Ahh, Cliches

I hate them, but, alas, they exist because they are true.

I was struck (yet again) this evening how I am the yin to Bill's yang. We're so opposite, but we need each other. We make each other better. And different. I've experience more for being with him, and he has for knowing me. We are nearly the other half of each other's circle.

And, as if he were reading my mind, he commented on it first—even choosing the same verbiage. Tell me, how am I supposed to find someone different when he is practically someone right?

Dodged That One

Well, Mr. Bland and I are no longer dating. This is a good thing.

I can't help but wonder what I did to scare him off.

Really? Is this Necessary?

I hate pink products.

Let me get this straight, world: Just because I have a vagina, doesn't mean that pink is my favorite color.

Grrr!

Come Again?

Mr. Bland and I were chatting about nothing last night when I told him that my birthday is Friday. I asked if he wanted to do something earlier in the week to celebrate. I failed to mention my other plans Friday night, and I'm not sure how I'm going to. I'll probably say something along the lines of "my best friend has made plans and I'm not allowed to know what they are." That sounds the most unoffensive and threatening.

Either way, he wants to "come by tomorrow to hang out and talk." When I asked if this was a "we have to talk" talk he told me "I don't know, you'll see, I guess. I won't show my cards."

Um, okay. What on Earth does that mean?

My guess is that my suggestion that we do something for my birthday not on my birthday sent him into overdrive and wants to see where things are and how they're going. The answer? I think it's way too soon to be exclusive, and I don't want him to be a rebound. Does that sound as lame as I think?

Gym Goals

Bill and I were joking about my gym goals. These are what we determined they are:
Get all in shape
And hot
So Bill will be attracted to me
And sleep with me
And then marry me

Um, no.

Artistic Lines

Bill has, I assure you, some of the most artistically beautiful lines I've ever seen on a guy. Women tend to have them more, there's just something about the female form that makes art by being. But Bill has them. Sometimes I find myself just tracing his lines with my eyes, pausing over each twist, each muscle definition, to roll it around in my mind, savoring the emotion and feeling that make up his lines. He's caught me doing it a time or two. Sometimes I just volunteer that information.

Over the weekend he (finally) played some upright bass for me. I was sitting behind him watching him play, and was struck again by how beautiful the lines in his back and shoulders are. I told him that once we get back in Seattle he needs to get his hands on a bass, and we need to have a photo shoot. I need to capture those lines, I need to draw them. I've never before really understood the concept of a muse, but my need to draw him is so overwhelming that I think I finally do. The urge is primal. And nearly uncontrollable. Someday. Soon.

What The, Huh?

In a bizarre and truly odd development, Bill's sister (to whom I've spoken on the phone once, maybe twice) added me as a friend on facebook. Huh?

Couldn't have anything to do with me spending the night at his parent's house the last night we were in Indiana (it just made more sense, and we're logical people). I'm pretty sure that his parents got more convinced than they previously were that we're dating.

Absent

As I grabbed my locker key I made small talk with the front desk guy at the gym. "Did you miss me?" I asked. "No, of course not," I teased. "You didn't even notice that I wasn't here last week!"

"Oh, I noticed," he reassured me. "I notice when all my...attractive gym goers aren't here."

"Suck up!" I accused as I walked away, shaking my head. Here's a man who sees me only first thing in the morning. Hair always in a pony tail and make up never done. I really don't get it. Really.

Reasons to Drop Mr. Bland: A List

Sitting next to Bill on the air ride home last night I got to thinking about Mr. Bland, and how things are going there. I was thinking about wanting to call him after I got home and maybe hang out with him Sunday night. Then I got to thinking about why I wanted to hang out with him. Read on for an interesting thought map.

• Um, he's kinda boring, despite how interesting he should be.
  
• He's a dreadful kisser (though, in his defense, he is willing to learn).
  
• He's too nice. Which is a horrible reason, but I feel like I'd walk all over him.
  
• Superficially, he's cute, not hot. I like hot.
  
• He doesn't really 'do it' for me. Whatever 'it' is.
  
• I think I'm just using him to try to get over Bill—it isn't working.
  
• Right now, the only reason I want to see him this evening is to have someone to kiss on (see the next item for more on this).
  
• Probably the biggest reason of all: I just spent 5 days on a business trip with the boy I really want, and I'm contemplating calling dude just to get Bill out of my head.
  
• Lastly (this one was added after I called him), he'd rather watch some Will Ferrell movie than spend the evening with me. Heck, he'd rather watch Will Ferrell alone than with me. I'm not sure he's feeling it, either.

I wish I had a similar list for why I should hang on to him.

Rapport

Bill and I gave a presentation today. We decided to do a joint presentation, playing off of one another and moving back and forth between us. Since we're such good friends, we have a really great rapport, and the hand-offs went quite smoothly. In fact, we got a number of comments from people telling us that they really enjoyed the presentation.

At one point Bill was harassing me about something, I made a joke, and went to pout. He came over to me and offered me a hug, which I quickly ducked out of.

Ok, let's pause here: the teasing was fine. The pouting was fine. The hug? Might have been crossing the professional boundaries. What on Earth was he thinking?

Last night we were out and he was really touchy-feely then as well.

I feel like he's trying to reassert his rode in my life. For a guy who doesn't want to date me, he certainly wants to be prime in my life. I know from an evolutionary standpoint that men need to compete for a woman's attention, but why would you compete for the affection that you don't reciprocate? So confusing and frustrating. Grr!

Travel

I'm currently in Indiana on a recruiting trip. Bill and I are giving a tech talk on why our company is pretty much the greatest, ever. Should be good times.

The travel was pretty uneventful, but long. It has been a while since Bill and I spent this much time together, so it has also been really fun. He teased me quite a bit about Mr. Bland, but that's to be expected.

All in all, good times.

Chapstick

Bill and I were headed to a luau to help a couple of our friends raise money for the triathlon they're doing for leukemia. The cost was $20/person. Kind of steep, but it was a fund raiser. We needed cash, so we stopped in at my neighborhood drugstore to pick up some chapstick and be cash back.

We walked to the register where I started looking for chapstick. Bill found it first and reached to grab some for me. 'Red,' I requested. He pulled his hand from the box it was in, flourished a tube of red chapstick and said, 'I know,' with a smile. Ok, seriously? Who knows what flavor chapstick their friend prefers, especially since I nearly always peel off the wrapper. Home slice pays attention.

Rock-a-Billy

Mr. Bland took me to a rock-a-billy concert last night. I think he was the only person there not ironically.

At one point the lead singer said something about working with so-and-so 'who is the best f---ing song writer I've ever worked with' apparently. A few people in the crowed cheered and he said to me, 'I guess he must be well known—people cheered. Or,' he suggested an alternative, 'maybe it's because he sweared.'

I ha to try Really hard to not laugh. I can't believe I'm dating a guy who has such bad grammar. Oy!

More Wrong

We're sitting in Bill's house at his computer working on a presentation for a recruiting trip we're going on next week. Well, "working". We do a lot of screwing around when we're supposed to be working. We were teasing each other about something when he looked at me and said, "Whatever, you're in love with me anyway."

"What?!"

"You're in love with me, so whatever."

"I never said I was in love with you," I argued.

"You don't need to. Somethings are just evident."

"Whatever," I brilliantly retorted, rolling my eyes.

Wow, boy is pretty self-assured. I wish he were more wrong.

Supplanting

Hula party. A few friends. Bill. A couple of glasses of something alcoholic.

I'm not really sure how, since I had been avoiding the topic all night, but somehow the fact that I'm sort of seeing someone came up ever so briefly. Just long enough, in fact, for Bill to bemoan, "I'm being replaced!" Complete with pout.

You know very well, Bill, that you don't have to be replaced. You just have to want to not be replaced enough that you actually date me. Never gonna happen.

Just Watching You

A few weeks ago I was on the stationary bike at the gym when a woman walked by and smiled at me. Since I was about 29 minutes into my 30 minute ride the sweat was pouring off my face, my breathing was, you could say, labored, and since my glasses kept slipping down my nose, they were no longer on my face. I smiled back, sharing the "wow, you're working hard" moment. By the time I had hit the showers and was making my way back into the dressing area of the locker room she had finished her workout. "You really out did yourself on the bike today!" she told me. "Thanks," I said with a smile. And that was that. Or, so I thought.

A week later I was, once again, on the stationary bike, pressing through a killer hill. She walked by and smiled at me again. My own little fan club seems to be developing.

Friday is one of my cross training days, so no bike. I was doing a couple of quite unpleasant exercises (which promise results such as killer abs and buns of steel). She came over and was working out on the mat next to me. "I think you're the hardest working person at the gym," she declared.

"Oh?" I half laughed. I'm certain that there are quite a number of harder working people, but it was nice of her to say.

"Yeah," she said, "I get tired just watching you!"

Well, to be frank, you don't get any benefits of going to the gym if you don't work out. The people who do the minimum amount of effort just to say they went to the gym aren't exactly reaping many benefits. If I'm going to spend the time—and money!—I'm going to get the most for my efforts. Thankyouverymuch.

More on Mr. Bland

I don't think that anyone should ever nickname the person they're seeing "Mr. Bland." And, yet, I have. On paper, Mr. Bland is perfect for me. He's smart, he's outdoorsy, he's conservative (ok, not sure how that makes him perfect for me...), he's smart.

In real life, he's kind of bland.

I am torn about dating him. On one hand, I know very well that subconsciously I'm measuring him against Bill (a totally unfair yardstick), and on the other, I know equally well that I'm not so subconsciously using him, in part, to get over Bill. Either way, it's not fair to him.

Oh, and on kissing him (I know, I know, a lady is never supposed to kiss and tell. Too bad I'm not a lady.): he kisses like an over eager tween—awkward and not very well. If I were more into him I think teaching him how to kiss could be a lot of fun.

Poke!

Wednesday morning I was at the gym getting my free wights on. I walked into the free weight room and headed to the corner where the lightest weights are stored. As I walked over there I felt someone come up behind me. And then he was uncomfortably close behind me. And, just as I was about to turn around and give him a well deserved piece of my mind, he poked me in the shoulder. The exclamation of incredulousness was stymied when my brain told me who it was. "Hey Bill!" I said, turning. We seldom run into each other accidentally at the gym, and it was kind of fun to see him there.

Just Like, But Different

Bill and I were walking to my car this evening talking about the girls he's interested in, etc and what he's looking for in a girl. "Your problem," I told him confidently, "is that you're looking for me. Just in the body of a hot Asian girl."

He looked a bit awkward and then said, "You can't control attraction."

I went on to tease him that I'm everything he wants in a woman, except I'm not hot. I told him that the problem is, women like me are hard to find. Then he smirked and asked, "How about men like me, are we hard to find?"

"Nope," I reassured him, "guys like you are a dime a dozen!"

We had a good laugh, and he sent me on my way.

This does help a bit to explain his excitement and unsubtle encouragement of my hitting the gym.

So, yeah... it's nice to know I haven't been wrong about his feelings towards me this whole time. It's also nice to know he's as confused as I am. Nice, but not a relief.

White Shoes Evidence

There is a very attractive guy in my ward. Very attractive. He is a very good dresser, so much so, that I occasionally wonder if he's gay. Well, this morning I'm pretty sure I got my answer—white shoes, before Memorial Day? Totally straight.

Really, Google?

Is it just me, or is Google's new icon pretty hideous?

Behold:


What on Earth were they thinking? Gross.

Charity

What good is wealth without charity?

Tonight's musings are best summarized by C. S. Lewis in Mere Christianity:

"I am afraid the only safe rule is to give more than we can spare... if our charities do not at all pinch or hamper us,... they are too small. There ought to be things we should like to do and cannot do because our charitable expenditures excludes them."

Date with Dude

In the continuing saga that isn't my dating life, I have joined a number of dating web sites.

Last week I went out with a boy from one of the sites. He seems nice enough, but a little bland. Bill and I were talking about the date, and possible future dates. I expressed a bit of concern because, honestly, he's way more into me that I am into him. Bill was encouraging me to just go for it anyway and enjoy the ride. His words of encouragement took the sweetest form. He said some really nice things, including the final touch: "You are an awesome girl, Granola," he said. Then after a pause that was way too long, he reaffirmed what we all know, "and" he continued, "you really need to go get yourself some ass." Um, thanks.

Weather permitting, I'm going out with dude again tonight. I'm trying to be open, but he's sooooo bland. Maybe he'll interesting up tonight.

Putting Words in Your Mouth

Saturday brought with it the day of Bill's Christmas treat. We had talked about it throughout the week as his excitement built. When I gave him his present he invited me to come along, and I promised him post massage dinner.

I had determined that Saturday would be a day of self-care. I got up early and went to the gym. Following a long, and kind of grueling, workout I hit the steam room for a bit. Then off to the grocery store to pick up food for pizza. Then I picked up Bill and off to the spa with us. We had marvelous pedicures and massages. Post-massage we were each sent to shower. Holy Cow! I want one of those showers in my house! It had dual shower heads, and side jets on both sides. Oh, yeah!!!

Back at Bill's house we commenced pizza-izing. The pizza turned out ok—there will be many iterations and improvements. I did, however, impress him with my amazing dough tossing skills! As we baked The Dark Knight played in the background. Eventually, pizza was done and we sat down and tucked in. At that moment what's-her-butt fell and Batman saved her. They lied there, holding each other, desperately, when she breathed, "Thank you!" Mocking her I said, "Oh! Thank you! I love you, even though I'm too stupid to admit it!"

Bill snapped his head in my direction, "what?!" his voice cracked.

"I was making fun of her." I explained, quickly surmising what he thought had just happened.

"Yes, thank you for today," he said.

There was a bit of back and forth as I tried to explain that I as not puttiing words in his mouth, and he thanked me for a delicious dinner.

Well, we all know that I believe he has deeper feelings for me than he'll admit, either to me or to himself. So now I'm wondering if I should have pushed that. Probably, possibly, either way, I didn't.

First Post

The new year has dawned, the parties are dying down, the bars are closing, and people are stumbling home.

There is something about New Year's Eve which brings so much hope and happiness and forward looking. Why, I wonder, don't we see each day as a fresh start on something Great?

Honestly, I don't know. But I'm equally guilty.