Charlie & Mae

I’ve composed multiple blog posts today. I just can’t get one finished. Not because they’re particularly bad. Just rather uninspired as I work my way through the grant and try to read papers and trudge my way through another day. There have, however, been moments of happiness.

I received email yesterday from the postdoc who coordinates the department seminars.

Katie,

I need to postpone your talk for a couple of months. We have another speaker coming in on your scheduled day. Could you let me know if that's a problem? Or if there's a particular day you'd like to speak?

Thanks!
Mae

"Oh, yay!" I said, clapping my hands and waking Chienne from her nap.

Mae,

How's it feel to be my new favorite person?! I'd love to postpone my talk! For as long as possible! I'm just so happy about this - thank you!

Katie

I laughed when she responded.

Katie,

It feels fantastic to be your new favorite person! So fantastic that you can postpone your talk for as long as you'd like. Just let me know when you're ready.

Cheers,
Mae

I informed her that I would talk at the most convenient time. Seeing as she was my new favorite person, I didn't want to complicate her life. But the two month reprieve is most welcome. I left the email in my inbox so I could continue to feel pleased about my luck in this whole situation.

I was giving myself a pedicure at around 6:30 and amidst the trimming and filing and polishing, I remembered I could call Charlie tonight. Now my fondness for Charlie has been relatively well documented. I have – from his very first comment on pictures I took in Japan – enjoyed the man. I pictured him as a rather wispy, artistic fellow. Smart, certainly, but almost frail.

I’m told my impression was mistaken. This isn’t surprising – I’m notoriously bad at matching mental pictures to actual people.

When I sent an email letting him know exactly who and where I was - not long after we began writing, I included my standard signature, which contains all of my contact information. So he’d had my number for some time. I smiled when he included his number later on, then shyly asked if we were actually going to talk on the phone. I found it strangely appealing.

I don’t really remember the first time we talked. I do remember being nervous – I’m not great on the phone. First, I don’t like long phone conversations much at all. Second, I only have a cell phone and it gets all hot being next to my face for too long. Third, when someone has read what I’ve written, I’m always afraid they’ll be disappointed when speaking to me. That I won’t have a chance to edit appropriately – make sure I don’t use the same words too often, delete most of the “so” usages, try to tell a cohesive story rather than bouncing around from topic to topic.

But Charlie? Wonderful phone voice – rather soothing. He has an easy humor and intense insight. We bonded over college sports – the very thought makes me smile. We found an easy balance on the phone – told stories and jokes and have a sort of mutual admiration. I felt natural almost immediately.

“I pictured you as frail!” I remember confessing with some dismay. I prefer men of substance, so picturing him slender and tall kept me from being attracted.

“No.” He laughed. “Not frail at all.” Which is when I flirted with the idea of having a crush on him. I think I knew my intense attraction to another man was heading nowhere good, but after Charlie mentioned his girlfriend, I settled happily into intense but friendly affection. (Almost immediately. Really.)

It comes down to this – I talk on the phone for very few people. I initiate calls with even fewer.

I call Charlie more than anyone outside my immediate family.

He listens. He offers advice that doesn’t make me irate with deeply offended wrath. He complains, then offers a bright side. He makes me laugh. In fact, after pressing end on my cell phone this evening, I realized my cheeks hurt. From smiling. I can’t recall the last time such a thing happened.

How did Charlie manage to bring me such joy? At the end of a conversation where I heard his news, marveled that I can so easily care so much about his life – be happy and exasperated and completely engrossed – then talked of therapy and grants and how I miss actual winter?

He told me about his new wireless mouse. “Freedom!” He said and I giggled. A list of features – fantastic, wondrous features – kept me laughing. The email I requested he send – with the name of such an amazing device that will bring me untold happiness if I obtain it – made that happiness return.

“What about Charlie?” A friend asked many months ago when I first mentioned him. But high on infatuation with another, I remember shaking my head. “He has a girlfriend, first of all. And… I don’t know. He’s so good. Too functional and stable and strong. I’m all moody and dramatic. I couldn’t inflict myself – in a romantic sense – on dear Charlie. Plus, I want to keep him. And history indicates I get to keep friends much longer than crushes.”

I am glad he has someone to love him – I don’t flutter over him as I would a crush. Rather I adore him as I do only my closest friends.

“Have you talked to Charlie?” Mom asked when I was doing particularly badly a few months ago. It confused me that she would trust someone I met through my little blog when the same type of meeting had just ended so badly. That's OK though - I trust Charlie too.

“I have.” I told her. “He helped.”

“Are you sure you can’t love Charlie?” M asked recently.

“I do love Charlie.” I told her. “But I don’t think I’m ready for a Charlie. I think once you find a Charlie, you hold on to him. Try to make him happy. And… I’m trying to figure out how to be happy myself right now. Grow up a bit. Figure myself out. Then I hope I find my own Charlie. But I’m keeping the Charlie. I’ll send a gift when he gets married and be sincerely happy for him. I look forward to hearing stories about his trips. I love that he’s so good at his job. Charlie’s my friend.”

“Damn it.” She muttered and I laughed.

But honestly. Would I turn down the chance to hear about how very much I need a new mouse? A wireless wonder of ergonomic magnificence? Even in my sorriest state, I wouldn’t miss the chance to laugh until my cheeks hurt from smiling.

Which indicates to me that my current state isn’t so sorry after all. So I'm settling into gratitude for people who make me happy and contentment that I'm able to allow the happiness to linger. Not a bad blog entry at all.