Tales from the Trenches Tuesday

I was trying all this morning to think of which funny tale I could share with you all today. Sadly, I wasn’t able to come up with much because my mind has not really been on the losers, creeps and weirdos that I have dated. It’s been occupied with so many other things lately…things so unfun they make me LONG for occupying my mind with thinking of loser, creep and weirdo stories. Which is why I knew it was still important for me to take a break from my unfun thoughts and come here to at least post something today. I’m just sayin’…the bar is set a little low today, my apologies folks.

R and I had been dating for a few weeks and I think we were at the point that it was becoming clear to both of us that we were heading towards being exclusive. I honestly remember that time really fondly because we really were “dating” – we both put efforts into planning fun things to do, made plans with each other in advance, emailed each other articles or other funny things that made us think of the other, called one another on the phone, etc. We didn't play games or act too casual or aloof. There were no 10pm texts on a Friday night asking what each other were up to. No late night plans to meet up at someone's house afterhours. Sigh…the good old days of dating and people actually courting one another.

So this particular night, R had made plans for us to see a comedian we both liked at the Improv. I met him at his apartment first and we had a cozy dinner before heading over to the show. I can’t remember now if we went out for drinks after the show or not, but I do remember that we had wine with dinner, and then drinks at the show and then got back to his apt pretty late.

For the ladies reading this, some of you may be of the camp that pre-determines which night will be “the night” – and I don’t think I need to spell out for anyone what I mean by “the night.” And while I am generally a planner by nature, that particular decision is sometimes sort of up in the air to me. So I can’t say that I had made a decision one way or the other before the date started, but I had later that evening when we got back to his place.

And as an obligatory side note, isn’t that always a little exciting when you make that decison? Maybe it’s because it is one of the few times you feel kind of in control of a new relationship since 99.99% of the time it is the girl who gets to make thatparticular decision.

Anyway, decision was made. Game on .

But the game was not on…it was delayed at best. Things were clearly not , shall we say working as they should be. I don’t know if R had had one too many drinks, or if that really had “never happened before” but he looked at me and in all seriousness said:

“Sorry about this…can I get a Raincheck?”

A what now? My only rememberance of rainchecks was when I was little and we would go to Kmart and they would be out of some super cheap sale item, and you got a raincheck for when more stock came in. Now I was supposed to be giving out rainchecks for people who were (for whatever reasons) unable to perform when the situation arose?

Ugh, raincheck. To this day, the word still makes me shudder.

Cliches from the Coach

I grew up with a Coach for a dad. Now there are a lot of positives and a lot of negatives to that. Personally, I wouldn't trade the experience I had for the world. But one thing that has always bothered me is that my dad speaks in cliches. Constantly. To those who get to speak with him from time to time, they find it endearing or quirky. Seriously, any one who has ever met or known my Dad has loved him and I know I am lucky to be his daughter. But for me, who has sought advice or insights from him since I was a little kid, this quality irks the hell out of me sometimes. When I am having a tough time of things at work, it isn't very encouraging or inspiring for him to tell me "They don't call it work for nothin'!" I probably have a number of scars and bumps and cracks that were a result of shunning medical attention over the years and being told to "walk it off." But having heard them time and time and TIME again over the years, I know that cliches are used over and over again for a reason -- they're usually true.

You can't go home again. I find myself coming back to that one a lot lately. I think I started to understand what that meant for the first time when I went back home from college for the first time. "Home" wasn't my parents' house anymore. It was Route 1, my dorm room, and my friends at school. And some years after that, I felt that same way again going back to my college and experiencing the places and the sights and the people as an alum. Everything was the same but still....different. Because I was different. I think that everyone goes through a series of these experiences over the course of their lives, married or single, gay or straight, rich or poor. After all, isn't that what makes it a cliche?

There are ways I have physically gone back, to try and get some glimpse, some brief taste of experiences from my past. I don't know if I have done that to feel younger, or better, or safer, or what. And it is good -- for a little while it feels really nice. Just kind of warm and reassuring -- like some favorite, beat-up, old sweatshirt. I feel like a me that is younger and hasn't yet experienced hurt, or broke, or failure, or scared, or sick or one of the many other tough emotions I have personally felt in the process of growing up. For that brief little while it's kind of intoxicating. But in the end, I am left wondering, is it worth it? To just forget about or ignore who I am now to try and relive for a little while who I was then. If I am being honest, no, it probably isn't. I think if I can step away and look at it clearly I'd be able to see that it's a little self indulgent and probably pretty immature of me. The cons likely outnumber the pros.

But I have also been looking back a lot recently. Places I have been and people I have known, jobs I have had and things I have done. I have spent some time recently with people that have very much been a part of my past. But I can't say they are a part of my present. Personally, I have struggled with that one for a long time. I invested a lot of myself in friendships from college and many of those didn't pan out. Someone told me when I graduated that I'd find out quickly who my true friends were after graduation. While the process wasn't immediate, it did prove to be true over a bit of time. I hate that I grew apart from people who meant a lot to me and wish I could have meant something more to them. I know that I tried, and sometimes I wonder if it was valiant to have made the effort or if it was a total waste of time/energy/emotion. I can't answer that question, really. I am scared I might pick option B...and be right.

You can't go home again. And that's fine. Maybe the upshot in all of this looking back is when you eventually turn around and look forward, you can see how far you actually have come. Ugh, that sounds like a long winded fortune cookie message doesn't it? Damn it...maybe speaking in cliches is genetic. Thanks, Dad.