Catch-22

As a relatively new single person, I started thinking about what I wanted out of my love life. The first question was "do I even want a love life?" Hmm, I'm not sure. I have good friends and even some very special friends whose company I particularly enjoy. Am I happy with that set up, or do I want that one special someone? Truth is, I have no idea.

At my age, new relationships are different. I remember when I was younger, during the brief times that I actually did date, there was that excitement about meeting someone that you just clicked with. Nowdays, not so much. Oh sure, you still get excited about clicking with someone, but it doesn't stop there.

Now when I meet someone who seems great, I wonder what the hell is wrong with them. What is HE going to do that will bug the shit out of me after a while? If he's so great, why hasn't he been snatched up yet? Why have all his relationships up until now fell apart? Why does he seem so perfect? Surely, something HAS to be wrong with him.

Don't get me wrong, I know I'm not perfect. In fact, I've been known to tell men to run the other way from me. I have abandonment issues, I'm suspicious of drug use, and I readily look for something "just not right" in other people (see last paragraph) so I can prove that I'm right about them being wrong. Trust me, I get it. But I'm upfront about my problems and I don't keep anything a secret. Of all the men I've told to run the other way, only one actually has.

And therein lies the problem. In one of my older blogs, I commented that at my age, you live with what remains of your love life between the ages of 18-35. And when I say remains, I mean it. Gone are hopes of a long happy life together. Gone is the desire to please someone else, just to watch it fall apart. I've had very few big relationships in my life; the first ending in his death, the second ending in his drug addiction, the third just ending unresolved. Those are things that individually can fuck up a person's psyche. To have all three happen has been almost catastrophic for me. To put the nail in my love coffin, none of these things had anything to do with anything that I'd done. Even still, any new relationships are sure to be affected by them.

So what do I do with this Catch-22? Try to be optimistic that there is someone out there with whom I'll share my life? Or just accept the fact that nobody deserves my baggage? Even if I'm a good person inside, I'm not a good relationship prospect and I know that. And what can you do with knowledge like that?

Prize Inside

A few months ago, I received a message on one of those social networking sites. It was from the brother of a guy with whom I'd gone to high school 30 years ago. That's right, 30 years ago. I had rigged my profile shortly before that, so that when you did a search on my maiden name, I would come up. Apparently, his brother did that search, saw me, and immediately called said guy, who is now an executive chef, and told him not only did he find me on this social networking site, but we also lived in the same city.

I grew up in the midwest, living there until I was 14. It was during this time that I knew the Chef. We met in high school during sophomore year. Once that school year ended, my family then moved to Los Angeles, where I truly grew up, graduated school, got married, had kids. So how unusual was it that he and I now lived in Pittsburgh? The Chef's brother then messaged me again, gave me Chef's phone number and told me to call any time.

I had always rued the fact that I didn't know anyone from my days growing up in the midwest anymore. Even some of my cousins and other family members are complete strangers to me. I called the Chef and we chatted and made plans to get together. I remember him from back then, and he was one of the cute boys in high school, but we didn't date or anything like that. After all, I was only 14 back then! He joined the networking site and I then got to see pictures of him too. He doesn't look the same to me, but folks, it's been 30 years. Who would?

We made plans to get together today and although we've both said we can't wait to catch up, I'm worried that this looks alot like a date. A blind date. Oh sure, we knew each other 30 years ago, but we don't really know each other anymore. Not to mention, we're both single now. We talked about dinner and drinks. He mentioned a party being thrown by a friend of his. These are all date-type activities, people.

I don't know how things are going to go. I'm hoping that I made a new friend, who just happens to be an executive chef. And that, dear readers, is what they call a bonus prize.