Facebook Friend or Foe

Immediately after posting my last blog I stumbled upon Sweet’s Facebook page. And by “stumbled upon” I mean easily discovered after engaged in an active search. At 42 years of age you would THINK I would be able to temper my emotions and rein in my downward spiral of doom after snooping into places I have not been invited. But NOPE, I still have enough of my tragically insecure 16 year old girly pink matter crammed up there in my scull along with the gray which tends to take over in cases such as these to drive me absolutely batty.

As I flipped through multiple photos of wine bars and jazz clubs featuring various women I began to doubt my strengthening position in our burgeoning dating scheme. It wasn’t that I was disturbed by the dates (I would be a hypocrite to cry Scoundrel! - considering what went down with one of NYs bravest) no, what made my heart ache was that I was missing from the lineup. Seriously THIS is what made me sad, the fact that a guy that I’m dating did not have OUR dates posted publically for all to comment. All my insecurity came rushing in, flooding my head and my heart with thoughts and emotions all skewed to destroy my warm fuzzy feelings of excitement and new romantic opportunities and replace them with thoughts of “You’re not attractive”, “He’s embarrassed of you”, “He’s using you”, “Sure you are fun BUT he would rather be seen in public with these other women.”…. Blah blah blah…

Yes in reality there could be TONS of reasons why I’m vacant on his Facebook and as an adult I shouldn’t care. But how the heck do you un-SEE things you shouldn’t have been looking at in the first place? Meanwhile while I was drowning in the minutia of each comment and photo tag, Sweets inadvertently drove me further into my box of crazy by going completely MIA – yep no contact, full on radio silence. My sadness quickly moved to anger then by Saturday morning (after evaluating three days of carousing posted publically on Facebook) shifted gears directly into disinterest.

By Saturday afternoon Sweets rang my phone and low key plans were made for that evening. I was not optimistic or overly enthusiastic BUT I promised myself I would arrive in full Gee Happy Puppy form and give it my best shot, even if my head was a jumble of images and comments that were not intentioned for my eyes.

Sweets arrived at my local speakeasy and I can’t be certain if it was the spicy bourbon or his tenderness or a scrumptious combo of both but in moments my angst melted away and I didn’t snap back to the real world until I entered my office Monday morning.

In the end I’m glad I know what I think I know, or at least I’m glad that I saw what I saw. The photos on Facebook tempered my expectations but have not destroyed them. Additionally I will follow Red’s demand that she laid down while talking me off the cliff of self-sabotage Saturday morning, Keep that lid TIGHTLY on your box of crazy, no guy needs to see that….. yet.

I Must Have Done Something Good

Life is going super well, maybe that’s why the blog has been very quiet. Dr. Head is doing wonders for my mood, no tears in MONTHS and she’s great with giving me the tools to deal with unfavorable situations that used to drive my anxiety quotient off the charts. It’s been a hard row to hoe for some but the “new communications plan” that I put into effect is best for me, and that’s how I roll these days.

Along with my good humor the dating goddesses have smiled warmly upon my rosy cheeks and sent me a man who ummmm…. makes my eyes sparkle and my mouth turn into a permanent grin. I think I may be smitten, and I KNOW for sure I am being wooed.

Last I wrote Mr. Woods was making my toes curl with his sexy bad ass ways and smooth charm, but that coolness became cold and the bad ass became boring. Mr. Woods allusive coyness was not worth my time so we let that thing fizzle out. It was fun and Mr. Woods played a HUGE part in resuscitating my swagger but without the proper amount of real live face time my crush quickly petered out. I went on a few more dates; nothing special came of any of them until I met Sweets on the Sunday of Thanksgiving weekend. Sweets is charming and unassuming but with a solid confidence that really rocks my boat. At first his enthusiastic energy was a bit frantic but quickly it grew on me or maybe his edge softened a bit, either way I’m digging his exuberance and delight in his optimistic cheeriness.

Sweets is my age, divorced father of two, with a career in finance and a head of crimson hair. He seems to delight in my dorky love of all things ridiculous, from our first real date riding the tram to Roosevelt Island to visit the FDR memorial to my habit of breaking into TV jingles from the 70’s. He holds my hand when we walk down the street and helps me on and off with my coat. Doors open, chairs are attended to and the bill is always paid with Sweets commenting, “It’s my privilege to pay the check.” HOW DID I GET HIM?! Will you all allow me to gloat even more and say that the man has a triathlete’s body that intimidates me to shame once we head behind doors “after hours”? CRAP, Sweets is blowing my mind and warming my heart and it frightens me to think of all the ways I could screw this up. I don’t want to screw it up, I want it to keep going and growing and exploring. I try to relax and just let the “liking” happen but it’s so hard for me to believe that it is all so real.

Before my tween like babbling fills 10 more pages of blog I’ll end with this last little tidbit – after our second date Sweets mailed me a hand written note thanking me for a “spectacularly splendid evening”…. Seriously Sweets, you have me fully.