.  He told me all about a European trip he took with an ex-girlfriend after high school, when they were already exes (don't ever do that, by the way, go on vacation with an ex. So he tells me...).  Really? I don't care if that was 10 years ago -- please don't mention any exes.

Despite his glowing qualities, we had nothing in common.  Different music tastes, movies, book subjects, height, volume levels...he just couldn't compare to WNG, who I'd seen only three days before (and was seeing again the next night, hence why I couldn't accept the ever-present Yoga invitation).

At the end of the date, he took out his phone and showed me pictures of his friend's dog - who had chewed up part of his Argentinean leather wallet - and his parents' two dogs.

After that date, I realized WNG really was the catch I thought he was (and still think he is!).  Also, I started to rethink these set-ups I never had an issue with before.   I MEAN REALLY!!

Thursday, June 9, 2011

The Hyannis Port Update

My hiatus isn't helping.  I've been thinking on it, long and hard, and I've decided to let the follies help me out.

You see, I'm in a pickle.  A big, giant, green, kosher, dill pickle about the whole bloggy-blog world and where it fits with me.  I like it.  I love it.  I want some more of it - except for when I post some drunken posts. (But hey - those can be edited or deleted!)

Now - the pickle.  The real pickle.  The pickle that may not be a pickle at all (so, it's a cucumber?).  As you may (or, rather, SHOULD) know, I've been seeing this great guy I call WNG. Pronounced as "wing".  WNG is awesome.  WNG is nice.  WNG is someone with whom I can have a conversation about Tea Party politics, Dumb and Dumber and why we both don't like it, and our most embarrassing drunken incidents all in one night.  While missing out on the event we're attending.  That we paid to attend.

In short, he's great, I've met his sister, and at this point I don't want to fuck this up.  Hence the pickle (or cucumber).  Because while I don't think something as silly as a personal blog could possibly break up a couple (and if it could, maybe the couple shouldn't have been together anyway), I also don't think it's something worth coming between a great couple.  What if he doesn't want me to write about him at all?  What if he's uncomfortable with the fact that I had 4 dates within 9 days with 3 different guys, and he was one of the guys (and two of the dates)?

Most importantly and speculatively, what if he's uncomfortable with all The Bandleader posts?

Because you see follies, WNG is a friend of The Bandleader.

I always tend to speculate and postulate and other-lates and this could clearly not be a big issue.  He may not even be a good or great or best friend.  But I want to make sure I'm upfront and honest about everything, no keeping unnecessary secrets here, because a) Again, I don't want to fuck this up and b) We've been so honest up until now that there's no point in hiding a silly little blog.  But I also bring this up because I want to add to the blog a few small details that add up to one very significant change: My name and face.

I don't write solely about dates anymore.  In fact, I'm thinking I won't be writing about future dates at all, save for one very important doozy of a post to come soon (don't worry Josie, it's the post about the date with the overly-talkative Lawyer - it needs comics!!).

But adding my face and name makes it a little more real.  A little more personable.  And a little less creepy and stalkery.  It also makes me way easier to find online, hence the up-til-now delay in attaching names and faces and whatnot.

I mean, someone could Google me and then I'd pop up!  What then?

I'm rambling, I know, but perhaps you see where I'm coming from.  Attaching a name and a face to a currently-anonymous blog is a big step digitally, and it could have a ripple effect elsewhere in my life.  That was the point of the hiatus - to determine any ripples.

I haven't found them, but I'm sure they're there.

I like my blog, and I don't find anything about it overly embarrassing, but I'm scared to sort of open it up and let it out onto the world.  I'm a digital hypochondriac of sorts - I figure anything that could happen because of a blog will happen to me (I'll be fired, I'll get nasty messages from family, my friends will hate me, any and all future boyfriends will leave me...

Geez, why did I start a blog in the first place?

Anyhoo, I'll probably have a few more posts about my anxiety about the blog as I give myself a heart attack over the non-issues at hand, so you should probably get ready to roll your eyes at poor Folly.  In the mean time, here's a pretty photo (because I'm bad at writing conclusions):

I did actually take that photo in Hell, Cayman Islands. Awesome, yeah?