Is This Irony?

A Bowl of Fruit

View From My Window

Illinois issued the shelter in place order on March 20, 2020 and on the 24th there were lay-offs and reduced hours by my employer.  I was saved both of those fates thank goodness.  But.. But... yes, I remain concerned with each passing day that the situation may become more critical necessitating further action by said employer. 

Still, at present,  I am gainfully employed, still working from home, and for the newest normal to the mix, engaging in bi-weekly video staff meetings. 

Remember my casual comment about a year ago of maybe being ready to date again? Well, in my head the timeline for me getting out (with or without a date) was for right about now.  Spring and Summer 'round these parts are 'being out' times. There are art fairs, street festivals, all manner of goings on to increase the options over, 'dinner and a movie'. Even if one wanted nothing more than to walk (or bike) along the lakefront and gaze about that famous skyline.

I feel like I missed last year due to the move and various obstacles.   

Well, this Spring is done.  The lakefront is closed. The parks are closed. The first big annual art fair normally held the first weekend in June has been cancelled and there are sure to be others to follow.  Even as governors convene to discuss a re-opening we are likely looking at June or (sigh) July before public venues re-open. Even then, there will likely be limitations. The re-opening will be a gradual event. (As it should be.)   

I've come to realize in recent weeks that my most social outing had been to the grocery store.  And now, even that is gone as the grocery stores are limiting occupancy to 1 per family.  It just makes more sense for my daughter to be 'the one' as she does most of the food prep.  And just my luck, there are no jewelry kiosks open (not essential) to take a few links out of a watch I bought in anticipation of being 'out and about' and not wanting to rely on my phone for the time.   

Oh, well. 

The upside to being locked down and socially distant is my hair has more time to  get fuller/longer.  It is nearly long/full enough to execute the style I have in mind. And, I have time to get back on my 'get fit' (i.e. lose weight) wagon. I fell off some time ago and well, yikes.

Time. It's on my side.  Sort of.  I guess. All for the greater good. 

Be safe. Stay safe. 

    

The Newest Normal

Having not dated since my break-up I'll admit to being woefully out of practice. Having not dated locally since . . . well, shit, since before my oldest (30) was even conceived, I'll admit to being just . . . whoa.

But now I'm dating. Not dating as in seeing a few people to see how they fit. No, I'm dating one woman and discovering how we fit.  The indeterminate "US" from a couple of posts (and few weeks) ago has grown into a definite relationship as so declared on FB.

A good fit, yes. A good match, again, yes. Still, dating . . .

Dating can be, is . . . challenging. Even when one is ripe to the idea of opening heart, mind, body, and life to another, for another, there are . . . logistics; schedules, finances, families, and jobs just to name a few. Then there is all the newness, the first times, the discoveries . . . all of which can be, is . . . fun, exciting. It is, can be . . . daunting.

It is very, very easy to become accustomed to having good time, to become conditioned to expect it every time out, to fall into a routine and then become soundly disappointed with the routine is broken even for a very good reason, a very worthy cause.

And in our brief stint dating we've had both, the good times and the disappointments. The good times however, have outdistanced the disappointments. And while we are determined to maintain that ratio, there are those challenges, those logistics.

Still . .  I am up for the challenge, the earlier "whoa" not-with-standing, for we are a good fit.

We are dating one another exclusively. And this is my newest normal.

Whoa.







 

Distraction

Were I committed to participating in the A-Z April Blogging Challenge today's letter could be "D". And further, were I committed to participating in the A-Z April Blogging Challenge by letter "D" word, subject designation:  Distraction. 


You remember back in grade school when you were crushing on someone and you could barely keep your mind on your spelling words, cursive writing practice, or multiplication tables? All you could think about was that smile, those eyes, having lunch together, and passing one another on the way home from school?


Distraction 


And what about some time later when all you could do with any consistency is write their name over and over on your notebook? Using different color pens? Adding stickers? Making {Art} out their name by adding wings, curlicues, faces, or plants?

Distraction 


Now grown up, mature, with some life under your belt and a full menu of items clamoring for your attention and yet, you want to talk with her every minute of every day despite your respective busy schedules. You work to memorize her phone number so you don't waste a fraction of a second  scrolling your address book. (Assigning her number to a speed dial button seems...off, somehow).

Distraction

As one nifty day leads to another and then yet another, as you begin to adjust your life to encompass the thoughts, emotions, and being of another, as you begin to think of yourselves as an "US" you likely find your mind flitting from this idea to that, your body going through the motions of task completion but your mind clearly engaged elsewhere.  You likely find yourself in a Den of Distraction. Or, that could just be me.

But let me state for the record that being distracted by that smile, those eyes, the thought of having lunch (or whatever and then some) together . . .

desirable. delectable. dandy. 

There is an "US"

We met several weeks ago as many folks do, on-line. We were both on a meeting-to-dating site that made no more but no fewer promises than any of the others toward success at "finding a match." (Why do I feel compelled to break into song, matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match, find me a find, catch me a catch)? And we were both out there awhile before our respective profiles brushed against one another.

She wrote me. I wrote back. She responded. And then so did I.  We spoke via telephone and soon agreed to meet face-to-face.

We met in a cafe. Had a lunch that bled into the dinner set-up where we said our good-byes. But in the meantime, we talked. And talked. And talked. Such a good time we had, so much discovery.

That get together has led to others and even  hand-holding.  Ahhhhh . . .

She recently shared: <i>Somehow, I managed to find – managed to be found by – someone who shares my understanding of the world and the nature of reality . . .  

Which could have easily been my share. 

Still, as often as we have spoken, as grand a time we've had with one another, as close as we are becoming, we are both cautious and dare I say, somewhat fearful. This is new, is precious, is fragile in its beginnings. 

And it is everything. Again.   

Thus, despite her thinking me beautiful and me thinking the same about her, despite all we've shared and the eagerness we have for more, despite the discoveries made and the euphoria of the prospect of future discoveries, we are careful at naming this . . . confluence of events, except to mutually assert  that she and I are most assuredly, most gleefully, an US! 

   

never let them see me cry*

the week tested my mettle in more ways than one. it made me cancel plans to celebrate with my very dear friend one of those milestone birthdays. missing the event pained me deeply and will haunt me for days, if not weeks to come. it made me concerned over my financial present and scared me shit-less over my financial future. it made me cry. it made me sick. it made me tired, weary, and just . . . damn.

but.

i held it together, mostly.  thanks in large part to the presence and help of a new friend.  her listening to me this week, the silver around all the clouds.

she and i are navigating a path toward being more than friends. but for now a friend is what i needed and a friend is what she's been and for that i am truly grateful.  that said, traveling the path toward more . .  the thought, the moves, those feelings made the week bearable and the prospect of beyond, brighter, no matter what.

*six word saturday submission   

The Posts I Lost

 . . . were some sweet posts. Well, not really. The first was about dating, or more specifically one date conducted via telephone for she is in another state (in more ways than one.) It is probably good that the post got eaten by a post eating animal, as it wasn't very . . . well, sweet. 

The second post I lost was about my bat shit crazy older brother. I won't express just how un-sweet the ranting and raving flying off the tips of my fingers sounded even to my own ears. It was likely headed to draft purgatory. That is, had it not been eaten by the same post eating animal that swallowed post number one.  

Then I composed most of a third post about my dad (or rather, a package he sent me) in my head. I decided it best stay in my head. 

Post number one made me happily nostalgic. Post number two and the idea of number three had the opposite effect, that is to say not happily nostalgic.  

Bottom line: LOST IT

Just Some Thoughts

I'm trying, really, I am. Or not. But, I am, a little. The dating. On-Line. Yes, I'm trying. Still. Kinda. Sorta. Really, I don't want to date (I don't think) so much as to meet someone or a couple of someones to "hang out" with, after some time conversing, of course. But, I can't seem to get past the profiles. And pictures. Of dogs. No, not figuratively. I mean literally, pictures of dogs. As the profile pic. To meet . . . people. I think.


Anyhoo. . . . speaking of dogs, to be specific, hot dogs. I don't eat hot dogs all that often. But, now and again a good Chicago Style Dog is just the ticket. And since a new place opened in the neighborhood AND there was a coupon, well, no time like the present.

The new sandwich place (that of the arm waving man dressed like a hot dog) features beef, pork, turkey, and chicken products serves something called a Chicago Style Pretzel Dog. Which is just a hot dog with the classic toppings (tomatoes, onions, relish, mustard, sport peppers, celery salt, and pickles) on a pretzel roll (which takes it out of the Chicago Style realm, as that roll is poppy seed). Intriguing if you're in to that sort of thing, which I am, from time to time and the time was today.

Whatever hopes I had were dashed as soon as I discovered:
1. it wasn't a footlong hot dog sandwiched between all that bread, but two regular sized dogs fighting for space among the gigantic tomato wedges and other toppings.
2. it was slathered with mustard. Now, I like mustard on my dogs but there was GOMPERS of mustard on this thing!
3. the worst technical error in the history of hot dog serving technical errors. The damn dog(s) were C-O-L-D.

Now, I'll forgive that they don't seem to have a grill or a proper steamer (they should get out of the hot dog biz immediately if they don't intend to acquire one or the other, or BOTH) but to pull these limp tubes of meat product out of a vat of c-o-l-d water is just w-r-o-n-g! Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Unfortunately, I didn't know the water (& the dogs) were cold until I got home, taken off shoes, one of the two pairs of socks, pants, and 3 of the 4 top layers. So no, there was no going back out.

I did taste the sandwich I picked up for D (an Italian Beef--except with turkey) dipped, and topped with peppers and it was ok. I don't think I'll be replacing my fave Italian beef with this turkey version, but it wasn't bad. It was hot which was a major plus over the dogs.

The fries were good. Not great, but ok. And the toppings were fresh.

I have to give the new sandwich place a C for the first round. It may be awhile before round two (if they last that long). When or If, I definitely won't be ordering a hot dog.

Now, must go watch O*rah talk it out with B. Walt*rs.