Saturday's Aftermath...

OK, I tried again, I went out on a date last night. Why, I keep asking myself, do I keep thinking things will EVER change? The guy [oh... and yeah, I'm gay just so you won't wonder](I won't mention his name because it doesn't matter but we'll call him "Mr. X") was someone I've been corresponding with online for several weeks. We exchanged photos early on so that bridge had already been crossed. In our phone conversations he came across as cute but DEFINITELY his age (30). I'm 42 and I usually make it a rule to not go out with anyone that much younger than myself but I decided to go out since I've been isolating so much. We went to a movie (Spiderman 3). Granted, I know movies aren't the best venue for first dates but this turned out to be a recipe for disaster.

First, we were supposed to meet for the 7 p.m. showing but he arrived at my place to pick me up at 5.30. I hadn't even showered yet so he had to wait on me. After I was finally 'presentable', I suggested we go to Starbucks as a chance to get to know each other a bit before the movie. I wish I had a dollar for the number of times he had to comment on the 'hot' guys he kept spotting. (Am I old-fashioned in expecting my date to pay attention to me?) Well, we get to Starbucks and they're already closed for the evening (This is downtown LA, after all...) So, the theater became our destination. As we stood in line waiting for the auditorium to open his body language and lack of conversation made it entirely obvious that he was less than thrilled about his company for the evening.

After a rather lengthy movie (during which he constantly commented on how 'hot' certain men in the movie were) we walked to the car in relative silence. The closer we got to the parking garage, the angrier I got with myself for having expected to go out with a man and have him find me interesting and/or fun (or, 'hot', even).

Needless to say, there was no goodnight kiss or hug (or handshake, even). ["Gee," I find myself wondering "am I *that* repulsive?"] Evidently, I am.

So, I spent the day trying not to obsess over Saturday night's failure. I watched "Running With Scissors" and HIGHLY recommend it to those who thought their childhood was weird. I thought mine was dysfunctional but kudos for Augusten Burroughs surviving that nightmare. If he can live through what he lived thru and turned out relatively happy maybe I can live through all of this and somehow find some happiness.

After last night, that's kind of a positive turn of thoughts, eh? Life's funny that way. The lessons come in strange forms and in unexpected ways.