Life as of late has been a rollercoaster, but it’s summer! And I’m about to be a new age! And I’ve decided that both occasions make wearing bras or pants obsolete! More bikini tops and tank tops, leggings and dresses!
"Rather than hold on to a broken dream I’ll just hold on to love…"
(I can’t take credit for the line, but I can fess up to having Alicia Keys’ “Try Sleeping With a Broken Heart” on repeat for a few days last week. And like a month last year, when the lyrics obviously made a lot more sense.)
But it’s June!
So I’m switching the song to Katy Perry “California Gurls” because I can. And because I love her nomatterwhatanyonesays.
Now the advice seeking part…Every guy I’ve ever dated I’ve known through someone. I mean, that’s how this thing usually goes, right? Well, lately, I’ve been considering other options…and I’m not talking the internet. Been there. Done that.
Which leaves me with chance encounters. Case in point. Today. Just now. At lunch with a friend. A brand new Prius pulls up. An attractive guy gets out, opens the back door to get his dog, and starts walking across the street. His loose scarf swaying in the wind, his tousled not-too-long hair not quite flopping, and his loose long sleeve button-down looking perfectly relaxed. The hipster de mes reves. It was like a mirage. Did I mention he was wearing aviators? Because he was.
I point him out to my friend (who confirmed his attractiveness), and assume aloud that a guy like that doesn’t just come into a place like this solo…he’s obviously meeting someone. He goes inside to order and returns. Still alone. The counter girl brings out his number and Diet Coke. Wait a second. Diet Coke? He’s obviously gay, right? My friend says maybe not. Maybe he’s a model or an actor. Neither of these things interest me so I poo poo the possibility.
Then we wonder what the next step is. (It should be mentioned here that said friend is happily married and no longer has to worry about these things.) And this is where the advice comes in. How do you pick up total strangers? Starting conversation I obviously get and can handle, but how do you translate that into a date? I’m on the brink of 30 + 2, shouldn’t I know these things by now?
Of course our first idea was to use the dog. But the dog abandoned me by sitting on the opposite side of his table from the walkway I would use to pass them by. I contemplated just sitting down at the table with him and being like “So how does this work, I sit down, say something witty, and we spend the rest of the afternoon wondering how we’ve lasted this long without each other’s company?”
Now THAT would be ballsy. But SO risky. And remember, I’m not wearing a bra or pants so that’s quite a first impression to make.
In the end, we left without saying a word. Chickens.
But a similar thing happened over the wkend while camping in Big Bear. On a liquor run at the grocery store, my slightly inebriated friend picked up a traveling journalist for me. I met up with them in line and she had him primed for me. She told him that I, too was a journalist…we shared some chit chat about romantic things like the oil slick that will soon surely float into the Atlantic Ocean and up the Mississippi River. He, too, was tousled, more rugged than hipster, but sometimes I go that way. Think a slightly-less attractive, straight, but work-ethically-similar version of Anderson Cooper.
And I’m not sure how that conversation ended. There was a likely-presumed-empty invite to the campsite, there was knowledge that he was staying at a hotel in town for the night…but I didn’t bite the bullet. And that’s where I fail, I guess. That’s the step I don’t take.
I can flirt, and enjoy doing so. A lot. Especially via text. I just need help with the follow through part. Let’s get serious, none of this info is shocking.
In other news, I have no movie or music reviews to post here. I haven’t seen a movie in WAY too long. As far as music, I’ve been listening to a lot of depressingly awesome stuff on Pandora…And I just realized that Martie and Emily (the sisters portion of the Dixie Chicks) released the debut album under their new group: Courtyard Hounds. So I’m downloading that as we speak to check that out.
Oh and yeah, how about that earlier part where I mentioned camping? I loved it. I mean except for the freezing part the first night. I love being able to get out of the city so easily. To sit around a fire chit-chatting with new friends. Under a blanket of stars that looks impossibly real. Unlike my last camping experience on the Colorado River, this place had bathrooms! What luxury!
There is something to be said for fresh air and no distractions or obligations. No schedules. For someone who now watches copious amounts of tv on a nightly basis for occupational reasons, I didn’t even miss it. It was refreshing to know that my healthy relationship with the boob tube is still in full effect.
There’s also something to be said for going camping with a group of people who bring things like brie. I heart brie.
We vowed to camp more this summer. To explore beach camping, which again, is SO accessible. We walked around and scoped out others campsites. We daydreamed over tents with doors and Airstream trailers. Yes please!!
In the words of Regina Spektor, “Let’s get a silver bullet trailer, and have a baby boy. I’ll safety pin his clothes all cool and you’ll graffiti up his toys.”
Ooh speaking of! My gma gave me her sewing machine, and there’s a place down the street called Home Ec that has sewing classes. I super sucked at Home Ec the first time around, so I really feel like it’s time to redeem myself.
Until next time…someone teach me how to pick up boys. Kthxbye. I mean, it’s ok for me to not wait for them to pick me up, right?