This morning I’m standing in the bathroom looking at a can of shaving cream on the counter while I’m brushing my teeth. That can of shaving cream gets me thinking that even the most loyal of my readers are going to stop visiting me here if I don’t start writing again.
It’s no secret I get distracted. I should probably come clean and say it’s likely more a case of being self-absorbed. Because when you can’t see beyond the end of your nose, you stop paying attention to what’s going on around you. And that’s the death knell for your writing if what you write about is the world that goes on around you.
The current self absorption, indicated by that can of shaving cream, isn’t a bad thing at all. However, unlike my luminous blogger friend PENolan, I lack forthrightness that could enrich my own stories, even behind this veil of faceless internetdom. That missing candour is the thing that will always keep me a few steps outside the realm of GOOD memoir; but I carry on.
One thing PE and I do share is recent adventures in online dating. Me, I’ve called 2011 "The Year of Dating Fearlessly.” I wasn’t afraid exactly – though dating at my age is not for the faint of heart. PE blogs openly and humorously about her dating adventures; I do not. Maybe I should. Maybe if I’d written about it more I’d have learned how to do it better.
PE may or may not have told her dates about her blog, but I always did – it always came up. My obsession with personal stories is part of who I am; it forms how I see. And pointing a bloke to my blog is a quick way for him to understand me in an initial sort of way. So I didn’t feel free to write about the fellas that came in and out of my life, even though most of them weren’t much interested in reading the thing anyway and would probably never know.
I ventured into the Year of Dating Fearlessly with purpose last December because over time it got so much easier to not date at all because of the chances of really finding a connection with someone seemed more and more minimal as the years passed. I don’t mind my own company; I’d rather be alone with me than be with someone simply for the sake of not being alone. Being alone was never my preferred state though, and so around this time last year I determined I’d gotten too sensitive about all the dating failures and that sensitivity had turned into complacence. I was about to turn fifty; the chances of staying complacent for the rest of my life were probably increasing with every day.
Outside of complacency is my dislike of first dates. Some people think bad first dates are inevitable, and you just need to move on to the second date or even the third in order to really know if you click. The Year of Dating Fearlessly was about me soldiering on through as many bad first dates as it took to get to some good ones. And there were some pretty good ones, as well as some really bad ones and all manner in between.
If I learned anything in the Year of Dating Fearlessly it was something that I really knew since I was a teenager: my judgement is pretty good. If the first date isn’t good, then the second one isn’t likely to be so either. What a good first date comes down to is talking. Not just talking – communicating. Communicating is what gets you to a good second date.
What a good first date with lots of communicating comes down to is chemistry. I believe in chemistry – I’ve had it in the past and I want it. It’s more than shared interests that instigates communicating. If all the atoms are jumping in the same direction then there’s a mutual WANT to share and WANT to know and that’s what makes one conversation lead to three others in the space of a half an hour.
And it’s all those atoms jumping in the same direction that issue that YES suddenly discovered in what starts as a polite little hug and turns into an electrical current that stops time for a moment.
So where does all the PE style candour come in? More forthrightly, when does a new person become a bloggable member of your world?
It might start when he leaves things like, say, shaving cream in your bathroom because he knows he’ll be around needing it again soon, and suddenly, bad first dates are the furthest thing from your mind.
It's occurred to me since I wrote that last post that I broke a couple of cardinal blogger rules. Therefore, so that I might complete what I didn't finsh last time out, that "Gal" telling us why we should find beauty in her weekly Hippie News Activism broadcast is P.E. of Menopausal Stoners who has resided in my blogroll for a long time. Do visit her – she is mountains more than a great blog title.
And, Selma, you DO have Hippie News. We all do; it's an online news source found at Worldwide Hippies. Choose your news, that's what I say.
And you guys, if you're getting a double trackback, forgive me. But I doubt it, I probably forgot that too.
How much do I LOVE this gal? She's has to be the smartest, most insightful, ascerbic, funny and talented writer I know. Slide the video ahead to 5:38 or so and you'll see her in all her marvellousness.
(THEN – after you've enjoyed Tricia extolling the value of finding beauty, wind back and enjoy Hippie News. Hippie News rocks.)
Tricia and Winston and all the folks at Hippie News – beautiful thing number 60.