I had this ranty angry full-of-feelings blog written out earlier today. I was sitting, waiting for my car to be serviced, with plenty of time to delve into some not-so-fun topics, when I roughed out a fairly good blog entry.
But that’s not what I’m posting today. You’ll get that one next time.
I feel like I can’t post that blog, not now, not when my cheeks hurt from smiling, not when I feel like this.
Some may know what the name of this particular blog entry is in reference to, and if you don’t that’s okay. I’ll explain in just a moment.
I picked the name for two reasons. 1- I’ve been working on a project (that I’ll hopefully debut soon) that happened to feature that very line exactly one year ago; I found it quite apropos for what I’m writing about now. And 2- It was what I was thinking earlier today, what kept circling through my mind, while I had a long chat in a coffee shop.
I’ve made it known that I’m trying out OKCupid with varying degrees of meh. Up until recently, I had mostly less-than-stellar persons messaging me, mostly looking for casual sex, which in and of itself was not a bad thing, but the lack of caring in even the initial gestures was, well, shitty.
Recently I revamped my profile and came at OKC from a different angle: I would be discerning, and blunt, and not put up with less than I felt was worthy of my time and energy.
This did two things. (Can you tell I like lists?) 1- The volume of my messages severely decreased. And 2- The quality of my messages greatly increased.
Thus I found myself today going on my third OKC date.
Being that my first two had been less than desired, I decided to give myself a carrot for the possible stick that would come. I swung through a nearby shop and glanced through their clothes. I saw a few things here and there that I liked, and I promised myself that if I just got through the date I would allow myself to come back.
So, having perked up my attitude, knowing at the very least I would reward myself with something from the store if everything else about the next minimum fifteen minutes went wrong, I walked to the coffee shop.
I popped open my OKC app to look up the gentleman’s name and glanced at his picture again so that I could find him among the crowd. As I stepped into the line, I looked to my right and saw a rather handsome man sitting at a table.
I checked the app again.
Holy shit. I think that… Yes. Yes!
I took a few deep breaths, containing my glee. My stomach growled, so I picked up a snack with my hot chocolate. I paid. I centered my thoughts, tamped down my giddiness, and waited for my drink. Everything in hand, I walked over.
We exchanged hellos. I sat down. We started chatting. The chat lasted for longer than fifteen minutes.
I won’t go into much more detail, but I will say this: I found myself asking, over and over again, Is this it? Is this it? Could this be a person I spend more time with? Befriend? Fuck? More than fuck?
Obviously, I didn’t get my answer; it is far too soon, having just met him.
Well, actually, no… I did get an answer. Maybe. Maybe this could be something. Maybe this is it, whatever it is. And that was way more than I had expected, or even hoped for, when my day began.
As our talk progressed from the coffee shop to a few nearby stores, including picking up some more fun/funky socks for myself, I found myself smiling and laughing and genuinely enjoying my time with him. We talked Dr. Who, BSG, and the Whedonverse. So far, I really like this guy.
What do you know? Doc was right. I just had to stay open and keep looking.
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