A Smile Can Change an Afternoon

Spring has sprung!

On my daily afternoon walk today, I encountered a higher number of fellow humans than usual.  It wasn't all that warm outside, but the intense sunlight probably called people out of their homes and flats and offices to get some Vitamin D in anticipation of Summer.  As is my belief, I tried to smile at each person who made eye contact with me.

And dear follies, I discovered the one reason you should smile at another person as you pass them on the sidewalk: You'll totally make their day.

Don't believe me?

I smiled at a rather good-looking young chap as we passed, and he could barely contain his smile.  You know that smile you get when someone you like calls you, or compliments you, or smiles at you? Or, maybe it's not someone you like but someone who is good-looking, or famous, or just all around nice? That impulsive, automatic tick that turns the corners of your mouth upward and causes you to blush and cast down your eyes because you can't help but react to such a gesture?

Yeah, he smiled that smile.  Which then made me smile that smile.

And I'm pretty sure our smiles, along with the Vitamin D, increased our dopamine levels and made for a great afternoon.

So, smile at a stranger.  You could make their afternoon brighter :)

Love Bites on the Menu

Follies, let's talk about schmoopey PDA.

Last night at dinner, I sat near a couple in a booth whose displays of affection were a little, erm, over the top.

The guy had thought ahead.  There was a gorgeous bouquet of roses and baby's breath already waiting on the table for them.  He was wearing a dress shirt, slacks, and a tie.  She was in a banded black dress so short she was walking with her hand in front of her crotch I KID YOU NOT.  

She noticed the flowers and turned to him, and they started making out.  Like, really going at it.  Then they sat.  He seemed really fidgety, and got up from his seat across from her and sat next to her, café-style.

He fed her little bites in between kisses.

She fed him little bites in between kisses.

It was nauseating and fascinating to watch.  The entire crew of wait staff was watching them as intently as I was.  They had a camera and took cutesy food pictures of each other.  He still seemed nervous.  If they didn't seem so comfortable with each other, I'd almost suspect them of being on a first date.  He kept twitching.  I waited – for a ring.  I thought for sure he was proposing. 

My waiter passed me a note when he brought me the dessert menu. "That just makes me want to, I don't know – throw up?"

Best note from a waiter ever. 

But they kept feeding each other little bites of spring rolls.  They kept tasting each others martinis.  And they kept making out – SERIOUSLY making out – in their booth.   I started to get a little disgusted.  I mean sure, it was like a train wreck – I couldn't look away – but the booths weren't very private.  And as the night got later, the restaurant filled up a little more and the privacy they may have had vanished.  I was bordering on voyeurism as I kept watching.

He never proposed.

He should have proposed.  That would have excused the schmoopey-ness of their date.  We could have all cheered them on.  But they didn't get engaged.  He didn't propose.  Instead, they just ate each other for dinner while we all watched.  Their PDA was, in my not so humble opinion, completely inexcusable (but also pretty damn entertaining).  

The takeaway message here – You should probably save that stuff for the bedroom ;)

Updates, Andy Griffith, and a Picture of My Feet

Folly gets angry when she sets up expectations for men and they neglect to reach them.  Even if those expectations are normal expectations for a 30-year-old like being a man, having some cajones, and asking for her number, Folly still gets angry.

And an angry Folly leads to an angry blog post, so I apologize, dear follies, that my last post regarding The Bandleader not asking for my number came off a little...angry.

Don't try to tell me it didn't, or that I was justified.  It was an angry post.  I could tell.  And for the most part that anger was unintentional.

I just don't understand why a thirty-year old man is too much of a pansy-chicken to ask for my number.  Sure, I could ignore his body language and say he's not interested.  That's no biggie.  Sometime setups just don't work out.  Fine.  But I don't think that's the case.  The Negative Nancy inside me thinks he's a bit of a playboy - not an unrealistic assumption for the leader of a rock band, yeah?  The Positive Polly thinks he's just being a pansy-chicken.  Nancy and Polly don't always get along.

But I post this because a) I apologize if I seemed mildly psychotic about having a crush on a boy (I swear I'm not 16 and Crazy - although that could be a fun show...MTV call me!) and b) because something happened yesterday morning that made me smile and needs to be shared.

Every morning, or nearly every morning, I stop by the Panera next to my office for coffee.  There is often an older man who resembles Andy Griffith sitting in a window seat, eating his breakfast.  Yesterday morning, as I filled my cup with a delicious dark roast and listened to Arcade Fire in my headphones (GENIUS album, btw), Mr. Andy Griffith approached the coffee and, while filling his cup greeted me with a sweet smile.  He commented that he sees me every morning and has wanted to wave or say hello for some time, then asked me where I work.  I told him, and we chatted for a bit.  Then he told me to have a good day, and he went back to his seat.

I left in a great mood, and thought to myself that men today could take a lesson in etiquette and talking to girls from that man.  He was polite, he was kind, and I doubt he had any expectations of getting a date with me.  That didn't stop him from talking to a pretty girl.

I don't encounter this often with men today.  Sure, you could say that Mr. Andy Griffith here had a different motive than any other guy I may encounter, but honestly, why should that matter? The point here is that Mr. Griffith was polite and complimentary.  When a guy who is actually polite does approach me (see here: Bandleader, The), they stop just short of being complimentary (unless calling me "Out of this world" on the fly counts??) and chicken out. 

Maybe Mr. Andy Griffith has had enough life experience to be so forward.  Maybe he's just of a different generation.  But he didn't have to have a conversation with me while we both filled up our coffee cups.  He could have simply nodded hello and gone back to his seat.  Instead, he spent a few extra moments talking to me about the day, my job, and how he's noticed me before.

I don't think it's too much to ask that men today take a lesson from previous generations and just be open to having a conversation with a girl.  MAN UP! Take a chance.  Talk.  And SMILE!

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Mom asked me this past weekend if I'd consider online dating, and that perhaps I should consider online dating.  I explained that I just don't have the money right now to use a site that I trust.  It's aggravating because I'd like to get into online dating (or, rather, I feel like I need to be open to online dating) but the timing just doesn't seem to be working out right now.  I know I want to be in a relationship and dating someone and whatnot, but I just can't justify another monthly expenditure with my budget and work issues right now. ARGH.

In related news, I'm always open for blind dates and setups, so if you've got a guy who's looking for a lady... ;)

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Also, I apologize for subjecting you to my ugly, unpedicured feet in the Saturday night post.  Here's a pic where I've pedicured them, sans fake bruise.

Does this pose make my feet look fat?

--------------------------

Last update!  I've received some mixed messages from fellow friends on how to proceed with The Bandleader.  The responses were overwhelmingly for me contacting him and asking him out, which is, as we've been over, not really a me thing to do.  Then today I spoke with another coworker about The Bandleader.  She heard the story and said, "Hm, sounds like he's trouble." Then I sent her a pic of The Bandleader (it was a slow afternoon) and she said, "Yeah, Folly, he totally looks like trouble". 

I've decided I'm just gonna go with my gut on this one.  My boss told me I read too many articles on dating and flirting (which I try to avoid doing at work, oops!) and that I'd be perfectly fine on my own, without the advice.  So, maybe I should try it.  Maybe I should just try listening to myself and doing what I think is best, not what other people, or articles, or "experts" think is best.

So Follies - will I be contacting The Bandleader? Will I be inviting him to have some coffee with me, away from a concert?  Ahhhhh.....


No :)

It's Seven o'clock and I Wanna Rock!

I was ready.   I had my outfit set.  I had my makeup perfected.  My hair was straightened.

I was READY. 

If I were willing to show you my face, you'd see my AWESOME makeup.  But I'm not, so you'll just have to believe me.

I drove down there.

I parked.

I walked a block to the venue.

I had my ID ready, half-priced ticket in hand.

I entered.

I ordered a drink at the bar.

I was READY!

Because it's impossible for me to be late anywhere, I was there in time to catch the very first opening band.  They were okay.  I enjoyed my drink and surveyed the crowd to see if I knew anyone.  No one yet, but I was early.  I had time.

After the first band, as they were switching to the second, I saw the Guitarist pass by, and he seemed excited to see me, and he pulled me aside to stand with his wife, Coworker, and other friends and band mates.

Here's where the nerves started to set in.

After a while The Bandleader came by.  I smiled and waved at him, and he came over.  I saw his eyes light up when he saw me and he gave me a big hug and told me how great it was to see me. 

Things were boding well for the evening.

Of course, the band was running around close to the show so I hung out with Coworker and her Friends, one of whom was a Brit.  Brit's Wife and I got stuck in a conversation her Brit had with another Brit we met last night.  They discussed where in England they each were from, and their thoughts on Scotland and Bath and she and I were a little lost. 

Okay, maybe his wife didn't feel as lost as I did, but I had no idea what they were talking about.  I mean sure, I've been to Bath, and I LOVE me some Scotland, but once they got into which town is more upper-class and lower-class I really got lost.  But the new Brit who walked up (the unmarried one) reminded me of the lead guy in the movie "Across the Universe", both for looks and his explanation of why he's in the U.S., so that was fun.  I just imagined him jumping on stage with the band and singing Beatles tunes.

Aaaaaaand finally the band was on!! We made our way to the front and danced to the tunes.  The Bandleader had made a comment about how he feels he's not giving a good show if even one person isn't smiling, so I made sure to smile and dance. 

Then these two girls came, late in the show, one of whom sang with the band during their last show (and, on the first night I met The Bandleader, she gave me a dirty look for flirting with him, so I don't think she likes me). 

They were maybe a little drunk and dancing like crazy, and they kept stepping backward into me.  And then – She Stepped On Me.  With her high-heeled boot.  OUCH!

I really need to do something about those toenails...

Coworker's sister laughed, and she grabbed my shoulders and moved me away from the crazy boot lady.  We all had a good laugh after the show – both at the crazy dancing AND how jealous the crazy boot lady was that she didn't get to the sing with the band this time (and oh follies, she was jealous).

As we were hanging out, The Bandleader walked over and I made sure to give him a big smile and two thumbs up for the show.  He walked over closer and we started talking.  At one point he leaned in his face within an inch of my face, and my heart skipped a beat.  I leaned toward him as well.  It was wonderful.  He talked to Brit and Brit's Wife, and the entire time he spoke to them his body remained toward me.  Even his feet pointed toward me the whole time, which I've been assured and reassured is a sure-fire sign that he's into me.

Until the new lady-singer in the band walked up, and then his body language was all toward her. 

Now, just to tell you all what's going on at this point, people are leaving the club.  It's past midnight, people are leaving, and I came alone so I could get my flirt on, and now he and everyone else are nowhere to be found (well, I could have found The Bandleader.  I knew where he was.  He was out back, carrying band stuff to the car, with the lady-singer, so I wasn't exactly going to search him out.)  Even if I had good vibes up to this point, I'm not sure how to feel.  I'm alone, I can't find Coworker, the Brit and his wife have left, and I don't know what to do with myself.  I'm borderline annoyed, because while I'd love to stay and flirt and hang out, I'm feeling mildly disrespected since everyone has just walked away from me.  I don't know where they are.  I look around, and I finally see a few people I know toward the front, on the front patio to the venue, so I walk over there.

I didn't have any intention of leaving just yet, since I found the group of friends, but mostly I wasn't going to leave yet because I at least wanted to say goodbye to The Bandleader.  It seemed like the right thing to do.  Everyone is hugging and saying goodbye, and I think everyone assumed I was leaving too since I walked to the patio.  I stalled them from saying goodbye to me long enough to see The Bandleader walking up from his car to the patio.  I looked at him, and he looked at me.  There were smiles.  Coworker and her hubs said goodbye to me and gave me hugs, and then The Bandleader and I were all alone on the patio.

Him: "You're out?"
Me: "I'm out!"
Him: "Hmmm, you're out of...........out of...................I got nothing."
Me: "What? You, nothing? But here I am expecting you say something witty!" (something like this, I was trying to tease and flirt)
Him: "I can only think of negatives.....Ah! Got it. You're...OUT OF THIS WORLD!"
Me: laughs and smiles
Him: "You are!" he gave me a big hug "Thanks so much for coming tonight! I'll see you later!"  And he walked away into the venue.

FOLLIES.  Do you see what is missing in that convo? He did not ask for my number.  He did not even invite me to a future show.  What The Fuck?  I read his body language.  I flirted.  I leaned toward him when he leaned toward me.  And this is it? THIS is how it fucking ends?

So. That’s that.  The crush has been crushed.  I'll attend future shows because shows are fun and the band is great, and aw heck, I'll flirt with him in the future, but it's clear to me that this isn't going anywhere.

Angry Don King Folly is BACK!

My brother says that when things go well and he has no end-game, then it's possible that I'm doing something wrong.  That I'm giving off a negative vibe to him.  Well - I don't think so.  I think I gave off enough positive vibes throughout and toward the end that this isn't on me.

GRRR. I need Wine!!!



**Update**
Wine has been acquired.  Commence lazy afternoon doing nothing. 

Third Time's the Charm! Or...is it?

Non-date number three is this weekend, Follies, and this is a Do or Die moment in the non-romance between The Bandleader and me.  We've met, we've chatted and hung out, we've danced the night away, and now he needs to ask for my number.  Detractors can make their claims like "Ohhhhh, don't be a pansy, YOU should ask for HIS number!" but no. I will not ask for his number.  My brother says that I may have to suck it up and do it, that it would make for a wonderful story down the road for our children a lá "your father was too chicken to ask me out" but again I say NO.  Now let me be clear, I have nothing against making a move on a guy in theory, and I often enjoy visiting known Cougar Dens to watch the older women put the moves on the hot young men.  But you see, Follies, I have asked guys out before.

It has never ended well.

It has never ended well because every time -- EVERY. TIME. -- I have ever asked a guy out they've stopped talking to me.  Completely stop talking to me.  In high school, in college, didn't matter.  I wish I could say I'm making this up or I'm exaggerating the truth but I'm not.  Literally every time I've asked a guy out they've completely cut off contact.

It's weird.

Add to that weirdness the various conversations I've had with guys since college, where nearly every guy says that a girl asking them out is forward and great but ultimately they don't like it and are actually slightly TURNED OFF by it, and suddenly I think, "Why the fuck am I putting myself out there when they don't even like it?"

Because of all this, I've reached the point where I just say "Screw It!" and I let the guys come to me.  I am a princess (sayeth my brother).  I am an apple at the top of the tree that is waiting to be picked by the right guy (sayeth this quote).  I do not simply stand in a corner and wait for guys to physically come to me.  I flirt to the best of my ability and I go out, and I make sure to enjoy myself no matter what I'm doing.  Guys talk to me.  I get attention.  At some point, guys just need to grow a friggin' ballsack and ask me out.  And if they don't ask me out after multiple interactions, I can only assume they're not actually interested.

SO.  Saturday Night.  8pm.  His band will play.  I will dance.

And, I say hopefully, I will discover if The Bandleader is interested in Folly, or if he's just being polite for the sake of his friend's wife.

It's go time.

A Pansy-chicken Man is a Blacksmith Man

My brother and I had a fun little conversation yesterday about guys being total pansy-chickens when trying to ask girls out.  He painted me a little story:

The Bro: You…I mean, I don't want this to come out the wrong way, but you come off as sort of…upper-level.

Me: Upper level?

The Bro: Yeah.

Me: So, snotty?

The Bro: No. Snotty is bad. Just upper-level . Like, guys don't feel like they're on the same level as you, so they're surprised when you actually want to hang out with them.

Me: …okay.

The Bro: So, you're the princess.  The guys are like the lowly blacksmiths who like the princess but aren't on her same level.

Me: What about the law-school guy, at the private university, who chickened out getting my number - even him?

The Bro: Is he a lawyer?

Me: He's in his last semester.

The Bro: Has he graduated?

Me: Uh, no.

The Bro: Blacksmith.

Cute.

How do you know if your gut is your Gut?

Like many teenage girls, I suffered from a terrible affliction known as the Low Self-esteem Dragon during my formative years.  If a guy looked at me, surely it was because I was an ugly, pimply teenager who had some pudge and not because I was a cute, blonde tennis player.  I was convinced I was not only fat and chunky, but that I would be fat and chunky FOREVER.  And anytime I felt that Dragon rear its ugly, scaly head, I was convinced that it was my Gut telling me the clear and present Truth of a given situation.

I wish my internal Dragon was this cute

For example, the varsity football player who flirted with me on the back staircase Junior year? Obviously he was just teasing and making fun of such an ugly kid. Gut = Truth.

Then I got older, and wiser, and realized that It Gets Better.  I happen to think I'm pretty frickin' gorgeous and awesome.  I'm better (but still not great) at flirting and decoding flirting, and I realize that you know what? Occasionally my Low Self-esteem Dragon rears it's head and that's okay.  We all have days where we don't feel good enough, or smart enough, or like anyone cares about us.  I'm human, and I'm a female human, and shitty moods happen.  But there's one thing I'm not all that great at just yet, and that is reading my Gut.

Because sometimes, and especially when it comes to matters involving the male species, I don't know whether the little voice in my head is my Dragon or my Gut.  I'd like to think I have an amazing Gut (Trevor notwithstanding. That gut is a problem child.) but sometimes I just don't know when to trust it.  If I listen to it, am I avoiding a pointless/dangerous situation (Gut)? Or am I giving up because I think I'm not worth it (Dragon)?

Most recently, I can't decide how to feel about the progress (or lack thereof) with The Bandleader.  It's hard when we only see each other once a month, and it's especially hard when he DOESN'T ask for my NUMBER at the end of the NIGHT.  It's hard because there's a middle-lady who I work with, but don't hang out with, that's trying to act as a go-between.  And what's even harder about THAT is that she and I have different views about how this setting-people-up thing works.  But that's neither here nor there (or is it?) because...

...I have this feeling about our budding (or not-so-budding) romance.  That it's not going anywhere.  That it never will go anywhere.  That it's pointless and hopeless and I should just get over my stupid little crush.

Obviously he and I had some chemistry on the dance floor.  And I think there's no denying there was an attraction (I had no problem reading that Gut reaction after our non-date).  And clearly he had a great time with me, as the subsequent conversations with Coworker and others showed. But. Butbutbutbutbut.

I don't know if my Gut is letting me know that this little crush is nothing more than a fun flame, or if my Low Self-esteem Dragon is making it's comeback as a fake gut.  Do I really feel like it's going nowhere, or am I convinced because of the time between shows and lack of other suitors that I'm not worthy, or that I'll never catch his eye, or there's too many other ladies interested in a guy who's *swoon* in a band?

I can't tell.  I really can't.  The only thing I'm sure of is that things stall out if there's too much time between events, and I don't doubt that there's a bit of stalling going on right now.  But I have a hard time going full force into something when my "gut" tells me it'll never happen.  Why should I waste my time on it? At the same time, if this isn't my Gut talking and is instead my Dragon, I don't want the Dragon to win.

So, follies, help a girl out: How do I slay my Dragon and listen to my Gut?



____
Shout out here to the It Gets Better Project (www.itgetsbetter.org).  Mr. Savage may have started it with GLBTQ teens in mind, but I think the message applies more broadly to all who have been or are currently being bullied.  We may have been raised to brush harsh words off with the old saying, "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me" but I believe that when you reach a certain age, and certainly more in today's world than what I saw when I was a child, words can and do hurt more than any stick or stone ever could.  Let's stick up for each other and reach out instead of putting down.  And what do I say? SMILE BACK!

Colin Firth....*rawr*

As promised during my drunken Twittering of the Academy Awards (and again, I'm sorry, I shouldn't mix my Twittering and my drinking), here's my celeb crush of Mr. Darcy-- I mean, King George VI-- I MEAN Colin.  Firth.  Colin Firth.  Right right.

Enjoy :)

Credit to www.celebszz.com for the photos!

How I met . . . Atticus

It was the first time I'd ever been to the theatre alone.  It intimidated me, not having anyone to go and discuss with me the dialogue, the set, the costuming; differences between Shaw and Wilde.  No, it was the first time I'd gone alone, and looking back perhaps it was meant to happen that way.  The bestie and her mother were set to join me, then just the bestie, but at the last minute she couldn't make it either.  There I was - blonde bob, black button-up, and awkwardly-stiff black Anthropologie skirt - sitting and waiting a little impatiently for the doors to open when he approached.

He was a little taller than I was, with dark hair and a tanned complexion. We chatted pleasantly, about the school and the theatre program.  He was an alumnus of both and was surprised to find out I was still an undergrad there.  I was much younger than he expected, he said, but he'd love to take me out for coffee sometime.  The conversation continued and he spoke more about his job teaching theatre at one of the alternative high schools in town.  In fact, he told me, he was on a theatre field trip with his students right now!  I looked across the lobby in the direction he pointed and saw approximately 10-15 high-school-aged kids all sitting around on benches, waiting for the show.  Awkward! I thought, Is he only talking to me on a dare from the students? It was a horrible thing to think, but I couldn’t help it.  As the conversation continued, the offer for coffee turned into an offer for dinner, perhaps Sushi? Once the doors to the show opened, he stood up, with my number in hand, and made his way back across the lobby to his pupils.

I didn't know how to feel.  On the one hand, I couldn't believe that a guy - a real guy! - was talking to me!!  On the other, he was hitting on me during a field trip - wasn't that a little weird? I was amused, and suddenly smitten.

At the intermission, he came over to my seat to talk to me about the stage and costumes, and he seemed noticeably uncomfortable.  He told me that he thought I was not there alone, as I'd previously told him I was, and that instead I was with the young gentlemen who'd been seated to my right.  Atticus relaxed when I told him that no, I was not with the gentleman to my right.  At the end of the intermission and our awkward chat, he retreated back to his student group.  After the show, I wanted to talk to him, but he left the building offering the line of students behind him the use of his cell phone to call their parents.

I went back to my bestie's apartment and shared the news of what just happened.  I'd been hit on! I was excited!  I couldn't think of the last time a guy was interested in me, and I couldn't wait for him to call so I could see him again.  I was absolutely convinced that this was my last chance at finding love.  I was halfway through my undergraduate years, and this was the first time I'd ever been asked out.  SURELY this was it, my last chance to find a man.  I was over the moon – and incredibly anxious and nervous.  What would happen next?

Happy Hours can be productive. Sometimes.

I went to a happy hour tonight with some coworkers (though "happy hour" is a misnomer since the bar did not actually have any happy hour specials) and the subject of The Bandleader came up.

First, The Coworker brought some male friends with her, and my Supervisor came up behind me, tapped me on the shoulder, and said, "OH MY GOSH is The Bandleader here??" Naturally, I spun around and was mildly disappointed when The Bandleader was, in fact, not there.

Sadness.

But later, as the night wore on, I spoke to a direct coworker of The Coworker and we started talking about The Bandleader.  Specifically, what I thought of The Bandleader and what he had told The Coworker about me.

Remember this? Yeah, me too. Well, I discussed this with the direct coworker, and I was joking about how slowly things were moving, and how it seemed like The Coworker wasn't going to tell me how The Bandleader felt about our non-date.  I mentioned this, and the direct coworker said,

"Oh my gosh, that's so funny, because The Coworker was totally conflicted about telling you! Apparently The Bandleader was all "tell Folly I had a ball with her if she asks" and so she didn't know whether or not to tell you before you asked her about it!!"

Well, follies, well.  It appears that a) It's a damn good thing I brought up The Bandleader with The Coworker because otherwise I would not have known that The Bandleader "had a ball" with me and b) DUDE, the loyalty here lies with THE GIRL and not THE GUY when you are setting them up *sigh*

Love her, she's sweet, but I swear The Coworker does not know how to set anyone up.  I mean, it's comical.  I laugh about it.  My life is a sitcom, and I'm starting to just embrace that little quirk.

BUT, the direct coworker did reassure me that despite what The Coworker told me the first night of the set up, her intention is in fact getting me and The Bandleader together as a COUPLE, and not just "as friends or whatever might happen" (as she told me that first night).

So, anyhoo, tonight was great, I got some more details on The Bandleader and such (which helps with the whole things-are-crawling feeling I'm getting) , and I'm overall in a great mood.  For that I must also credit the lack of caffeine, which is also helping with my sleep issues.

But I do miss my extra strong, dark roast coffee in the mornings *tear*