Tuesday, August 10, 2004

'Friday'

This blank screen is stifling me. I've looked at it a thousand times since my last post, but just haven't had words. Mental constipation. Creative constipation. So here goes... *poot*

This last weekend was odd on so many levels. Good odd. Can't remember a whole lot about Friday, other than hanging out with J who was en route from Tacoma to Myrtle's Beach with a detour back up to Minnesota to visit family. Her husband is already at the other end setting up house and preparing for his teaching gig. It was a good night to run into a random person you once knew (she was my photography instructor in the fall of 2000, then worked at George's for a brief period), laugh over a few beers and talk about the few things you have in common. So this is going to be my 'Friday' story, and it doesn't have a lot to do with the actual evening...

When I was in the phot/lab class, I was single and had been for a loooong time. So J decides that she's going to set me up with her best friend C. C calls me, we nervously chatter and set up plans to meet at the Sanctuary. I immediately call J to tell her, but her line's busy (prob'ly talking to C).

The appointed night arrives, and while I was mildly nervous, there just weren't any of those little jittery butterfly thingies. Ah well. I walk in, let my eyes settle into the ambience, and spot C AND J sitting together in front of the fireplace. Ok, that's odd, but J had warned me that C was shy and she was just going to remain long enough for the ice to break. The three of us are sitting around on the overstuffed leather furniture eating a few appetizers, drinking wine, chatting. I decide to get more comfortable, and slide down the to the floor, sitting Indian style. So about twenty minutes later, as we're all yakking away, I feel the stir to use the facilities.

Well, for this date, I wore my nicest 'comfort' shirt (light green fleece button-down), my favorite pair of Levi's and a stupid pair of Clark's that has tiny buckles on the side. Uber comfy, but damned if I wasn't stuck to the carpet! For the next two minutes, J and C are working to free my shoe from its berber hell.

Know what? That was the frikkin' HIGHLIGHT of the night!! I was so embarrassed, but luckily I'm blessed with the ability to laugh at myself... and my shoes. And laughing, in my book, is a hell of a lot better than trying to have a conversation with someone who's 'very likeable but there's nothin' gonna happen and we both know it'.

I am in no way unhappy for having spent time with this man, short-lived though it was. He is considerate, handsome, intelligent.... and now married to J.

As Lily White Intentions would say:
Done. Thanks.


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