Bringing the cheerful calamity back

If I have any readers left after a nearly three-month hiatus, I apologize for being MIA. I’m not exactly sure why I haven’t been writing. I posted on facebook a while back that I was “too busy being a cheerful calamity to write about being a cheerful calamity,” which was true. But it’s also a lazy excuse because the things that have been happening in the last three months are exactly what I should have been blogging about.

I think I lost inspiration to write sometime last fall and simply got in the habit of not writing. But lucky for you, my loyal followers (if you even exist), I’m hoping to fix that. Let me catch you up to speed.

I wasn’t supposed to work one Monday back in late November — I had the day off. But because there was an event that my editor asked me to cover. And because this was kind of an important event, I made sure to look professional. I knew there would be at least one TV reporter there and, well, newspaper reporters are notoriously schleppy. So, donning my favorite black pencil skirt, heels and a patterned cardigan, I did my best to look at least on par with the other media.

There was nothing noteworthy about the event itself, but the two-minute conversation I had with a stranger afterward has vastly affected my life since. Thank goodness I dressed up that day.

Without going into detail about the specifics of the event (because for the purposes of this blog, they’re inconsequential), a guy I didn’t know approached me and said the following:

“Excuse me, but have we met before?”

What I said: “Um, no… I don’t think so.” What I thought: “Nice try, buddy.”

“No, I’m pretty sure we’ve met before. Do you know (insert name of my college roommate here)?”

Me: “Uh… what?? YES I know her! She was my roommate in college for three years! Wait, how do you know her? And how do you know that I know her?”

Turns out the guy — I’ll call him B — is from Richmond and went to high school with my college roommate/one of my closest gal pals. He’d noticed the UR sticker on my car and, knowing she also went to UR, figured he’d chance it and see if the connection was there. Lucky for him (and me), it was.

We exchanged cards and — perhaps against my better judgment — I emailed him 23 minutes later. Turns out my lesser judgment was the winner in this scenario, because we began an extensive gmail conversation — “just like ‘You’ve Got Mail’! a friend told me later — and by the third email, he’d asked me out.

Two weeks later I found myself in Richmond “to go Christmas shopping” but really, to go on that date with B. And today, about six weeks after that first date, he’s sitting here snowed in with me in Danville for the weekend.

When I had to leave Culpeper last year, I didn’t understand why. Why I’d lost my job, why I had to move — or most of all — why I had to move to Danville (no offense to a lovely city I now have grown quite fond of). But I’d made great friends, I’d won awards for my writing — and ultimately I felt like it was all in vain. I didn’t know why it all happened, but I also knew that I’d figure it out. There was a reason behind the shit, but I just had to be patient and open to the possibility that there was something better for me, beyond the life I had.

I’m not going to be overly dramatic and say that B is the answer to all of my problems, because 1) it’s not true and 2) that would be a simple-minded way to think. But I also know now that meeting him — and in such a serendipitous way — was one of many of the reasons I was supposed to come to Danville when I did.

Another reason I know I was meant to come to Danville (totally unrelated to the previous) is the fact that I have found this niche for myself in political journalism that I never knew existed. I’ve become passionate about Virginia politics and I love covering it more than any other beat I’ve had. I’m not sure I would have discovered that had I not moved here. I still don’t really have any idea what I want to ultimately do with my life, but now I at least feel like I’m moving in a general direction rather than simply wandering.

There’s a quote from the charming aforementioned “You’ve Got Mail,” in which Meg Ryan’s character says:

Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life — well, valuable, but small — and sometimes I wonder: do I do it because I like it, or because I haven’t been brave?

That completely describes my thoughts about my life in Culpeper. I was willing to stay there and settle because it was comfortable and easy. I think now, after everything, I much more like the idea of being brave.

Evaluating my interpersonal communication skills

I communicate for a living. It’s essential that I get along with people and establish some sort of rapport with those I interact with regularly. And I do; I’m pretty good at my job. The interpersonal aspect, anyway. Some readers would probably disagree on my ability to report the news to their liking, but that’s a separate issue.

But it’s usually effortless for me to meet people, probably because I’m willing to listen and open up to them. I remember I once wrote a column at my last job and after reading it, my editor responded, “You know, you don’t have to get that personal.” But I do; it’s who I am. (Hence the blog.) And so – often to my detriment – I can easily let others into my life.

The problem with letting others in, however, is that you become vulnerable to their actions. And every couple of years a friendship in my life crumbles nearly as quickly as it developed. I understand that people come and go from your life, but it’s difficult when the leaving is so abrupt, so harsh and what seems to be so intentionally hurtful.

And it makes me think: maybe I’m not as good at interpersonal communication as I thought; maybe I’ve got the wrong strategy. Or maybe I’m just a poor judge of character. Either way, it’s alarming to me. Just because I accrue friends easily doesn’t mean they are frivolous to me; the people I choose to let into my life are people I care about.

Situations like this always leave me completely baffled, angry and, at varying degrees, hurt. And basically just kinda sad at the loss of a friendship. It would be easy to put walls up and let myself become bitter about people. But being bitter is completely and utterly useless. I’d rather learn from my mistakes and keep my heart and mind open to the people who are worth the space in my life I give them — even if that means risking a few cuts and bruises.

Otherwise, I wouldn’t be “the cheerful calamity.” I’d just be a calamity.

I’m an adult now?

Really? I don’t know about that. But that was the chorus and title to a song by The Pursuit of Happiness (some ’80s band I never heard of) that was on the radio yesterday morning while I wrote this blog. Here are some of the lyrics:

I can sleep in till noon any time I want
Though there’s not many days that I do
Gotta get up and take on that world
When you’re an adult, it’s no cliche, it’s the truth

‘Cause I’m an adult now
I’m an adult now
I’ve got the problems of an adult
On my head and on my shoulders
I’m an adult now

The song was actaully kinda lame, but it got me thinking about my life, of course. When did I grow up? I think it happened sometime between graduating college and the last two months. Little by little, so I didn’t even notice it.

This weekend I was in Richmond, visiting friends. Bingy and her fiance just bought and moved into their first house — yes a real, grownup house that is so adorable I could cry — and I realized just how deep into the world of adults I am. On my fridge I have invitations to a baby shower, a wedding save-the-date and two wedding announcements. Houses! Weddings! Babies! Oh my. The fact that I am eons from ever reaching those milestones brings me both a wave of relief and a sting of panic.

Because even if I’m nowhere ready to settle down, I still want to eventually. And the fact that it will likely be years, if not longer, before I actually do… scares me.

As I sit here eating the lunch of a four year old (PB&J, blue raspberry flavored Kool-Aid Jammers, Doritos and a pear), I realize that despite my food choices, I’m pretty close to full-blown adulthood. I may not be ready to settle down, but I am a perfectly capable, independent woman (all the honeys who makin’ money, throw your hands up at me) who can take pretty damn good care of herself.

So, yeah, I guess I am an adult now. Damn it.

Part Two: The infatuation begins…

(This is a follow up to Why does dating have to be so scary?)

So maybe the date was a bust. On the other hand, maybe it went really well. It’s now been a month, and you two are having dinner twice a week and text each other every night. Maybe you’ve kissed, maybe not. But you haven’t had the talk. You know, the talk. The DTR. You don’t want to be the first to bring it up – who does? – but inside you are dying to figure out what exactly is going on. What do you call your “relationship” with this person? Are you dating? If not, are you even on the path to dating? Do you want to be? Are you even on the same page?

"And then, we hugged. I think he's the one!"

You spend hours on the phone with your girlfriends, analyzing his every sentence and every gesture. Maybe you want a relationship, but he thinks you’re just friends. Maybe vice versa. Or maybe you’re both just too awkward and nervous to confess that you – gasp! – like each other.

Here’s my advice for those of you who may find yourself in this situation: Do. Not. Force. It. If it’s going to happen, it’ll happen. If he likes you, he’ll show it.

I’ve had a good bit of experience in this particular stage of dating because unfortunately for me, I was an expert at misreading the signs. I was always thinking there was a blossoming relationship when actually, there was just a guy who enjoyed my company (and maybe even a kiss or two) but didn’t want to commit to anything that remotely resembled a relationship. I really know how to pick ‘em, hmm?

I highly recommend this book, or anything by Greg Behrendt.

Don’t try so hard to be what you think he wants that you lose sight of what you want. And don’t feel guilty for wanting something you’re not getting. You deserve to be happy, and if he isn’t making you happy, move on.

I realized how ridiculous I’d been when I met someone who actually pursued me, instead of trying my best to force a relationship on someone who didn’t want one. Although six months later, he turned out to be pretty much the same as all the others, unfortunately. But my point is, at the time, he was interested and he made it clear. I didn’t have to force anything, although I still found myself impatient and trying to push things along.

But really, what is the rush? In all of my romantic blunders in the past year and a half, that’s what comes to mind. So what if it’s been two months of “hanging out” but you still don’t really know what’s going on? I wonder if I had just been more patient with those situations, and enjoyed them for what they were at the time – new friendships – I could have saved myself some heartache, because I wouldn’t have forced the romance so much.

I'm pretty sure I read the CliffsNotes version.

However, therein lies the Catch-22. There is a fine line between being patient and putting up with less than you deserve. I genuinely liked those people and desired a deeper relationship. That’s what I wanted, and I made it pretty clear. And that’s when things fell apart. It hurt at the time, but I’m better off for hearing the harsh truth.

So if you find yourself in a similar situation, ask yourself this: what is it that you want out of your relationship with this person? If you want a relationship just for the sake of having one, perhaps you need to reevaluate the person you’ve been spending so much time with and why. You might be putting up with a lot just to move forward with someone who’s not right for you.

If you truly like this person, why do you think you are feeling impatient? If it’s simply to define the situation because you don’t like having so many unknowns, maybe just let things play out. Like I said, if it’s meant to happen, it’ll happen.

But if it’s because you simply cannot contain your desire to be with that person, to tell them how happy they make you, then maybe it’s time for the DTR – however scared you might be. Good luck :)

I know it’s daunting – anytime you face possible rejection it’s terrifying. I’m not saying you need to ask out every guy in your life, or confess your undying love for your barista at Starbucks, but if you want to get anywhere, you have to put yourself out there. You won’t ever gain anything without risking something.

I may currently be single – and I may have endured quite enough heartbreak for one year – but I have also learned more about myself and what I deserve because I finally decided I wasn’t going to just sit back and let everyone else experience life and love.

Why does dating have to be so scary?

Because who likes rejection? No one. That’s why.

Despite being single most of my adult life (I was a serial dater as a toddler, lemme tell ya), I often find myself in the position of giving dating advice to my friends. Well, more like relationship advice. Which I always thought was kind of funny, given that until recently, I had no real relationship experience. But I think they appreciated hearing an outsider’s point of view. I guess I was more objective because I wasn’t bringing my own baggage of boyfriends past into the mix.

Hopefully this isn't my life in a few years...

But now that I do have baggage – some that I wish would just get lost in between connecting flights – I’m finding that I can now offer some sage wisdom (hah right) to a different group of friends: the eternally single ones. This is a group of which I used to be a card-carrying member. Actually, it’s probably time to renew my membership.

Although for the time being, I’m OK with that. It’s a comfortable place for me; I know how to act and think like a single gal. Yes, there are times I crave companionship, but being single for me right now is simply more stable. Because if there’s anything I need, it’s some stability in my life. Don’t worry – I’m not swearing off men completely. Just taking a much-needed breather while I get my life back in order.

So until that happens, I will live vicariously through my girlfriends who are stuck in the twilight zone of the dating world.

From blind dates to the DTR (the imperative “Define The Relationship” talk, usually initiated by the female), the stages of dating can drive you nuts. The doubts, the affirmations, the butterflies, the tears – it can all be a little much to bear. But what I found myself telling a friend recently was this: it might make you crazy, but it’s way more fun to have an infatuation than to be sitting alone on your hand-me-down couch, a glass of wine and microwave popcorn for dinner, watching “Sex and the City.” We’ve all been there. It is a great movie, though…

I know all too well the thoughts that permeate the brain when you’ve got a possible love interest. What does he think about me? Could I see myself dating him? How does my name sound with his last name? What kind of wedding would we have? What would our kids’ names be?

This is one of the eternally single girl’s biggest pitfalls. It’s not that we actually want to marry this person already (believe it or not, most of us are not ready to get married yet, either), but we look so far into the future because that’s how we judge our potential boyfriends. If he’s not marriage material, why waste your time? Right? Wrong. Just because you might not marry him doesn’t mean you can’t date him and, if you’re smart, learn something new about relationships and apply it to the next guy.

This should read: "Avoid texting while dining."

Because by planning out your lives together before you’ve even finished the appetizer on the first date, you psych yourself out into thinking that maybe he is the one, despite the fact that he just picked his teeth and is now texting his friends. At dinner.

You ignore all the reasons why you should run – fast – and instead you build this fantasy just because he seems mildly interested in you. Even if he is really into you, even if he seems like the perfect guy, avoid the fantasy. If nothing else, you build him up so much in your mind that you begin to think he is perfect and waaay out of your league, when he most likely is not. In fact, it is quite possibly the opposite, but because you don’t hold yourself high enough in your own eyes, you act as if you don’t deserve this most perfect (but not really) dreamboat that you are oh-so-privileged to have dinner with.

The reality of the situation is this: just because this might be your first date with the guy you’ve been eyeing for weeks, or perhaps your first date ever, doesn’t make you any less in control of the situation. You have just as much say in how you feel about him as he does about you. One date is not the be-all, end-all of your love life. If you’re not feeling it, oh well. He might be a really great guy, but just not the guy for you, and that’s ok. (Just remember that when the situation is reversed. It’s a tough lesson to learn, but the world won’t collapse because one guy doesn’t want to date you.)

Don’t pin all your hopes on this one guy just because he asked you out or because there’s no one else to choose from. Settling for less than you deserve is dangerous. So is focusing so much on meeting his expectations and standards that you forget about your own.

Look at it this way: if it doesn’t work out, at the very least one or both of you will realize that you’re not a perfect match and you’ll never hear from each other again. But, you might also just make a new friend. Finding a boyfriend is like looking for a job – it’s all about networking. You aren’t going to find someone by sticking to the same group of friends, unless your names are Ross and Rachel. So maybe your date didn’t go so well, but who’s to say he won’t turn out to be the guy who introduces you to the one somewhere down the line?

For more, check out Part two.