Entering the world of dating after such a long time is interesting. By interesting of course I mean not that interesting. I am not sure what I am doing, having trouble getting into the rhythm of the dating dance, and frankly making a bit of a fool out of myself. I am not good at telling the difference between a man and a pig, which is a drag. You’d think telling them apart would be easy for a vegetarian like myself, but alas, no. Damn pigs.
It occurred to me today that I really need to get back in sync with life, as I’m a little off. In an attempt to get my groove back it has become clear that the right groove is difficult to find, and if you finally do find it, then loose it, getting it back can seem impossible. There is a groove to love, a groove to motherhood, and a groove to life in general. Sadly they are all different so it is complicated. Here is a day in my search for a groove.
I was in Burbank for a doctor’s appointment. As I sat in the waiting room, a man sat down across from me and he was wearing those running shoes where each toe is separated into its own little socket. I was staring at his weird shoes, which reminded me of some socks I owned in the 70’s, when the woman next to him started up a conversation about his shoes. She was flirting up a storm and I watched with amusement, as he played along.
As they did the dating dance, I was fascinated as it quickly became clear that while both were dancing, they were not listening to the same music. She was cliché as she leaned in to touch his arm with a laugh and throw back of her hair. He was not really listening to her, but rather focused on her boobs, which I’m sure would have been cuter were her bra the right size. I promised myself I would never try to find my groove at the doctor’s office.
I was headed to Koreatown for a meeting and stopped at Starbucks on the way. As I was in line I watched a couple chatting over their coffee. They were speaking in Russian and things were not going well. She was crying and talking loudly while he stared at her with a pained expression. I’m not sure that the pain was from what she was saying as much as it was from simply having to listen to what she was saying. They may have been breaking up.
I was staring and trying to not be obvious about it, as I wished I spoke Russian and looked around for a translator. I got my drink and as I was about to leave, I stopped to get some napkins and took them over to her. She had amazing blue eyes and when she looked up my heart broke for her. She took the napkins and said thank you. I wanted to hug her. I promised myself I would never kill someone else’s groove at Starbucks.
I had the dreaded “what are you going to do all summer” talk with my son. He is a great kid and I love him more than anything on this planet, or any other planet for that matter. This young man is smart, funny, charming, and the person I would want to spend all my time with. He is also just 17 and while he is certain that makes him an adult, and even though he looks like an adult, he is still a child, my child, and the kid needs to go out and get a job.
The thought of him lounging around all summer is not good, but I have to laugh at his approach. He tells me he is taking a couple of weeks off to relax from the school year, then he will get a job. Apparently he will simply wake up one day and a job will present itself to him. Important to note he says it will be a great job, not a mundane summer job. I promised myself I would not laugh or yell when he realizes he needs to work hard to get into his groove.
I got a message from a man on JDate who told me he reads my blogs and thinks the best way to move on after a relationship ends is to just jump back on the horse, and he is willing to be the my horse. Really? My dating life is now about men on JDate offering me sympathy sex? My blog is now pimping for me? Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, I was contacted by a man in Canada who was looking for a long distance relationship.
He felt that his coming out to LA once a month would be a great thing. We could have dinner, get to know each other, and then he said, “we can get into a good groove:” Oh. My. God. I am 47 years old and ready to throw in the dating towel if this is the selection of men I have to choose from. I thanked him for the offer, sent my regards to his wife, and poured myself a strong drink. I promised myself I would not panic and get another cat.
It was an exhausting day and by now I was in bed, too tired to cry and too tired to sleep. I just thought about everything and we all know nothing good will come out of lying in bed with a drink thinking about your life. I am blessed and lucky in so many ways, but at the end of the day I am a little sad, and I think it is all about my groove. I am wise enough to know the difference between wanting and needing, so what is it I seek?
Some days I laugh at it all, some days I cry at it all, and most days I just try to make it through knowing that tomorrow will be better. By better of course I mean closer to getting my groove back. Maybe I never really had a groove, so I’m not getting it back as much as I am simply looking for it. I don’t know. At the end of the day instead of worrying about the groove, I should just enjoy the music of this crazy life and keep the faith.
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