At a party the other night I was introduced to a man named John. Let’s call him John Doe. I saw him checking out me out, then his eyes gravitated to two other women one a lot younger than me, the other not so much. Even tho I hate to think of myself as just another older woman looking for a man, I couldn’t help myself. I got a little jealous so I decided to check John out. I know it’s too early to do this & I can think of no-thing more obnoxious than having to make room in my life for someone else when I haven’t yet made room for myself, but the reality is I am lonesome for the conversation and the snuggles. I have along way to go to be relaxed with Judy Gumbo.
Naturally it turned out that John wasn’t interested in me; a former food writer for the Chronicle now for a blog; he came off as self-involved and self-important. He said he had a date & left early. True? Perhaps yes, to give him the benefit of the doubt. My lesson? to introduce yourself to a strange man by talking about your two dead husbands is no turn on.
In fact, I find I can get bored talking about them. And that I use a lot of “I'”s and “me’s in my conversations. Am I the one who is too self-centered now?
Spent all day yesterday in the warm bath giant pool at Indian Springs in Calistoga. Floating on rubber yellow and green plastic noodles and lying on a white rubber floating mat splashing bathtub warm water over my body. What a relaxiing day, you’d think, right? The reality is it took all day in the warm pool with hot sun beating down, alternating with reading Martha Grimes mystery novels about writers in New York City (learned a lot about agents and the publishing game) for me to feel relaxed. An entire day floating to get not fully but at least in part to that stage of letting go I remember from when I used to float on air-wings in much colder Canadain lakes when I was a child. A whole day. I know projecting my life forward into the future spoils the calmness of the moment but I have felt many more moments of sadness than happiness this entire last week. Am I addicted to my loneliness? I go back to it again and again. I’ve gone from Woman Warrior to Woman Worrier. Fuck this shit – even if I am alone I want to enjoy myself! Except its so rare that I feel happy. Am I pushing myself too hard?