Monday, November 13, 2006

Will someone ever like-like me?

I had a really nice weekend. Let that be said before I start to rant. Got to see three great friends (one new, one medium new and one certified classic). The rain held off for much of Sunday. I mulled cider. I made pasta sauce. There were no dishes left over in my sink come Monday morning. I got to read aloud, which is fun and doesn't happen very often (I should've just been a librarian; that would've probably cured me of this desire). K. and I had an autumn-in-New-York moment on Irving Place. (Castles in Spain need not apply.) We finally ate/drank at Wine Bar attached to Vintage New York in Soho (wine: thumbs up; food: bland and not all that exciting). I went back to Old Navy and got what was coming to me (my full 20% discount). H. and I had yummy omelets (asparagus, swiss and salmon) at Viceroy in Chelsea. I started a new book by my new favorite author, Alain de Botton (thank you, public radio). Oh, yeah, I forgot to rant. Well, maybe things aren't as bad as I was going to make them out to be. I started this entry planning on complaining about how frustrated I've been with dating recently. And I have been. But I guess my reluctant optimism somehow managed to get in the middle, and instead I've ticked off some happy memories, even if at the end of the day I don't have anyone to dream about marrying and having kids with, like I wish I did sometimes. People used to make fun of me at work because I'd say how much I wanted to be married. And if I ever do get married, I'll probably look back on these feelings and laugh at how anxious I was to move onto the next stage of life. But I can't help feeling like lots of people have started their adult lives with someone they love, and I'm stuck in this protracted teenager-hood, where I'm doomed to have one person after another tell me they like me, but don't like-like me. Well, see, I did manage a little bit of rant, although I did it in the wrong order, no? I guess I was supposed to begin with the frustrations of being lonely, and then move onto the counting-the-blessings part. [Redacted] ... constant chatter about the theater world makes me go and do things like buy a full-priced ticket to Tom Stoppard's The Coast of Utopia: Voyage, which -- if I like it -- will no doubt make it harder for me to resist seeing parts II and III of this new epic. I probably shouldn't even be writing this, as my ticket reservation hasn't yet been confirmed, and I might not even get a seat, according to the automated e-mail I just got. We'll see. That said: This seems like the perfect time to remind myself of the mantra of the New York theatergoer with limited means or time: "You'll never be able to see everything. Neither will most other people."


Anonymous said...

How do you know when someone just "likes" you or really "likes...likes" you? Miscommunication and misinterpretations happen all the time...and these innocent mistakes are committed by over analytical individuals on a regular basis. May I suggest a little more persistence and patience? Don't judge too quickly and don't give up on the possibility of making great friends that could even turn into more.

Anonymous said...

Well that's a lot of pressure. I really hope you like the show.

Jeremy said...

I think what I mean, anonymous, is that people actually tell me these things, not in so many words, but in similar ones.