Tag Archives: Chi-guy

feeling giddy

I’m on vacation. I brought the children to Chicago to see some sights…and you know who’s in this town:  Chi-guy! I’ve already seen him (and, sadly, he’s feeling sick)… But, oh, what a gentleman! What manners!

My children are with me, and tomorrow we have a play date planned with him and his daughter, so I have no illusions of any “adult” fun. It’s just that the energy of this city excites me — and something about Chi-guy’s dreamy energy gives me a delightfully giddy, girlie feeling!

 


…and I thought this was going to be funny!

So…when I began writing about all this divorce and dating garbage a few months ago, I somehow imagined that I would be having all kinds of interesting relationship experiences that I could write about, and that I would encounter lots of different men and have countless hilarious tales to tell about these meetings…

And that has not happened.

Why?

Well, it’s dawning on me, as it may have also on you, that working full-time and parenting the other full-time consumes a hella chunk o’ time. And there’s not much left for dating or meeting people or romantic or ridiculous encounters of any time. And, frankly, the filtering part of online dating eats up so much time that I’d just as soon spend some QT with my gals.

So, aside from the whole Chi-guy situation, which is funny on general principle alone, and the humor in which has very little to do with the way I tell the story, I have to face facts:  I am just not that funny! Not that funny anymore, at any rate. Sure, the bright side is that I’m blessed with a full range of emotions and that, overall, writing about all this stuff has been rather cathartic.

Yet all this makes me think back to more frivolous times, when I was light-hearted and delightful and embodied all manner of other characterizations inclusive of lightness, frivolity, fun and laughter…and I wonder, am I not there? What has happened to the witty, vivacious me?

I realize that, at home each night with grammar school-aged children, it’s easy to be silly. Silly is one thing; funny is quite another. And I used to be funny!

Of course, I am thinking about all this because I’ve discovered The Blogess who, as you might have already guessed, is Funny with a capital f! She does, naturally, have a relationship to write about…so no end to the potential for humorous fodder.

Oh, I know that I’m in there (here) all right. The irreverent, playful ol’ gal comes out to play at least every other weekend and sometimes more often. In recalling her (me), I am reminded of how much fun it was to come home to another playful adult during the times things were grand and we were, indeed, mirthful together.

Funny comes much more naturally when it has someone to bounce off of.

(And, yes, I’m fully aware that I should not be ending my sentences with a preposition, Bitch!)


are my feelings finally growing up?

There are things I don’t reveal here …and maybe shouldn’t ever reveal. Not every entry lends itself to complete and full-on truth. It’s not a journal I’m writing here; it’s a blog. And I want to shape each entry, to create form, something like a chapter. So I give about 95% and keep just a little sliver to myself, to enjoy, to revel in knowing a secret — my own secrets.

But here’s something I want to be straight about that I wasn’t really before. I was really attached to the idea of Chi-guy for a long time. And then I met more-like-it. In one 75-minute meeting, all of that attachment to a man in Chicago was snapped completely.

Don’t get me wrong, the love is still there. It’s a deep, true, generous and heartfelt concern for a truly wonderful human. But I’m detached about it now. I’m in a more mature place with it; I have a more objective perspective. Sometimes when Chi-guy and I talk now, we joke about the naughty things we’re going to do to one another when we see each other… but we make no plans to see each other. And if we did see each other, I’m fairly confident that we’re both going to live in the moment and do whatever feels right with acceptance, compassion, presence and love, whether that’s talking or touching or crying or laughing or gettin’ jiggy.

So the thought has crossed my mind more than once that more-like-it is someone who came into my life solely for the purposes of breaking the Chi-guy spell, proving there are more options, reminding me that really awesome guys live in this city and — this is my girlfriends’ summation — reminding me what type of man is “in my league.” Maybe that’s it, yet…

All this talk about more-like-it could easily lead one to believe that I’m hung up on him. But it’s not really like that. What I’ve felt all along is more like intrigue, a general interest in spending more time (which I’ve enjoyed) to see if I like him. I mean, I like him…yet I don’t know whether I like him. I’m not sure yet…I’m simply drawn in, curious. There’s been no instant infatuation, just an undercurrent of desire to see what might be around the next corner.

And, maybe because it doesn’t feel urgent or intense, my own feelings seem more mature. It’s not the kind of thing that Elizabeth Gilbert so eloquently wrote in Committed, “puts me through the wood chipper.” Maybe that’s why I want to feel more of it, and why I’m open to noticing and experiencing that feeling, from whatever direction it may come.


on drunk dialing / texting

Last weekend…

I’m home from a Memorial weekend barbecue and I’ve had two whole drinks which, when one imbibes as much as I do (rarely or not at all), can render me word-slurring inebriated. And of course my natural instinct is to dial up or text Chi-guy or more-like-it or some other obscure item from my past. So I thought I’d see if I can write instead and make a go of musing about what sort of foolish crap might come out of my mouth if I actual did dial someone up.

First of all, if I did dial Chi-guy, would he be amused or annoyed with me? He no longer drinks at all, remember. He is charming and sweet and long-suffering, as far as I can tell. And, the last time we were together, he suggested I order an after-dinner drink…which were listed under “Happy Endings” on the menu. I thought briefly about suggesting that he might give me one instead which, frankly, might have opened that whole discussion a little less awkwardly. In any case, Chi-guy treats me with a certain combination of “you’re so sweet!” and “you’re a total slut!” and condescension. I know that sounds bad, but it’s actually a great balance of hysterically funny and positively charming, without being syrupy sweet. Sure, I’d watch the tone very closely if ever I were to spend time with him, but the jabs that could be mean are so well timed and outright hilarious that it’s difficult to imagine that he could ever mean harm. That said, a couple years into a relationship, one views things entirely differently…

If I texted more-like-it, would he respond? I haven’t told you that we communicate regularly, weirdly. What is that, anyway? What is that “I know you’re looking for something special, so I’m out. Hey how’s your week going?” WTF? A man who wants to be friends, really? So why are we always talking about sex? Especially when his online dating profile clearly stated he didn’t want to be friends with benefits? Yeah, I’m a little confused about that one.

But all that’s cool. Here’s why:  because I’m not chasing men. If a guy is interested, he’s going to be absolutely certain I know. Hell, even the guy in the adjacent cubicle at work has made clear he finds me attractive, even without saying anything out of line. If anything, it’s me who’s exhibited the appallingly bad behavior. I am simply not cut out for corporate HR departments…how the hell would I deal with me in a similar situation?!

So thank you for listening to my mojito-induced blather…and for keeping me out of trouble! Good night.


have I mentioned what my mother thinks?

My mother has just popped in for a visit… I’m not sure whether I’ve explicitly mentioned this or not:  my mother thinks Chi-guy rocks. Why?

Because I told her what happened in Chicago last Labor Day Weekend. I told her that I’d been flirting with a guy I’ve long known, that I was pretty sure we were going to sleep together and that, although I’d made my interest known, he patted me on the knee, told me he liked me and bid me goodnight…potentially the single most humiliating experience of my life.

Her response: “So you finally met a decent man!”

To which I might ask, “what kind of mother-f$#%ing c@#%-sucker would let a girl believe he was good to go and then turn her down?”

Even having seen a photo of “The Hammer” (yes, I’ve actually showed my mother), she thinks he must be pretty great. (Of course, anyone who’s seen the hammer thinks he’s pretty great!)

But let’s take a step back and analyze this train of thought:  it would appear that my mother, who has never once met or spoken with Chi-guy, thinks he is fabulous based only on his refusal to sleep with me. Because of some weird “he liked me” whatever thing that was going on with him. Which struck me as very high school at the time.

So let’s consider the fact that most of the men in the world have not slept with me. And this fact is not due entirely to refusals, but also my own good sense. In fact, while Chi-guy might tease me about being easy, this is not entirely the case. True, I’ve been probably too honest with him about my post-divorce escapades… yet I am, in fact, very selective.

There are an awful lot of men I haven’t slept with. To be sure, I haven’t slept with most men. I haven’t even slept with most single men within in a given desirable age range and aesthetic within a five-mile radius. Does this make them all fabulous potential mates? According to my mother’s reasoning, one might think so…or perhaps it might only if they turned me down.

Chi-guy laughs at all this talk. He has suggested that I should certainly consider allowing someone else to make choices for me, given the poor judgment I’ve exhibited in the past. (But good Lord, so has my mother! And, let us remember, Chi-guy’s marriage also ended in divorce.) Were I to delve into the topic of arranged marriage, it could take several posts. So, for now, let’s just say that I will happily accept the consequences of my own choices…I think.


what changes once it’s final?

Today…

As usual, I checked in with Facebook in the morning before I left for work. Status updates from Chi-guy tend to be few and far between, so I noted with interest his comment about the cold, rainy day being an appropriate backdrop for the kind of day he had planned. I wondered if this was it…

Divorce is something I’ll never really find a way to rejoice. Even if it’s absolutely the right thing and the best thing for all parties, there is no way for me to view it wholly as a win-win. It’s a moody or melancholy occasion at best. And so I made a mental note to call and check in this evening. (Again, “super friend” mode…)

As it happened, we texted back and forth a few times throughout the day, and he confided his newly (legally) single status to me late in the afternoon. Does this change anything? Not really. We still live in different cities, find each other attractive and flirt. But nothing’s really different, right?

He acknowledged that it’s been an emotional day. He was comforted by having his daughter with him for the evening and overnight. And he generally seemed in good spirits having had, as he pointed out, “some time to get used to the idea.”

So maybe it’s his candor and openness, or his sense of humor — we seem to laugh a great deal together — but those are things we’ve shared for months. It seems they’ve always been there. Perhaps it’s that he’s genuinely available now in a way that he wasn’t before.

Whatever the case, I’m telling you one thing for certain:  this man has never been so sexy!


spring status update

I think I thought I knew what I was looking for. I think I thought I was ready to meet someone special. But the more I put myself out there, the more I realize how cautious and self-protective I am, and it seems that all this dating business is a lot of work.

I mean, there have been some guys with whom it doesn’t seem like work at all — in fact, those are the ones I’ve mostly written about here. Chi-guy and more-like-it come to mind. I think I could talk to either for an eternity without getting bored or having to manufacture the next topic of conversation. And yet neither really put the moves on, either…and a guy’s got to express a little bit of romantic interest for this to work.

Other guys I’ve met have been much more eager to touch me, kiss me, do the more “dating-like” things with me, but they haven’t been as easy conversationalists. And, when one is considering the importance of long-term companionship, the ease with which conversation flows matters.

Still other men have proven to be incredible flakes. One instant messaged me to ask if we could meet that very evening, and then removed his profile completely only moments later. In fact, a few have removed profiles in the midst of a dialogue, which I find somewhat strange. (Though I may be about to do that very thing myself…)

The healthiest and most satisfying relationships I’ve had have begun as friendships. But I’ve seen a great deal of dating advice that cautions against hoping that a friendship will ever lead to more. Furthermore, it seems a little off to put oneself out there on a dating site and then suggest that one is interested in developing new friendships. That sounds a little too disingenuous — like friends with benefits. Which is not what I’m looking for. (Though I could go for a little sporting action while keeping a watchful eye for Mr. Right.)

When I step back and look at the bigger picture, it feels very funny to me to acknowledge that my most significant post-marriage relationships have been with Max and then Chi-guy. I actually talked about Max with Chi-guy, who asked me “So what exactly happened between you and Max?” “Nothing,” I answered, “we developed a beautiful flirtatious friendship that helped me find myself again.”

And there are those who ask what happened with Chi-guy. The same answer is true…nothing happened. We’ve developed a beautiful flirtatious friendship…

But a girl can always hope!