Possibilities.
It was Deloris who woke us up. I moaned a little and turned over onto my side as I heard Adam banging around downstairs. The incessant meowing...this is why I renamed her Deloris. It is impossible to her that we could want to sleep instead of getting up with the sun to play with her. "Did we drink last night?" I joked as I sat up in bed and looked down at Adam wandering through the living room. Last night had started out as impossibly boring, and I texted Adam that we were going out later. "Let's go to Trails End tonight! They've got a good band.""Perhaps," he texted back. "Let me see how the night shapes up here.""No. We're going.""Glad you decided I should get a vote.""I did. And you voted wrong."
Of course, as it tends to happen, the moment I'm done with work, he walks in. "He" is a rugged outdoorsman that I met through Adam. We know and like the same people, and before I know it, I find myself standing next to him, holding a glass of wine and immersed in conversation with him and said people. He has an unnerving stare, which I told him. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "It's okay. You don't have to apologize for it. It just makes me a little nervous." He nods, and continues to stare. I don't know what to think about him, I decide, after I finally leave and head into Hayward to meet up with Adam. He's extremely attractive. I think he might like me. Adam says that his flakiness is part of his charm. I think it could get tiresome. And he makes me nervous, which makes me feel insecure, which can make me defensive, which can make me into the girl who will engage with you on certain levels but not on others. He's also leaving on a cross-country sojorn at the first sight of the winter freeze...which could either be miserable or perfect, depending on how you look at it. I can have the casual. I'm actually really good at the casual...enjoying someone's company and companionship without feeling the need to hang my hat on the possibility of a future together...but do I want that anymore. And it is worth it.
And this, if you haven't already caught on to it, is how my mind works: Developing every possible scenario and my response to it inside my head before I even decide if I actually like someone or not.
So I pick up Adam and we head out. The night at Trails End contained a drag queen, old men who still knew how to shake it on the dance floor, the difference between calling people skanks vs. dirties, lots and lots of middle-aged women who were having the time of their life, and the constant psychoanalysis of the girl that I refer to as (her name) Blue Balls, whom Adam previously liked and is now just annoyed with (for good reason. I thought I was a tease back in the day...this girl takes the game to a whooooole new level. Aka, when I asked a guy for a backrub, I meant it. I knew what was going to happen. That's why I asked for a backrub in the first place).
So we drank last night. Not a lot, but just enough to cause me to let out a series of dramatic sighs as I throw the covers back, climb down the loft ladder, and throw on a pair of dark jeans, a tank top and a black thermal, my Hunter Wellingtons, and my down puff vest. "Who's excited for Fall Festival?" I yell to Adam. "No one but you," is his smart-ass reply, right before he shuts the bathroom door to take a shower.
We leave and walk over to his place of work, where he makes me coffee and bids me goodbye as I set out to see what there is to see of Fall Festival. There's two this weekend - one in Cable and one in Hayward, with a bus traveling in between, because apparently we love Fall Festivals up here and the demand for effortless transportation between them is great. Main Street is decorated with hay bales and corn stalks, and my friend Sean is set up on the stage, playing his guitar and singing for the early crowds. Wandering along the rows of craft booths with my coffee in hand, I feel like I'm supposed to be in a kicky new hour-long sitcom about a small town, playing the irrepressible single girl who becomes romantically involved with an animal doctor who also owns a local fly fishing store or something. Passing a stack of haybales, I feel a small twinge of disappointment. This weekend could be cursed. I was originally going to have my friend Jess come up, but then had to cancel because of work, but then too late found out I wouldn't have to cancel for work, and then was going to be visited by someone I...like? Barely know but still think is awesome? Someone to whom, on the very first night we met, I apparently drunkenly (I don't remember this part...charmingly enough, it was one of the only two nights in my life in which I don't remember things happening) and without solicitation told them that they weren't my type (aka, not a tortured emotional soul who likes to manipulate girls before disappearing altogether out of an ill-placed need to appear "mysterious") and yet he still continued to be nice to me?...but plans were canceled due to a football scheduling conflict. I tried to play it off by being all "ha ha I hate football" lighthearted about it, but deep down I was pretty bummed. We had talked all summer about the possibility of him coming up, and finally it was happening, and then it wasn't. It was kind of like the climatic ending of a Laura Weissberger book that never actually happens: You keep reading, so psyched to get to the part where the main character finally tells the uber-bitch off, only to have it end with them being all, "Okay, well, I guess I'll see you later" and then walking off to some lame reconciliation with her dorky boyfriend and kind-of-bitchy best friend.
But it's fine. He's going to have a super fun weekend, which is great, and I am obviously meant to work this weekend for some reason. And I can catch up on my writing, too, I told myself, as I waved goodbye to Sean and headed back to my place. Like working on the book, and writing posts that are more about things that could mean something instead of things that are already figured out. It's nice, to still have that in my life.
Of course, as it tends to happen, the moment I'm done with work, he walks in. "He" is a rugged outdoorsman that I met through Adam. We know and like the same people, and before I know it, I find myself standing next to him, holding a glass of wine and immersed in conversation with him and said people. He has an unnerving stare, which I told him. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "It's okay. You don't have to apologize for it. It just makes me a little nervous." He nods, and continues to stare. I don't know what to think about him, I decide, after I finally leave and head into Hayward to meet up with Adam. He's extremely attractive. I think he might like me. Adam says that his flakiness is part of his charm. I think it could get tiresome. And he makes me nervous, which makes me feel insecure, which can make me defensive, which can make me into the girl who will engage with you on certain levels but not on others. He's also leaving on a cross-country sojorn at the first sight of the winter freeze...which could either be miserable or perfect, depending on how you look at it. I can have the casual. I'm actually really good at the casual...enjoying someone's company and companionship without feeling the need to hang my hat on the possibility of a future together...but do I want that anymore. And it is worth it.
And this, if you haven't already caught on to it, is how my mind works: Developing every possible scenario and my response to it inside my head before I even decide if I actually like someone or not.
So I pick up Adam and we head out. The night at Trails End contained a drag queen, old men who still knew how to shake it on the dance floor, the difference between calling people skanks vs. dirties, lots and lots of middle-aged women who were having the time of their life, and the constant psychoanalysis of the girl that I refer to as (her name) Blue Balls, whom Adam previously liked and is now just annoyed with (for good reason. I thought I was a tease back in the day...this girl takes the game to a whooooole new level. Aka, when I asked a guy for a backrub, I meant it. I knew what was going to happen. That's why I asked for a backrub in the first place).
So we drank last night. Not a lot, but just enough to cause me to let out a series of dramatic sighs as I throw the covers back, climb down the loft ladder, and throw on a pair of dark jeans, a tank top and a black thermal, my Hunter Wellingtons, and my down puff vest. "Who's excited for Fall Festival?" I yell to Adam. "No one but you," is his smart-ass reply, right before he shuts the bathroom door to take a shower.
We leave and walk over to his place of work, where he makes me coffee and bids me goodbye as I set out to see what there is to see of Fall Festival. There's two this weekend - one in Cable and one in Hayward, with a bus traveling in between, because apparently we love Fall Festivals up here and the demand for effortless transportation between them is great. Main Street is decorated with hay bales and corn stalks, and my friend Sean is set up on the stage, playing his guitar and singing for the early crowds. Wandering along the rows of craft booths with my coffee in hand, I feel like I'm supposed to be in a kicky new hour-long sitcom about a small town, playing the irrepressible single girl who becomes romantically involved with an animal doctor who also owns a local fly fishing store or something. Passing a stack of haybales, I feel a small twinge of disappointment. This weekend could be cursed. I was originally going to have my friend Jess come up, but then had to cancel because of work, but then too late found out I wouldn't have to cancel for work, and then was going to be visited by someone I...like? Barely know but still think is awesome? Someone to whom, on the very first night we met, I apparently drunkenly (I don't remember this part...charmingly enough, it was one of the only two nights in my life in which I don't remember things happening) and without solicitation told them that they weren't my type (aka, not a tortured emotional soul who likes to manipulate girls before disappearing altogether out of an ill-placed need to appear "mysterious") and yet he still continued to be nice to me?...but plans were canceled due to a football scheduling conflict. I tried to play it off by being all "ha ha I hate football" lighthearted about it, but deep down I was pretty bummed. We had talked all summer about the possibility of him coming up, and finally it was happening, and then it wasn't. It was kind of like the climatic ending of a Laura Weissberger book that never actually happens: You keep reading, so psyched to get to the part where the main character finally tells the uber-bitch off, only to have it end with them being all, "Okay, well, I guess I'll see you later" and then walking off to some lame reconciliation with her dorky boyfriend and kind-of-bitchy best friend.
But it's fine. He's going to have a super fun weekend, which is great, and I am obviously meant to work this weekend for some reason. And I can catch up on my writing, too, I told myself, as I waved goodbye to Sean and headed back to my place. Like working on the book, and writing posts that are more about things that could mean something instead of things that are already figured out. It's nice, to still have that in my life.
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