STOP THE PRESSES!!

Good heavens, Follies, STOP THE PRESSES!!

WNG contacted me.  The guy I'd completely written off contacted me, eager to get together after a few busy weeks at work.

Say wha--?

I'd really written him off.  I mean, sure, my gut a while back told me to wait it out, and my two closest, bestest friends told me to wait it out a bit longer, but based on every previous experience ever, when a guy says he's too busy, it does NOT mean he's too busy.  It means he's not interested in ever seeing me again and can't say so.

But now, here's WNG.

We have two dates set up - today and Tuesday.  I was just perusing a singles event at the local zoo (happening in two weeks) and was pricing tickets when he contacted me.  I wonder if I can convince him to purchase a ticket...we can pretend to meet there...I mean, listen, people at this event get to take part in interactive exhibits with the animals.  I could meet a giraffe, or an elephant.  So, I kinda want to go.

Anyhoo, back to the point of this post - not that there is a point, but I'll try to come up with one - apparently, guys really can be busy.  I don't think it excuses him disappearing for a while, but in his case, it was true.

Which means I really don't understand guys now.  But at least I have one happy point back in my life. Now, to work on happying the other points...

Folly Gets Serious

At first, I was convinced I was Depressed.  The feeling's been going on for a few weeks now and I even put calling my doctor on my list of Things To Do But Will Procrastinate In Doing, but there was something off about it.  Something not so...sad.  Now, I'm generally a Depressive person, and I know what Depression feels like for me.  This was off.  So then I decided I must be suffering from Anxiety.  Again, something I know about.  In high school, I used to suffer Panic Attacks and Vertigo just at the thought of raising my hand to answer a question.

Despite my love of Alfred Hitchcock, I can't stand this movie.

I decided against the Anxiety when I realized I wasn't actually anxious about anything.  So I went back to Depression.

I'm still not positive that's what it is, since it seems different than what I've experienced before, but I'm certainly feeling something.  I have a lot of reasons to feel run-down, depressed, stressed-out, or more.  Mom is still unemployed, has been for 19 months, and it's really taking a toll on her.  She's very depressed, lacking confidence, and, as it happens with unemployment, money is tight.  She's also admitted that it's taking a toll on her and my father's relationship.

I'm not seriously worried about them, but I don't like to hear those things.

In addition, I spent the last four weeks training for my first ever 5k race, held on The Fourth.  I didn't run the 3.1 miles straight through, but I did my darndest and I achieved all of my goals for the event:
A.   Finish in under 45 minutes
B.   Don't be the last to finish
C.   Just Finish. Alive.

That other time is the "chip time", whatever that is.

I finished the race in 37:43.83, well under my 45 minute goal. YAY ME! Unfortunately, the training and the race left me completely spent.  I'll be honest - I did not take as good of care of myself as I should have with the training and the running.  I didn't drink enough water, I didn't eat enough protein - lesson learned, for sure.

So, what do we have so far? We have mom's stressors, which are a domino effect for the rest of the family.  We have physical stressors, from the running and the training.  We have the already existing stressors from trying to figure out a career path and dealing with Trevor the Terrible Large Intestine.

My feet are covered with 'skeeter bites (apparently wearing flip-flops, after running, on a summer night = bugs descend like crazy).  Oh, my computer keeps going berserk-o on me and I have no idea why!

Basically, it all adds up to be not being in a good head space.  Then, of course, there's WNG.  WNG is working a lot, and he was gone on the holiday weekend, and so I haven't seen him in over two weeks.  I haven't spoken to him on the phone in almost as long.  We've conversed ever-so-briefly via text messages in the last two days, but we haven't made any plans to see each other.

This upsets me.

But I can't tell if it upsets me because there's actually a root issue, or if it upsets me because I have so much going on right now that I can't deal with a boy at the moment.

I've tried to listen to my Gut, and determine if it's a Gut Issue or a Dragon Issue, but I have no feeling about it.  No Gut feelings.  No Dragon feelings.  Just unclear, upset feelings.

I don't really know where I'm going with this rant.  I started writing all these things down for myself and felt the need to share them with others.  Perhaps I'm just tired and just need some sleep.  Perhaps I somehow managed to fuck things up with this great guy and ended up with a crash-n-burn relationship to show for it.  Or, perhaps I'm just overthinking things with WNG because of other things going on right now. 

I don't know.  I just really don't know what's going on with any part of my life right now.  When I go back and preview the post, I feel so stupid about even complaining about the WNG issues.  I read what I've written and think, logically, this is No. Big. Deal.  But it doesn't feel like it's no big deal.

Geez, what am I, 17 again?

Effff.....

Men Be Actin' Crazy Up In Here

Monday morning, I saw Mr. Andy Griffith.  I see him often, as I grab my early-morning coffee, but Monday morning was different.  He asked me to have a seat with him for a while.  I sat to chat, but I felt mildly uncomfortable.  This changed up my whole morning.  Usually, I get into work about 20 minutes early, with the office to myself, and eat breakfast and drink coffee.  I get time alone to wake up, destress from the morning commute, and prep for the day.  But instead I was with Mr. Andy Griffith who, as it turns out, is rather talkative in the morning.

And Monday morning, he talked an awful lot - mostly about his son.  Who is a firefighter.  And who just happened to be coming to meet his dad for coffee on Wednesday morning.

Which, naturally, meant I should be sure to show my face at my coffee place on Wednesday morning.

So I did.  I figured it couldn't be a bad idea, right? I wasn't changing my routine for anyone, and why should I consciously pass up the opportunity to meet a single firefighter? This morning I waltzed into the coffee shop for my coffee, a smile on my face, eyes bright -- no small feat after being out all night at a concert.  (I'm an old lady, I just can't do that on a work night anymore!)

I purchased my coffee cup.

I filled my cup with coffee.

I turned to Mr. Andy Griffith. There was no Firefighter.  He asked me to sit with him, and I did, but I was clear that I could only stay for a few minutes.  He told me how much he had missed me when I didn't get my coffee yesterday.  Even before I met Mr. Andy Griffith, I did not visit the shop every day.  I can't afford to buy coffee every day.  But now, if I don't go in every morning, he tells me in an old, creepy way how much he misses me.

We chatted for a bit.  He talked about politics (not an okay topic, when he doesn't know me) and I politely excused myself after a few minutes so I could get to work on time.  He took my hand in both of his to say goodbye - a slightly old-fashioned but not necessarily inappropriate gesture - and held it tightly. Very tightly.  And he wouldn't let go. 

And Folly's stomach got that feeling, you know, the Gut, if you will, that maybe I don't like Mr. Andy Griffith so much anymore.  I wasn't sure how to feel about him the past week, when he started talking to me more and more, but sometimes Folly can be a mean little bitch, and he seemed like such a nice old man.

Well, Folly no longer cares if she's a mean little bitch because The Gut is raring in full force, and Mr. Andy Griffith is giving me the willies.  Follies, if you have some advice on how to excise the talkative Mr. Andy Griffith from my morning coffee run, please let me know.  I don't want to give up my coffee place, but I dread the thought of telling an old man that he's crossed a creepy-line, when he may or may not even know it.  I don't know, Follies, I don't know.  I just know my Gut is really fired up about this guy.


____


In other news, Coworker talked to me today about The Bandleader.  Turns out he's been pining over a girl for over a YEAR now, and they started dating at about the time Coworker introduced us, but she didn't know about the girl until recently.  So.  I was correct in trusting my gut and not contacting him.  He sounds like a repeat of D, and I don't need that!

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... ;)

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

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 :)

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!