When I was 11 years old, a boy named Mike Love (just like the Beach Boy) declared his feelings for me with a classic Will you go with me? Check 'Yes' or 'No' note. There were little boxes beneath the choices and everything, and if I hadn't had to check a box and give it back, I'd have the note to this day (oh, how I wish there had been fax machines and scanners back in 1974 ...)
Mike's note had come after a brief courtship consisting of one date (my first). He'd taken me for ice cream after school, and I don't remember anything about it except sitting on the banks of Oatka Creek with our cones.
What I remember more clearly was my agony over whether or not to check box "Yes" or "No." Mike may have been nice and cute, but he was a good foot shorter than I was. I was by no means tall; he was simply tiny. And while I hate to admit this, that sort of thing mattered in the 5th grade. I didn't like Mike enough to overlook the height thing (or my own insecurities), so I checked "No," and that was the end of that.
This formative experience tells me two things about myself. First, I can be truly shallow, and two, when I'm not smitten, I know it.
Since becoming single just over a year ago (after more than six years in a relationship), I've probably met 15 women for dates of one kind or another. All have come about through online means, and of the 15, I've only really flipped over two (Maggie and Heather). In each case, I immediately knew I was totally smitten. It wasn't something I had to think about, or weigh, or consider, or examine ... it just was. In fact, I can count the times I've been 100% smitten in my life on one hand (well, I could if I had six fingers).
My date last night had many good qualities (smoking hot was right near the top of the list, if I'm being honest), and we definitely had a good time. But I knew right away that I wasn't smitten and never would be. If we see each other again, it will be to have some fun - it will never amount to much more than that.
I was supposed to go on another date tonight (when it rains, it pours), but I postponed it until tomorrow. I just couldn't face another one so soon.
I definitely have to go tomorrow, though - the manicure and eyebrow wax is only going to last so long.
More early dating drama - a letter home from camp in 1975:
2 comments:
15 different dates? I don't think I've had 15 dates in my life.
Perhaps you're trying too hard? I met my wife when I wasn't looking. We just ended up one night doing the same thing in the same place.
I read somewhere once, or heard it, that before we can comfortably be with someone (find true love), we have to be happy by ourselves. It's a love yourself before you can love another kind of thing.
I dunno, maybe it's just a cliche.
Still cheering you on,
M
Hi Karen....I have been really remiss at leaving comments lately as my summer has gotten busier and busier...sometimes I read a couple entries at a time. Anyway: right to the point. Did you know I am a reality TV junkie? my dirty little secret. My current obsession is a show called "Workout" on Bravo. Totally hot, ripped, lipstick power lesbian in Beverly Hills running a trendy gym and juggling a psycho relationship and LA dating scene. The whole exercise / hot lesbo trainer combo might actually inspire you somehow...
Oh...wait. You did that in 1990.
never mind. MK
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