doin’ too much writin’ on that Match.comma thang place.
Heavens to betsy…it’s been more than a month since I took time to write anything here. For those of you who use this as a “me update” I offer apologies. My writing time has been proffered to my future, in the shape of emails to prospective Mr. Me’s. It is, as I have said before, one of the most bizarre places I have been in all christendom — in fact in all places period. That isn’t a dot comma thang, either.
I’m all moved in to my new digs. Love it. Had a planting party the weekend after I moved in…I bought the plants, friends and relatives (sometimes the same people, sometimes not) and they placed them, planted them, and watered them in. There were over 25 people here all together. I even provided a massage therapist who gave massages to those who were aching, or pre-aching. A grand time was had by all.
Then there was the M.com guy from Morocco. Oh good lord. We had communicated for over a month by the time he got back to New Mexico from his year teaching in Marrakesh, followed by two weeks visiting with relatives in Scotland. So here we are, he in Albuquerque, me in Sacramento. He arrived in Sac’to the Monday after he got back to Abq. I pretty well knew as soon as I met him at the airport that he was a no go for me. If I could have gone to sleep before arriving at my house, I would have, in fact was probably snoring as I drove. I just didn’t know the etiquette/protocol for these situations, being a novice. When can I/should I tell him to shove off? He insisted on taking his luggage back to my place, then going back downtown to get some good coffee and a croissant. As you would surmise, my place is well past downtown, and a turn-around-and-go-back to downtown for the coffee. By the time we got back to my place after coffee, we had a little touchy feely time, a little snuggling, after which he announced we were not a match.
If only I had known it was ok to tell the person as soon as you knew…it could have been oneupmanship. I would have gotten in my viewpoint sooner. As it was, we laughed about it, made plans for the rest of the week (I had taken off work for this a====le.) We planned a trip to the local art museum for a glorious afternoon of viewing the show of a Japanese ceramicist (this man purports to adore the arts, etc.), go to Bodega Bay and stay the night in order for him to take photos of the sunrises (supposedly a photographer also), do stuff in the immediate area, then go back to Albuquerque on Saturday.
Well, we did the Monday thing. Talked and finally went out to dinner (Korean), to a movie (Ratatouille), then back to my place for long-awaited roll in the hay. We had each thought about whether it was a good thing since it would just be gratuitous, unemotional sex. Was it as good for him as it was for me? Possibly. I had a great time! All night and into the next morning.
The next day about 10am I found him at his laptop in the kitchen with his credit card in his hand. When asked he was doing, he said, “Renting a car.” Hmmm…that was quite thoughtful, says me. A car to get us to the beach and back safely. He told me that he was confused, needed time to think on his own, and would be driving up the coast to northern California for the week. I shook my head incredulously and walked out of the room.
He left that afternoon, with a gentle kiss on the lips and one on each cheek. Cut out the crap, mr. gentle and kind. Wasn’t like that last night. And, oh yeah, you could have told me you were leaving, since I’m sure you decided that on Monday as soon as we met.
Dang good thang I didn’t really like him. I might have been devastated. Learned a lot about myself during this short-lived relationship. Learned what sex without caring or any emotion can be. Didn’t like it, until yesterday — and last night — and early this morning. Oh my goodness. What a date! We wrote 29 emails in less than 24 hours, met on the second day, talked for a couple of hours, then got down to business. He is an expert in his field, or should I say in my field? I felt like singing Victor Herbert’s “Ah Sweet Mystery of Life at Last I’ve Found You” repeatedly, as did Madeline Kahn in Young Frankenstein. No, this is not the first time I have experienced this prodigious act, however the first time it has had so much depth and meaning. Suffice it to say this man’s mouth and what’s in it was a true coming attraction.
Ok, now I need a shower. Must leave you dears to finish reading a book recommended by my massage therapist. Did I tell you I have a massage therapist? Sure enough.
The book, you say? The Round Heeled Woman. Look it up.
later…
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