Deck the Halls. . . and This Guy I Know, too!

I figure it's about time for an update, albeit brief, on the goings on in my tea party. In addition to the two (almost three) near set-ups mentioned in the last entry which have yet to materialize, I have one more to add to the cobweb stricken shelf of "Almost." Another neighbor I hardly know and who knows me as well asked to set me up with This Guy I Know. Crazy, right? I would almost be shocked, except somehow I'm not; here's why.

While the total reported sightings of This Guy I Know has sky rocketed over the last three months, reaching a total of nearly four (4), the total number of dates arising from these sightings has not budged since the last quarterly census taken on the matter, which is a pragmatic zero (0).

The reasons given for such numbers seems to be that, while the number of good-hearted people whose hearts turn toward potential suitorettes for This Guy I Know (namely, Me) increases around the Holidays, the number of evenings and weekends that get overbooked on This Guy I Know's calendar multiplies faster than two rabbits in an empty barn. This equation typically results in few to no opportunities for a random suitorette (namely, Me) to get penciled in on one of her available evenings or weekends during the same busy time.

Needless to say, any chance for making jolly jokes and pleasant conversation with This Guy I Know over a nice cup of hot cocoa by the flickering lights of the Christmas tree is as likely as getting a Salvation Army Santa to pay you every time he rings that bell outside the neighborhood department store. It's just not going to happen.

No matter. The world is filled with various faces of This Guy I Know, for none of whom do I live my life. Therefore, I will continue to live a full and happy life which may or may not include a date with any of these particular versions of This Guy I Know; and you know what? I am no worse off because of it. In fact, I will continue my life, making myself each day better because the existence or lack of a certain event in my life is NOT my life, but a mere part thereof. My life is so much more. So is yours.



So, in closing, there's no need to plan how you'd like to deck This Guy I Know as you bedeck your halls for the Holidays because the energy is better spent elsewhere. . . and besides -- It takes a lot more creativity to write these blogs about a non-existent dating life than it would if something substantive happened. Then what would I do with myself?!

Set Me Up, Scotty!

You can always tell you've become a part of the neighborhood when people you are getting to know better ask if they can set you up with "This Guy I Know." While his face and name changes quite often and we sometimes go months without getting together, This Guy I Know and I are very well acquainted. In fact, you could say we're almost going steady. . . in an 'on-again, off-again' sort of way.

Recently, one of my new neighbor friends asked me if I would be willing to be "set-up" with This Guy I Know. Actually, he used to be her husband's room mate. . . six years ago. She then asked me to tell her about myself. You see, she knows next to nothing about me, considering that all people are icebergs and we've known of each other's existence for less than three months. Her main reason she gave me for thinking This Guy I Know would like to go out with me is as follows (more or less): "He's dated tons of girls, probably thousands, but you're interesting. And I think he would really like interesting." On that premise, if we really end up going out, this date could be very. . . entertaining!

As luck would have it, when it rains - it pours, and one of my best friends' dad called me and asked if I would mind going on a blind date with a man he knows who is an unemployed teacher currently working on movies at the dinosaur museum. *Rock On* My friend's dad said, from what he's gathered, "you're everything he's looking for in a woman. He also told me to tell you that he's a Star Trek fan and loves cats." I enjoy Star Trek non-fanatically (The Next Generation, preferably) and I'm more of a dog-person, but at least we should have something to talk about. We've become "friends" on FB and I'm told that he'll call me to set up the date. We'll see.

I've learned not to hold my breath for a set-up to happen. This Guy I Know is kind of a lone ranger that seems to come and go as he pleases and I've learned that it's easiest to just roll with it. It's not personal, it's business (Movie: You've Got Mail). Dating is not a one-size-fits-all kind of thing, so for that reason, I'll continue to go out with This Guy I Know until I find the right combination of characteristics in an attractive-to-me suit who (and this is the kicker) also finds my combination of characteristics an attractive-to-him dress and we decide to wear each other (out) for the rest of time and all eternity. . . . and (in the famous words of Captain Jean-Luc Picard) 'Engage!'

In a Pickle

There's always a little bit of a risk when going on a blind date. I believe in being one's self in any given situation. I've learned, however, that it might be wise to be one's best self to start with and then as you get to know each other better, you can start to show more and more. Some things about a person can be a little much when a relationship is very young.

It's great, though, when some of those things come out and it creates some common ground. Not necessarily that you both find you like the exact same things, but maybe that you look at the world in a similar way.

Take a recent blind date experience of mine, for example. I decided several years ago that it makes for a more interesting date if I bring out the more talkative, bubbly side of me on a blind date as opposed to the more shy, stand-offish side - go figure. What happens when that side of me comes out can be fun, but I can also spew out some things that might fall into the "save it for later" category. This happens especially when comversation between us comes easily. It can turn into somewhat of a stream of consciousness conversation.

So, we were having a picnic he put together at a popular local historical site. He prepared a nice sandwich, salad and apple lunch (with zesty italian dressing!). One sandwich had tomatoes and the other did not, so he asked if I liked tomatoes - which I absolutely do. He gave me that one and said that if I didn' he would have taken that one and picked them off. I had discovered on the way to the picnic site that he loves onions, so I thought I would check my sandwich for onions - which I found. As I took them out, he plucked them out of my hand as I struggled to figure out where to put them that wasn't going to be in the way of my salad. Sign of a good date #1: You become fast friends enough to unabashedly pick through the other's food. How convenient.

I told him, "except for the onions, are a pretty good sandwich maker!" He thanked me and shortly thereafter replied, "except for the onions, you are a pretty good sandwich eater!" I couldn't fault him there. That comment gave rise to a discussion about how each eats their sandwiches, which is one of those conversations that may be best kept for later. Not because it's personal or anything, but it's really uncomfortable to tell a person the manner in which you hold and eat your sandwiches and get an odd silence and the, "you have a certain way you eat sandwiches?!?" look. Awkward!

Notwithstanding the potential with the direction this conversation went, this did not become awkward for us. I learned that we agree on getting the peanut butter and jam to the edge of the sandwich and that while I must have pickle in every bite (if I have pickle on my sandwich at all - but not on the PBJ, silly!), he says I'd never find a dill pickle in his refridgerator, but he likes sweet pickles. That was a serious blow! I'm a Christian woman, though, so I told him I wouldn't hold it against him and that everyone is entitled to their own opinion. He retorted that it wasn't opinion, he was just right. I bit my tongue. ;)

So, if I were to tell you how to measure a good date, I would have to say - from experience - that if you find you disagree about several things (e.g. Eating a sandwich 'corner-corner-middle from the bottom up' vs. 'Start at the top and eat in a spiral until you come to the middle' or 'Dill pickles in every bite' vs. 'Only sweet pickles in my fridge' or Tomatoes vs. Onions or Loves the rain vs. Doesn't like to get wet or Can't bring yourself to text message vs. Really likes to text) but you both actually pay attention to similar kinds of details in your respective lives, it's not the end of the world. And it was a very entertaining date, which is important.

All that said, it would be nice if he loved dill pickles as much as you do. . . . I'm just saying!

Subtleties of Pre-Date Performances

Sometimes you just have to sit back and ask yourself, "Why in the world do we act this way?!"  Most people will tell you that there is a certain finger on a person's left hand that is reserved for a certain piece of jewelry that signifies that this person is not available to negotiate a relationship beyond friendship, unless you are the one to which that person is committed.  Yes, that's a lot of words to describe "the wedding ring finger."

Recently, I've had a difficult situation that required me to totally end a friendship with this guy.  I decided that I just didn't want to deal with men for a while.  I started wearing a ring I usually don't wear because it fits best on my left ring finger and while I don't usually want to give the impression that I'm not available, I didn't care if that's what people thought at this point.

What a rebellious action this is.  I put a ring on my finger!  Now, people will think I'm 'off the market' when I'm really not dating anyone.  It's true in the sense that I want to send the message that I don't care for dating men right now.  To them, I am off the market.  Ooo, that's devious.  Just call me a rebel; the black sheep among snow white wool; bad to the bone, bad.

So, I've sworn off men for the time being and have this ring on that certain finger to prove I'm not looking for a relationship.  Then I find myself seeing a really attractive, nice-seeming guy and wondering if he would be interested if he knew I was available.  I hope that some miracle might happen and he'll ask me out.  But, OH NO!  Not with a ring on that finger, so I hurry and switch it to the other hand.  Just in case.  The waiter at the restaurant, the guy that keeps glancing at you during intermission, the guy inching his way home during rush hour in the lane next to you;  any one of them could be a man with guts enough to seize the opportunity.  That's why the switch seems so imperative at the time.

Nothing happens, though.  In fact, the waiter is just doing his job, the guy at intermission is looking at everyone sitting across from him, and the guy in the next lane over takes the next opportunity to weave in front of you and off the next exit.  Eh, it was all dreaming anyway.  So, I switch my ring back to that finger and decide I've made the right decision, until the next guy passes who might be the one who cares to know I'm available.

There's really no one endowed with enough telepathic powers that they can decipher all the 'signals' you're dishing out; that they can know that you're just playing the game; that they can make the first move and get a 'yes' because you're not as disinterested as you appear.  And yet, you keep playing that game.  You keep up the charade that hasn't really worked to get you results, but somehow keeps your brain satisfied that you're doing all you can.

Oh, Dating Game, how ridiculous you can be!

Open Mouth; Insert Foot

Ode to Embarrassment:

When with my friends, I'm rather witty;

I ought to be paid for my word-smithy.

But when it comes to the other gender,

Awkward blunders is all I tender.

So, the rhyme is a little loose in places, but I composed it on the spot and it's the utter truth (pun intended).  Why is it that the most embarrassing times happen when you feel the most is at stake?  It would appear that many people crack under the pressure.  At least I'm not the only one.  The following are real experiences; the names have been left out and the context may be slightly altered to protect the innocent, but it was far too funny not to share!

Case in Point:

A young lady studying nursing is chatting with a colleague of the opposite gender, at least twice her age.  They're making polite and totally innocent banter. He jokes about her giving him an IV of Peppiness, as he's accustomed to having.  She says she doesn't do that, but if there's anything else she can do to let her know, then without thinking, she counters "Do you need a bed bath?"  The man, not sure how to respond to that, makes a b-line for the nearest door.  Through the tears of embarrassed laughter she and her coworkers are sharing, she confesses that she had just finished Clinicals the previous day and that's the first nursing task that came to mind.

Another Self-Inflicted Embarrassment:

A young woman (though still an adult) is working on a project with some coworkers, both male and female.  This young woman frequently has songs and movies streaming through her thoughts and can frequently be found blurting out-of-context portions of them as they come to mind.  At this particular moment in time, the conversation turns her mind toward a Shirley Temple film (Captain January) in which the little girl calls her adopted dad - a lighthouse keeper - and his fisherman friend to share her birthday cake with her.  At that moment, the young woman's internal mute button gives way and she blurts out the following movie quote, "Come and get it, sailors!"

So, in conclusion, I wish to give thanks to all those people out there - and right here - who always seem to say the most embarrassing things at the most inopportune times.  Take it from one who has lived through several of these moments: I've never seen anyone die of embarrassment, no matter how hard they try, so laugh it off and keep moving on; maybe next time, the other person will be the one who twists their tongue while you enjoy the moment!!

How Low Can You Go?!

This entry isn't so much about the date part of dating, but the socializing portion leading up to the date.  Perhaps this is where all battles are won or lost - before it really begins.  It's important not to take yourself too seriously or you might encounter an experience that could break you.

I have a firm conviction of the importance of being able to laugh at one's self in the face of embarrassment.  Sometimes you must laugh through severe discomfort, but I assure you, it's by far the best thing to do to avoid the urge to crawl into a remote hole somewhere and never come out.  So, here's the skinny on the situation I fell into tonight.

We're planning a CPR activity later this week for the women only in my LDS Ward - our enrichment activity.  I was at my weekly Family Home Evening group gathering and someone announced it for the ladies present.  One of the guys in our group asked what time he should show up.  After some of the others said that boys weren't invited, which he knew very well, I thought I would give him an option.

Thinking only of the chest compression portion of the CPR exercise (I assure you!), I said, "We'll be doing CPR, so if you wanna come and be the dummy. . . ."  I didn't even get it until he emphatically agreed to come and be the dummy.  Everyone lost it and I did too.  I turned so red in the face, I thought I had skipped forward 30 years, right into menopause.  I just about died!  It took a little while before I gathered my composure.  Way to impress the men-folk, Self; way to go.

All I can say is that I laughed 'til I cried and my ability to laugh at myself made it much easier to get closer to the others in the group.  I'm positive that if I had not laughed in that embarrassing moment, I would have cried in emotional pain and I would never have been able to face any of them again.  I still cried, but they were over-happy tears!

Oh, the things I say in mixed company.  Phew!!  Now, let that be a lesson to you.

The Key to Dancing - and Dating - When the Guy Goes This Way, Ladies, Always Give a Little Resistance Before You Follow

Welcome to the maiden voyage of this new blog ship I call Tea for Two to Tango. A bit of a tongue twister, but I thought it appropriate as dating is not always my cup of tea, nor do I often tango. But, this too shall pass, and there are plenty of men and women out there that drink deeply from the tea cup of courtship and give the dating scene a frequent whirl. I plan on doing plenty of reconnaissance with these and other people to discover what, I hope, will be the key to successful dating; that golden snitch in the game of life; the get out of jail free card within the dating monopoly. . . . Or, in the alternative, at least offer a few fun anecdotes and thoughts on how fun and funny this phase of life can really be.

To kick it off, there was an activity in my religious geographical boundary (yes, my LDS Ward). It was a Chili cook-off/contest followed by a "rootin' tootin'" good time on the dance floor. Yeah, laugh about that all you want, but that's actually how they advertised it on the fliers going around. I am aware that dating can be awkward, but must we showcase it?! Come, now, let's don't be silly. Anyway, I don't recall any funky odors at any time the whole night, which is a blessing, I'm sure. Let's leave it at that, shall we?!

So, I danced with six guys (once each) at that dance last night. . . not that I counted or anything. We went through the motions for the first half hour or so - literally - as we were instructed as to Country Swing. Over the years I have been to enough of these functions to say that I "know" some of the steps. The problem comes in not using them on a regular basis. Yeah, that saying about "use it or lose it?" I think they're on to something there.

Luckily, with a refresher course at the outset, and a a few good men, I surprised even myself on the dance floor. Six times. . . . well, maybe three times surprised in a slam-bang way with moves I was being led through by a young man who had obviously done this kind of thing several times before, and two or three times surprised by guys showing forth a valiant effort by practicing what they obviously learned half an hour ago - counting aloud and all. I must admit that either way, I had a fun time! What can I say - I'm easy to please.

More often than not I found myself as "that girl" standing on the side of the room watching the couples having fun dancing and hoping I'd be able to dance in the next song (and the song after that, and so forth). The best was when a guy mysteriously appeared at my side as I was talking to one of the fantastic ladies there. I thought, "Ooo, this one is sneaky, but I'd love to dance with him." Just as he turns toward me and I begin turning toward him, he reaches across me to take the hand of the girl I was just talking with and pulls her out onto the dance floor. That happened to me, not once, but several times last night. Phew! Being single at a dance is just as awkward at age twenty-seven as it was at age seventeen. You, know what? I'm sorry, that's not true. I think it was easier when I was seventeen!

I have to interject here that I nearly danced as many "solo" dances as I did partner dances last night (and would have danced more if they had played more of those songs). There's nothing wrong with that, and it's a lot of fun. But here's a guarantee I give you, ladies. (Lean in close, now!) If you wanna be sure you get some time out on that dance floor, bust a move during the line dances. That's where the magic begins and y'all - if I may sling some jargon - switch directions every time in those line dances for a reason, don't you think?

"Do guys really scout out their next dance partner during the line dances," you ask? Well, as I am obviously a most successful and seasoned veteran at this sort of thing, I would have to say, "Maybe, but just as likely not, however, at least you're out there cuttin' a rug on that dance floor!" Remember, I may be observant, but I am still single.

Whether you dance with one man several times or fifty men once or three men two times each or - well, you get the idea - or you just shine during those line dances, there's no end to the fun you could have going dancing. . . until they turn the music off and shut the lights down and tell you the fun's over. But, it's really all in your court as to how your dance experience goes. Next time, maybe I'll ask the guys to dance with me.

What can they say to my, "How 'bout you and me go dancin' in the dark?"
"No, thanks." At least they were polite about it. And I'm no worse off. It's not personal, it's business.

Look out!!