Aftermath

Hey guys. So it’s been several months since I’ve blogged here…..again. For now the only excuse I have is that I don’t have internet at all, unless it’s at work or the library. And the library closes, on average, at 4:30. I can sit in the parking lot to use the wifi, but sitting in the car after sitting all day at work isn’t exactly my idea of fun or productive.Instead of whining about lack of time/laziness/whatever, I'm just going to post some blatherings that I wrote back in December before and after I had been asked out by a perfect stranger. Enjoy it in all its unedited glory.

            12/8/14

Endless waiting is nervewracking. (The clock reads 11:20. I can’t leave til 11:45.)

            I’ve had a headache since Friday. Stupid nerves. It doesn’t help that there’s a low-pressure system hanging over the entire region. There is a blank sheet of clouds pressing down—I can feel it in my sinuses, under my eyes and wrapped around to the back of my neck.

            For the past few days I’ve found it difficult to eat, difficult to sleep, difficult to think. Saturday I was distracted with making jelly. Sunday all I wanted to do was cry and sleep. Part of the problem is having not gone outside for days, and part is the weight of stress, of facing something that is FAR outside of my comfort zone.

            In other news, I finished Lord of the Rings yesterday and picked up The Silmarillion for the third or fourth time in 18 months. Each time I read a little farther, until I get overwhelmed with the names and events and have to put it down for a few months. Maybe I will finish it in this attempt. Currently I’m embroiled in the tragedy of Turin Turambar, and read the part where he accidentally kills Beleg and is struck with grief and madness. I was reading over my breakfast, and hated to stop for work (which has been a rarity with The Silmarillion—most of it is so dense that it’s a chore, albeit a pleasant one, to read). And I hated to see Beleg die, after most of that chapter was about him and his labors to bring Turin out of self-imposed exile.

            Insert a great noise of sadness and exasperation.

            12 minutes to go. Words cannot express how terrified I am right now.

            I have it on good account from the pastor at church that this guy is at least decent. The terrible part is that I don’t even remember what he looks like (beyond tall and skinny). Presumably he’ll remember me (for which I’m not sure if I want to be remembered).

            Something that has really struck me lately is how many people (mostly from church) have come up to comment about me or my looks. It’s kind of disconcerting—at the ranch it’s kind of expected, or at least not unusual. But in real life I don’t know what to make of it.

*UPDATE*

            I’m back. And all the terror was ill-spent.

            That is to say: it was nice. And I’m glad that I went, for no other reason than it was good to do something that I wasn’t comfortable with. But he was nice enough, and thankfully called it ‘lunch’ rather than ‘a date’.

            I was waiting for the guy (let’s call him J) to show up, and there was an old man painting a fence nearby. So, to kill time, I introduced myself and picked up a paintbrush. I don’t think he knew what to do, because he stood there for a moment before saying, “Now what’s your name again?”

            Suffice to say, it was amusing. J showed up while I was painting the fence, and seemed a little surprised to see me occupied thus (though I couldn’t really blame him).

            My biggest relief was that as soon as I got there, all my nerves seemed to go away (beyond not being able to eat much—traitorous stomach!). The anticipation was truly worse than reality.

            Two awkward moments arose, but thankfully they were easily brushed off. The little waitress, who knew J, had brought drinks and was going to get menus. When she came back, she said, “Are you two on a date?”

            I said nothing, but laughed a little. J said, “Let’s call it lunch.” (Words cannot describe how relieved I felt at that little statement.)

            She persisted, and said “I hear y’all getting to know each other and it’s just so cute,” before fleeing in a tizzy. I passed a hand over my eyes; when I opened them J looked at me and said, “Small town.”

            Small town indeed. I would have run into the same problem back at home.

            The other awkward moment was when a kid in high school came up to me and said, “You’re the Earring Girl, aren’t you?” before making some small talk.

            (Story-time: I had made some origami crane earrings on a whim a couple of weeks ago. I had made a quick run to Walmart the day after making them, and in that time this kid saw my earrings, told his mom, and she bought them from me for $20. Made. My. Day.)

            I guess the overall feeling from the entire outing was one of “all right, I can do this.” Given time and association, I probably could become attracted (and would, given my tendency to latch onto people who give me attention O.e). At this point in time, I’m not looking for a relationship and I have several orange to red flags that are concerning.

1.      He’s a nice guy, yes. BUT he’s also newly divorced (officially for about a month (!), separated since August) (the biggest red flag at the moment).
2.  The only thing that we seemed to have a mutual interest in was hiking. (He’s more what I would label the typical product of public school and college—not in a bad way, but interest-wise)
3. My gut feeling is one of hesitation, and I’m just…not…sure.    

            There were a few hints of “maybe I could show you around” and “it’d be fun to go hike sometime and talk to you again”. I agreed to nothing as of yet. He mentioned something about how hard it is to find someone to do things with around here, and I agree completely. But my experience with men has been that they have a difficult time remaining ‘friends’. That’s not necessarily a bad thing: men and women are magnets, and if they get close enough they’re going to stick together. That’s the way we’re designed. But I know that if I don’t lay down a boundary, the chances increase that he’ll eventually want exclusivity.

            I am a little torn, because yes, it would be awesome to have someone to hike with. Yes, it’d be nice to have a local to show me around. But I have a feeling that it’ll have to be a girl, or no one, because leading this guy on (intentionally or no) can only end in messiness.

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As a follow-up to that little excursion: I never heard from the guy again. *insert great feeling of relief* The indecision was VERY short-lived and after a day or so I was going "please don't call me please don't call me please don't call me". (And it's times like these that I look back on my blatherings and cringe a tiny bit.) Thankfully there have been no other prospects or interest shown from or towards anyone. The result has been a series of wild oscillations from "yay, it's great to be single!" to "FOREVER ALONE".

I also finished The Silmarillion shortly afterwards. For the first time EVER. *cheers* And in January I started my giant project of hand-piecing a quilt. If I can get pictures, some will be posted eventually.

For now, consider this a tiny little update into a facet of life in Arkansas.