Things You Don’t Want To Hear


On a first date.

And I’m not talking about impressions, because I was unimpressed when my date showed up looking ten years older than his profile.

Motherfucker.

You are so NOT 46.

56.

Sure.

46?

Come on.

And no fair using old photos.

I call foul.

I also deleted the damn app again.

I’m not really interested in meeting people that way.

I have better luck in the grocery store.

It didn’t help that it was the second attempt at the first failed date of the day.

I should have known better than to even give the guy a second chance.

Being late is one thing.

Texting me to tell me that he is going to be another fifteen minutes late because he is cleaning the cat box is something else entirely.

DUDE.

I should have called it quits at that point.

And in fact, when he did call, after delaying the date three times, when it was meet at two became meet at three became it’s 3:45p.m. and now he’s got a flat tire.

I was done with it.

And pissed.

I’d wasted a couple of hours in my day.

But truly.

I did not waste them.

I read.

I got a lot of reading done in one of my classes and so was productive and I also gave myself a little down time at the cafe, I did go down to Java Beach this afternoon and treat myself to an iced coffee and an hour of leisure time reading in the sunshine while it was still warm out.

It got super chilly this evening.

I bundled up to go back out to try and meet up with this guy again.

I decided when he texted me a photo of the flat tire on his motorcycle to give him the benefit of the doubt and since I had successfully powered through so much of my reading, I thought, what the heck, it’s Saturday night, I can go down to the cafe for a little while, have a cup of tea and try again.

Then the things got funny.

Mutual friends walk in and I am sitting there dishing to my girl friend about how this is not the date I thought and how there was someone else I was much more interested in and I shared a tid bit or two with her and we talked yoga and maybe she would come out to the studio and check out a class with me, and then, she and her beau went off and left me with the date that said all the wrong things.

Note to single male readers out there.

Just in case you didn’t know.

Things you don’t want to tell a date.

Things that are not sexy.

“I haven’t had a job in three years.”

“I am $100,000 in debt to credit cards.”

“If I don’t find work soon I’m going to be homeless.”

“I have ADHD.”

“I have sleep apnea.”

Dude.

STAWP.

Please.

My heart broke a little for the sad sack’ness of it all.

I don’t think he had a clue.

I stuck it out for an hour and a half and he wasn’t a bad person, just not my person, and just gah, no chemistry.

When you’ve had chemistry with someone and then this, well, it just made it such a stark contrast.  I know what I want and it was not mister dirty house full of dirty dishes, dirty laundry, credit card debt, dirty cat box, no job, snores a lot man.

I know what I want and that is good information to have.

I also know that I was just doing it for practice.

It’s good to put myself out there and as my girlfriend said, sometimes dates like these are to help us see what we want, because when it happens, you know it.

I know what it looks like and I know what it feels like when I connect with someone.

There was no connection tonight.

But it just didn’t help with all the other stuff on top of it.

Still.

I tried.

Speaking of trying.

I was back at the yoga studio today.

Day two, second class, go!

It was harder than yesterday, much harder, but the teacher was amazing.

I’m not sure I would have committed to the studio if I had gone through the physical work out that I went through today, it was far more challenging.

So it was good that I went yesterday and committed.

It could also be that my body was sore from yesterday too, but there were a lot of very challenging poses.

What was different though, was also the emphasis on breath work, setting an intention, the getting into my body felt more like a meditation, a deepening experiencing and spiritual grounding.

I was not expecting that.

In fact.

The teacher spoke about the culture of yoga in the U.S. and how it has become a kind of vanity about the body, how it looks, what it can do, and less of an emphasis on the spiritual, on the meditation, on the power of being grounded in the body and connected to the Earth.

She was speaking my language.

That was one of my big fears.

The mechanism of beauty and idealization of the culture for the body it provides.

I can’t be all about the body, I have to be grounded in the spiritual as well.

That’s just how I am.

I need the interconnection.

She had us meditate and do all sorts of breath work before moving into the poses.

I also got a lot more narrative about the poses, where to place my hands, how to align my body, and when it got to be too much, I just dropped into child’s pose or breathed through it.

I was always in the moment and that was special.

It was hard.

It was challenging.

But.

I left elated.

And I went and bought my own personal yoga mat and returned my housemates to her.

Tomorrow, new yoga work out clothes, I am committing to three times a week and suffice to say the one outfit I have is going to need some supplementation.

I don’t want to waste water running a load of laundry every day so that I can have fresh yoga clothes.

I just signed up for another class for tomorrow–same teacher, she’s only with them on the weekends–I’ll be getting my yoga on with her as much as possible.

Plus.

When I called attention to the fact that my monthly unlimited was charged to my card as well as the first time student class rate, she said, “let me take care of that,” and handed me ten dollars cash.

It feels right being at the studio.

And.

Well.

Ha.

It is awful handy, being that it’s just a half block away from home.

Tomorrow is my last day of freedom before returning to the work and normal school routine, I’ve got more reading planned, some grocery shopping, some doing the deal, some cooking for work, and now, yoga.

It’s not bad.

This sweet little life I have.

In fact.

It’s pretty fucking amazing.

I am.

The luckiest girl in the world.

No goof ball bad date is going to change that.

Not now.

Not.

Ever.

 

 

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