Any Boys Lately?


My friend texted me this evening as we were checking in about life, travels, speeding tickets, bumps on the head, and the Giants getting closer to that wild card slot.

“I haven’t been reading your blog, so I’m not in the loop.”

Well.

Funny you should ask.

I am taking action.

In addition to the date I have for this Sunday I returned, just a few minutes ago, a phone call from the gentleman I met at Decompression on Sunday.

Of course, I am presuming that he, like the rest of San Francisco (can I just say that was the best bike commute home!  Everybody inside the bars and taverns along Irving watching  the game, not a soul in the street, I flew home on my bike) was watching the Giants game when I rang him up.

I hadn’t even realized that I had missed a call yesterday evening, being preoccupied with other matters and it wasn’t until I had finished my blog last night that I realized there was a voicemail from a number I didn’t recognize.

I had recently given out my phone number for other purposes and supposed that the number was from a woman I had just met with and exchanged numbers with.

Wrong.

It was from J.

From Decompression.

Well.

Hello.

I thought I would return his call earlier today, but the day got a way from me at work, lots to do, little down time, much running of errands and cooking (homemade from scratch baked macaroni with three cheeses and pan sautéed garlic mushrooms, thank you very much), and going to the doctor’s office for flu shots, and the playground, and the usual dinner, bath, helter skelter time at the end of the day.

I have to say, just an aside really I don’t want to write my whole blog about nannying, that I am always a bit stunned when it is time to go, I am that busy.

I usually walk out the door, down the steps, open up the garage door and grab my bicycle and wonder, did that really just happen?

Did I just work a full day?

It goes by super quick.

Anyway.

I didn’t get a chance to return the call all day and I will say I almost talked myself out of it.

“He kissed like a dead fish,” kept running around my head.

Let’s be nice, I say.

First, the kiss was a little unfortunate since I was reserved in the kissing department as it tasted of beer.

I wasn’t really into delving into that.

Second.

I need to take action and actually, since I made the vow publicly in my blogging forum that I was going to attempt one date a week, I pretty much felt like this would qualify.

“Go where there’s interest.”

My friend’s follow-up text.

J. is definitely interested.

So, return the call.

Done.

I’ll line up a date with him and fulfill the commitment to myself to try to change and take actions asserting said change.

I left him a message and then turned on the lap top.

And wouldn’t you know.

Another message.

This time from someone I met at Burning Man.

Apologizing for not getting a hold of me sooner, and would I be interested in getting together now that he has some free time in his schedule.

Ah.

Yes.

You happened upon me at a good time.

And holy shit.

It looks like I am dating.

Not dating exclusively, not dating with any expectations around it, just dating.

It reminds me a lot of all the foot work that I did to get the job that I am currently in.

I started looking for a more viable option to my situation in January, I interviewed with families in Cow Hollow, the Marina, the Haight, and entertained queries from families in the Mission and Noe Valley.  As well as being head hunted by an agency out of Marin.

I did lots of work on my resume and collected letters of reference and investigated contracts and wrote out what I wanted and how I wanted to be treated.

In essence, I did an ideal, a work ideal, and then I took action.

I said yes to jobs that turned out to not work for me.

I got hired, not once, but twice, for families that after some consideration, decided they couldn’t afford me.

I kept the faith and kept trying and when I wasn’t looking, the right fit came at the right time, but it wouldn’t have if I hadn’t done the work.

Same with dating.

I figure anyhow.

And J. just called back.

You didn’t know since the blog appears seamlessly written, patting self on back, but just had a seven minute phone call wherein I had to turn down the offer to go out-of-town for the weekend.

Too fast friend.

And I am already booked in for this weekend.

And he’s booked in next weekend with family stuff.

But I said, call me when you’re free and we’ll go from there.

I am just putting it out there and trying.

Just having returned a call, and having a slightly awkward conversation on the phone is already feeling good, action generally does.

It’s when I sit and think that it fucks me up.

Here’s to not thinking.

Just more action.

I amused myself as well earlier.

I figure I am going to have fodder for the blog for a good while with the one date a week thing–whether it is in the finding, the making myself available, handing out my phone number, responding to profiles on-line that I normally wouldn’t, or just the misadventures thereof–it should make for some good reading.

I had a moment when I was riding my bike to work, pondering when I would return J.’s call and I laughed out loud.

It’s a bad romantic comedy, but the gist was, my dating goal sounds like a movie script: Boyfriend by Christmas.

I see Drew Barrymore starring.

I’ll just start with a date this weekend and trying to take another action tomorrow when it feels right and applicable to do so towards making myself available where the interest is.

You interested?

Now’s a great time to get in on this.

I’m not turning anyone away.

Come on in.

The dating waters are fine.

 

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