Non-Dating

It's been awhile without a post. There haven't been any dates to report on, and contrary to my anonymous commenter in the previous post, I sure haven't seen a line of men vying for the opportunity to spend time with me. (But if that commenter has any friends...let me know!)

About the only dating I'm doing is going out with Friend-With-Benefits (FWB), but they're not "Date" dates. We've become very good friends, talking on the phone just about every day for a few minutes at least, and I always enjoy his company. But FWB says he's still not ready to date (still dealing with personal crap after his last devastating relationship and break-up). It's the whole "it's not you, it's me" argument. I vacillate between being annoyed at this and not really caring. Part of me feels like we're basically already dating, so why not call it that. I don't think anything would really change. But the other part of me worries that things might change, that actually calling it "dating" might make both of us take it more seriously, and I'm not sure whatever-this-is would last.

So I'm trying to just enjoy the moment, as they say. We've gone out a couple times to nice restaurants, hung out at a bar for a football game, and tonight we're seeing a comedian. Funny, though...when we have these non-date-dates, we don't have sex. What's with that?!

Autumn is in the Air

It seems like overnight it has become fall, my favorite time of year. As I walk through City Hall Park in the mornings on my way to the subway, I can feel a crispness in the air. The leaves haven't started to turn yet, but already people can be seen in jackets and colorful scarves.

It was a beautiful weekend weather-wise. I volunteered with the Hudson River Park and found myself weeding and pruning along my favorite waterway. I signed up for the volunteer activity through New York Cares, the volunteer clearinghouse of opportunities, and didn't realize I was committing to a multi-week project. But I enjoyed it, so it's not an issue. Plus, the coordinator said I can miss a day if I'm travelling or otherwise occupied.

I'm very excited that my sister Jenn is coming to visit in a few weeks! I don't know which is more exciting: that she's coming to visit me for the first time in NYC or that she's coming alone, sans kids and husband. (Of course, the kids and husband aren't thrilled to be missing out on the trip.) I'm already making plans and getting tickets and reservations...it will be great to share it all with her.

The Nose Knows

I have a very strong sense of smell. Occasionally, when walking past mounds of garbage on the street in NYC or in a particularly pungent subway station, I have to hold my breath or focus on just breathing through my mouth.

The way a guy smells is very important to me. I'm not talking about sweat or "body odor," but I'm referring to someone's natural smell, underneath the cologne or sweat. It's something that either is very attractive to me or completely repulsive. Sometimes, I can smell someone just sitting across the table from me. Other people do not have such a strong scent and it may take nuzzling their neck to discover their individual aroma.

Earlier today, I rode the elevator with a UPS delivery guy. He emitted such a strange, strong odor, I found myself holding my breath and sneaking oxygen in small gulps.

According to scientists, how our body odors are perceived as pleasant and sexy to another person is a highly selective process. We usually smell best to a person whose genetically based immunity to disease differs most from our own, with the idea that together you could produce stronger, healthier children.

Maybe it's pheromones, or maybe just compatibility, but smell is definitely a deal-breaker for me.

Can't Commit

I volunteered on Saturday with a group from my church at the Habitat for Humanity work site in Brooklyn. It's Habitat's largest housing project yet, a multi-unit structure that will house 41 families. We mounted sheets of concrete around the tubs to prevent mildew.

Yesterday, several people joined the church after completing the four week New Members class. A couple of people teased me that I haven't joined yet. The Methodist church asks you to commit to giving "your prayers, your presence, your gifts and your service." I'm already doing all that, but still I feel very hesitant about making the official commitment of joining.

Am I afraid of commitment? Possibly.

Logically, it doesn't make sense. After all, there's nothing truly required to be a member, and I'm already active in the choir, tithing, and volunteer activities. I'm not sure what's holding me back. Maybe I like not being "tied down," even to a church.

9/11 Tribute

The "Tribute in Light" is shining again, marking the location where the Twin Towers once stood. It's a beautiful remembrance.

And check out this photo montage on Newsweek, picturing how steel beams from the World Trade Center towers have been used in many memorials across the country and world.

Musings & Observations

Many species of animals have been observed behaving in herd or pack mentality. It is characterized by individuals in a group acting together without planned direction. It can become dangerous or violent when a pack attacks, such as a pack of dogs attacking a newcomer to the group. Sometimes, humans act like this, too.
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The squirrels in Union Square are so tame. If you are calm and still, and if there's not too much pedestrian traffic, they will walk right up to you, within 12 inches, and look at you, silently pleading for a bite of whatever you're eating. The pigeons will come even closer, but they're not as cute.
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I've been counting (don't ask me why) how many celebrities and rodents I've seen since moving to the city. Celebrities: 5. Rodents: 19. (This doesn't include squirrels. I'm just counting rats and mice, most often seen in the subway, down on the track.)
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New York City has a lot to offer, including some really horrible smells.
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Far too many cabbies in the City don't know where they're going, but few will admit to their mistake and voluntarily cut the fare. Almost makes up for the fact that you arrive 20 minutes late.

Defining Success

The great thing about Facebook (and other similar social networks) is that old friends can find each other again. (The bad thing about Facebook is that people from your past that you never really liked request to be your friend.)

Last week, I got a friend request from a girl who was one of my good friends in 7th through 9th grade. Talk about blast from the past! The ironic thing is, I've been thinking about her lately, as there is a girl at my new office that reminds me of her.

I enjoyed catching up with her and hearing what she's doing now. I was envious of her family photos representing her husband and three kids. Upon investigation, she told me two of the kids are her husband's from a previous marriage, and her daughter is also from a previous marriage. She's got a great job in Austin as a recruiter and joked that she might call on me someday to recruit me.

She gushed over my "success" -- my job, my position with a company in NYC -- but I told her to me, she seems like the more successful one with not only a good job but a beautiful family and husband.

Sometimes I feel like I'm just biding my time until my "real" life begins.

The Meeting

My second match -- Jon -- was nice. I had Googled him ahead of time and was able to see his Facebook profile picture and find out where he worked.

He chose the bar, a small, hip place on the Lower East side. This was fine by me as I still don't know a lot of cool hangouts. I arrived 15 minutes early -- you never know how traffic is going to be, and I'd rather be early than late -- and noticed he was standing outside by the door, talking on his cell phone. He barely glanced at me as I walked in, so he obviously didn't think I was the one he was waiting for. I went in to the bar and watched him. He made several phone calls and watched for people coming in, checking his watch periodically. At exactly 7:30, when we were supposed to meet, I text messaged him, "Are you standing outside? I'm at the bar." I just couldn't take the suspense any longer, and I figured if he saw me and wanted to leave, so be it. He came in and sat down, though.

As I noticed in our brief phone conversation, he's pretty quiet. I learned he's an only child, raised on Long Island, NY, and works in sales/marketing. He's attractive: 6 feet, dark hair, brown eyes. He keeps in shape by swimming, volleyball and karate. But honestly, I felt like I did most of the talking. Blah, blah, blah! Why is it when you're nervous, you either become an unstoppable chatterbox (me) or as quiet as a turtle (him)?

Overall, it went fine. After about an hour, I was getting hungry and asked if he wanted to grab some food somewhere. He admitted he'd eaten before, and I said I'd just pick something up on my way home. Then he said, "So, should we go?" It was kind of an awkward ending. I wasn't trying to end it, just getting hungry. Oh well.

Since he wasn't overly expressive, I wasn't sure what he thought of the meeting, so I asked, "Well, should we do this again sometime?" He said yes and we said goodbye.

I'm not going to call him. I'm leaving the ball in his court, so to speak. We'll see if he calls.

Tonight...the Second Match

Some of my friends and family have asked me "any news from the Matchmaker?" After the last disaster, when I provided copious feedback and expressed my incredible disappointment, I knew it might be awhile before they matched me with another. Not because I came off as difficult, but because they didn't want to make that big of a mistake again. Plus, they told me many of their customers go "on hold" during the summer months when they are travelling. I assured them I'd rather wait for a good one then be matched with someone just for the sake of a match.

So it's with some amount of trepidation that I go to meet match #2 tonight. Our one brief phone conversation was a bit awkward (did I wake him (in the middle of the afternoon)? catch him unawares? did he forget he signed up with this service?) He picked the bar we are meeting at tonight, so I don't even know what to expect. We'll see...

My Youniverse

My mom passed this personality assessment on to me. It's cool: you choose from a group of photos to complete each statement, such as "The best thing about friends is..."


My assessment rings true:


Dreamer
You're romantic in your outlook with a bit of a taste for the exotic. You love feeling the sea breeze in your hair, sun on your skin...You always take the first dip. When it comes to art, you appreciate flair and precision. Highbrow and in the know, you've got an eye for fine detail....


Thriller
You're insatiable! Your thirst for affection never drops. There's always so much flirting to be done! When it comes to holidays (vacation), you like to be immersed in a completely different world.


Back to Basics
You love the luxury of taking time for yourself. There's nothing quite as enjoyable as relaxing, unwinding and living a pampered life. And why not? You deserve it. As for the home, you have very cool and contemporary taste. You like your surroundings to be simple and functional.


Thoughtful
For you, friendship is all about being there for one another. You can't imagine life without your best friends.

Try it out for yourself: Http://DNA.imagini.net/friends

Baby in my future?

So, while I was in New Orleans for that brief visit, I did visit a palm reader/Tarot card gal. (Had to see if the NY and NO psychics were in synch!?)

She laid down the tarot cards and said "Oh my" in a dismayed voice.
"What?" I giggled to hear my doomsday fate.
"I hope you want kids," she said.
"I do!!"

Apparently, there were a multitude of cards predicting my fertility. I asked if there was a man in the picture, and the answer was no! LOL!

Brief Trip to New Orleans

Here's Peter, Lindsay and Emma in New Orleans. We wandered down to this bench on the banks of the Mississippi after we arrived on Thursday. I was sitting beside Peter when suddenly something sharp poked my left forearm. 

"Ouch! What the hell was that?"

We figured it must have been a bee, as I pulled the stinger out of my arm. It stung for several hours, and then proceeded to turn red and swell over the next day or so.

We were down in the French Quarter, in downtown New Orleans. There are all these beautiful balconies.

The night before we left, we took a paddleboat dinner cruise on the Natchez. It was great. The food was terrific and the tour was very informative and interesting.

After the dinner cruise, we went back to the hotel to change and go out on the town, but we received letters under our doors stating the hotel had to close by 8 a.m. the next morning due to the mandatory evacuation. They suggested we all get to the airport while taxis and traffic were still moving. We packed up and spent our last night in the airport. It was impossible to sleep, with the constant announcements and other noise. We were all exhausted but happy to see the ticket agents come in at 4 a.m. The airport was FREEZING cold, and Lindsay offered her hoodie to Peter.

Lindsay and I walked over to a Denny's around 2 or 3 a.m. We learned from a Homeland Security guy there that most of the airport and airline employees had been released from duty, and Homeland Security and TSA workers were flown in from all around the country to run the airport. As a parting gift, he told us, "There's only about 1/3 of the crew to run the airport, and we're expecting 20,000 people, so you better get there early." 

Early? We're already there! I don't know how we could have gotten there any earlier.

We all got out Saturday morning. Home, exhausted, but home.