Sat by myself in a coffee shop
... for a whole hour, reading Wicked and drinking a caramel latte. It was awfully coffee-tasting. Still pretty good, but I didn't like it quite as much as the ones I make at home. Mine really taste like caramel.
Sandy told me that doing something like that is hardest the first time, and it won't bother me nearly as much when I do it again.
But I have to admit that my hands were shaking for all but the last 10 minutes I was there.
Yes, he was there but all he did regarding me was ask if I had my punch card with me (I didn't) and hand me back the gift card I was using. Never said another word to me and didn't really come near to where I was sitting when he was straightening tables and chairs.
Hmmmm.... He gave me such a wide berth that one would think I had visible signs of plague. LOL I dunno. I guess it's possible that I seemed so engrossed in my book he was just being polite in not disturbing me for something so mundane as chair shuffling.
Sandy said that eventually he's not gonna be able to stand being pointedly ignored by me, and that being a man, he'll be compelled at some point to at least utter some token phrase to me. LOL Now that would really give me a good laugh. The kind of laugh I don't like to make in public. :D
When I finished my drink, I got up and left without so much as a backward glance. Heck, for all I know he didn't even notice that I was still in the cafe anyway. I know that he was, because he decided to go over to someone sitting about 10 feet to my right and carry on a conversation about running a coffee shop. I only caught a couple of snatches of what they said because I really was engrossed in my book. Turning the page is what distracted me.
But it was pretty nice to sit there with my hot coffee, because it was so cold and gloomy outside today. I don't know if that's a usual afternoon, but though they were busy, not many people actually stayed to drink their drinks. Only about half of those that came in took a seat.
And yes, I was really concerned that there would be a lot of people in there, which would make me nervous in and of itself and I'd do something completely embarrassing, like slip and fall. I don't fall pretty.
Heck, I just broke my big toe a couple of weeks ago flipping my mattress. (Single women living alone are at a woeful disadvantage. But who could I have asked to help me?) My toe bent backwards, trying to fold under my foot. I know that it broke back past the knuckle and probably in my instep. No big deal, it only hurts sometimes when I walk. Not like a doctor could do anything to help me with a cracked toe anyway. In another 5 weeks, I bet it won't hurt anymore.
Back to the coffee shop story.
Unfortunately, I sat where a reading lamp would be over my shoulder and the couches, filled with cursing teenagers (yes, they were trying to impress anyone they could with their talk, they were so loud) just happened to be right behind me. *sigh*
I sat facing the door so that I wouldn't have the childishly stupid impulse to sneak glances at him. Because no matter how irritated I get with how dismissive he was to me, I'd still go out with him if he asked. But I'm not going to ask. I really think I've gotten an accurate idea of how interested he is in being friends with me.
As far as dating goes, I KNOW he's thinking he's way out of my league. I still remember what he put on his match.com profile about who he's interested in finding. I'm not tall enough, not thin enough, not blonde enough, not pretty enough, and definitely not young enough. He said that he was looking for someone 18-39. At the time he posted that, he was 36 himself. It kind of sends up a red flag to me that he'd like a girl half his age. That he'd even be willing to date someone 18 years old at his age.
Possibly it's my own opinions of age coloring my perception. An 18 year old is still a freaking kid if you ask me, and even at 25, we're all still pretty darn immature. *I* wouldn't want to date a 25 year old at this age.
I know somebody in her 40s who is about to marry a fellow who graduated from high school the year after I did. She's well over 10 years older than he is. Of course, she's pretty much a hottie and always will be, so she'll always have her choice of men, and I am still going to be the wallflower in the corner. It isn't like my state of being single is in any way connected to her, but it bugs me that someone so much older than I am has been dating right and left since she and her husband separated, and she really didn't slow down even when he committed suicide not long after that.
I guess I should be happy for her, and going on and on about how wonderfully lucky she is to have found someone she wants to be with, but I'm not. The green-eyed monster is definitely breathing down my neck a little bit.
Not that I want him for myself. It's just that at this point I'd take anybody who was the least bit nice to me and put on a good enough act of caring for me. After all these years of being single and literally dateless (absolutely no interest from any men I've come across), I'm not simply feeling cursed. I feel completely defective as a person.
Ha ha. 4 years ago on a whim, another teacher and I had our fortunes told by tarot readers, while we were at a conference. Do I believe in that stuff? Hard to say. When I used to play with them myself, I always turned up the same end result: I'll never find anyone to love me, and it is completely outside of my control. I was just curious to see if anything had changed since I was an undergrad.
Well, she started laying down cards, and as she put them down, I read them myself. By the time she laid the last card, she started acting nervous and saying it was unclear, and started slapping down more cards. The first time, the cards said I'd never find anyone, and it was out of my hands. By that time I was kind of snickering to myself, because she'd slap down a few cards (and they were negative in meaning) mumble something under her breath, and slap down a few more bad ones. LOL
She finally paused for a minute and fabricated a sweet little future for me that had nothing at all to do with any of those cards. hehehe She said I'd be buying a new house and getting married in 2006 to a very successful businessman. Ha. ha. ha. Obviously that didn't happen. :D
Now I don't believe that because several handfuls of tarot cards told me my life will be loveless that's why things are the way they are for me. I already had a lot of that worry and despair coming out of middle school. That's why I was always so determined to make sure I had a career which would pay well enough for me to take care of myself. I spent all that time alone growing up, so I had no reason to believe it would ever change. I'm not exactly a social butterfly that people flock to.
Oh well. That is my lot in life and I've accepted it. It reminds me of a movie line (I can't quote it verbatim) in which a character states that knowing his destiny and the time of his death, trying to fight it will only cause him extraordinary pain and he'll still die. In other words, don't fight destiny. The pain will be awful and you'll die anyway.
Sandy told me that doing something like that is hardest the first time, and it won't bother me nearly as much when I do it again.
But I have to admit that my hands were shaking for all but the last 10 minutes I was there.
Yes, he was there but all he did regarding me was ask if I had my punch card with me (I didn't) and hand me back the gift card I was using. Never said another word to me and didn't really come near to where I was sitting when he was straightening tables and chairs.
Hmmmm.... He gave me such a wide berth that one would think I had visible signs of plague. LOL I dunno. I guess it's possible that I seemed so engrossed in my book he was just being polite in not disturbing me for something so mundane as chair shuffling.
Sandy said that eventually he's not gonna be able to stand being pointedly ignored by me, and that being a man, he'll be compelled at some point to at least utter some token phrase to me. LOL Now that would really give me a good laugh. The kind of laugh I don't like to make in public. :D
When I finished my drink, I got up and left without so much as a backward glance. Heck, for all I know he didn't even notice that I was still in the cafe anyway. I know that he was, because he decided to go over to someone sitting about 10 feet to my right and carry on a conversation about running a coffee shop. I only caught a couple of snatches of what they said because I really was engrossed in my book. Turning the page is what distracted me.
But it was pretty nice to sit there with my hot coffee, because it was so cold and gloomy outside today. I don't know if that's a usual afternoon, but though they were busy, not many people actually stayed to drink their drinks. Only about half of those that came in took a seat.
And yes, I was really concerned that there would be a lot of people in there, which would make me nervous in and of itself and I'd do something completely embarrassing, like slip and fall. I don't fall pretty.
Heck, I just broke my big toe a couple of weeks ago flipping my mattress. (Single women living alone are at a woeful disadvantage. But who could I have asked to help me?) My toe bent backwards, trying to fold under my foot. I know that it broke back past the knuckle and probably in my instep. No big deal, it only hurts sometimes when I walk. Not like a doctor could do anything to help me with a cracked toe anyway. In another 5 weeks, I bet it won't hurt anymore.
Back to the coffee shop story.
Unfortunately, I sat where a reading lamp would be over my shoulder and the couches, filled with cursing teenagers (yes, they were trying to impress anyone they could with their talk, they were so loud) just happened to be right behind me. *sigh*
I sat facing the door so that I wouldn't have the childishly stupid impulse to sneak glances at him. Because no matter how irritated I get with how dismissive he was to me, I'd still go out with him if he asked. But I'm not going to ask. I really think I've gotten an accurate idea of how interested he is in being friends with me.
As far as dating goes, I KNOW he's thinking he's way out of my league. I still remember what he put on his match.com profile about who he's interested in finding. I'm not tall enough, not thin enough, not blonde enough, not pretty enough, and definitely not young enough. He said that he was looking for someone 18-39. At the time he posted that, he was 36 himself. It kind of sends up a red flag to me that he'd like a girl half his age. That he'd even be willing to date someone 18 years old at his age.
Possibly it's my own opinions of age coloring my perception. An 18 year old is still a freaking kid if you ask me, and even at 25, we're all still pretty darn immature. *I* wouldn't want to date a 25 year old at this age.
I know somebody in her 40s who is about to marry a fellow who graduated from high school the year after I did. She's well over 10 years older than he is. Of course, she's pretty much a hottie and always will be, so she'll always have her choice of men, and I am still going to be the wallflower in the corner. It isn't like my state of being single is in any way connected to her, but it bugs me that someone so much older than I am has been dating right and left since she and her husband separated, and she really didn't slow down even when he committed suicide not long after that.
I guess I should be happy for her, and going on and on about how wonderfully lucky she is to have found someone she wants to be with, but I'm not. The green-eyed monster is definitely breathing down my neck a little bit.
Not that I want him for myself. It's just that at this point I'd take anybody who was the least bit nice to me and put on a good enough act of caring for me. After all these years of being single and literally dateless (absolutely no interest from any men I've come across), I'm not simply feeling cursed. I feel completely defective as a person.
Ha ha. 4 years ago on a whim, another teacher and I had our fortunes told by tarot readers, while we were at a conference. Do I believe in that stuff? Hard to say. When I used to play with them myself, I always turned up the same end result: I'll never find anyone to love me, and it is completely outside of my control. I was just curious to see if anything had changed since I was an undergrad.
Well, she started laying down cards, and as she put them down, I read them myself. By the time she laid the last card, she started acting nervous and saying it was unclear, and started slapping down more cards. The first time, the cards said I'd never find anyone, and it was out of my hands. By that time I was kind of snickering to myself, because she'd slap down a few cards (and they were negative in meaning) mumble something under her breath, and slap down a few more bad ones. LOL
She finally paused for a minute and fabricated a sweet little future for me that had nothing at all to do with any of those cards. hehehe She said I'd be buying a new house and getting married in 2006 to a very successful businessman. Ha. ha. ha. Obviously that didn't happen. :D
Now I don't believe that because several handfuls of tarot cards told me my life will be loveless that's why things are the way they are for me. I already had a lot of that worry and despair coming out of middle school. That's why I was always so determined to make sure I had a career which would pay well enough for me to take care of myself. I spent all that time alone growing up, so I had no reason to believe it would ever change. I'm not exactly a social butterfly that people flock to.
Oh well. That is my lot in life and I've accepted it. It reminds me of a movie line (I can't quote it verbatim) in which a character states that knowing his destiny and the time of his death, trying to fight it will only cause him extraordinary pain and he'll still die. In other words, don't fight destiny. The pain will be awful and you'll die anyway.
posted by Me at 11:00 PM
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