"I know," Jane said sympathetically as I made a face at her. We were standing outside in the growing-miserably-hot morning and she held my camera while I fluffed my hair and squared my shoulders to have my picture taken. "It's just awkward," I protested and she nodded again, but kept pronouncing me cute after each click of the button captured an image. "That's fine," I declared after three were taken. "I'll pick from those." But I knew it'd be a painful process. I look at photos of myself and see nothing but flaws. Yet I've watched people do the same of self-portraits with bemusement. That's how you look - the camera isn't doing anything evil to you. So people who are used to looking at me would say a photo is fine. I - who rarely look at myself - think it's filled with problems.
"Well," I later said philosophically as I snapped my cell phone closed, "that was hardly magical." I had answered Jon's first call while I was partially clothed in a Kohl's dressing room. "My meager wardrobe is feeling strained," I told him after I made my way to the car and called him back. As expected, I was a bit awkward and flustered - I do not do well on phone calls in general. So there was no sparkling wit or gentle charm or stunning brilliance from me. So I drove past my new house, letting the sight of it cheer me up, and proceeded back toward the hotel after a few minutes of staring at where I'll eventually live.
"Oops," I said mildly when I realized I wasn't going to be able to turn. I thought I should go left, but when I arrived at the corner, I realized I needed to head right. Being in the far left lane - and not wanting to spend the remainder of my afternoon in a firey car crash - I decided to go left. I fixed my mistake by turning into an old, tired shopping mall. I was driving through, curiously looking at the store fronts and signs when I saw a day spa - an Aveda day spa - and immediately found a place to leave my car while I pranced inside. I return for a pedicure in about an hour.
"Thirty minutes or an hour?" The receptionist asked of the duration of my treatment and I replied the latter sounded better. Perhaps if my feet are pretty, I'll derive some odd sense of confidence from that.
"Can I tell you something?" I asked Jon when we talked one last time on his way home from work. "I'm worried that you'll be disappointed."
"Don't be," he replied immediately in a voice I had instantly liked. I frowned when I realized he - chronically younger than me - seemed more confident and mature.
"No," I insisted, "but I am. I really don't want to disappoint you. I've met other people who read my blog and not all of them got what they expected."
"I'm not like other people," he offered and I agreed. I'm stuck with knowing he is unique and spectacular. And while I'm hopeful and it would be lovely if everything went well, I also know I've not been good at this in the past. Maybe I was trying with the wrong men - perhaps I was waiting for this one - or maybe I'm just doomed in romance.
But I remain more eager than nervous. I'm looking forward to meeting him regardless of the outcome. So instead of this crisis of confidence, I'm going to focus on pretty toes. And we'll see where it goes from there.
5 comments:
I think you are worrying too much. Or rather that you are afraid that if you're not perfect, then he will turn his back to you. Of course he won't! (And if he does, well, he's got his share of problems for sure.) It's normal to feel like you could be so much more charming / witty rather, and that you are making a dull impression, but it's probably not nearly as bad as what you think. Of course all that is easy to say (and I would probably react much the same way as you do)...
And I totally understand the "not doing well on phone calls" thing. Most people look like being on the phone is the most natural thing in the world, but it is not! (I have to add that the language barrier is harder to overcome on the phone, but even in French I'm all awkward.)
Oh, and one last thing: you come across as pretty unique and spectacular yourself! People might have been disappointed in the past but maybe their expectations were too high (let's be realistic: your blog cannot be an accurate reflexion of the entirety of your self). And you might be disappointed in Jon, too, come to think of it ;-)
Think of it as two people meeting to become friends, and if more happens, then there you go. Try not to put too many expectations onto this meeting! (Easier said than done, I realize.)
Something I don't understand: He reads your blog? Did you give him access to it? Did you meet him through it? I'm confused!
Very nice about the hour pedicure!
I think Brightstar's advice is right on point. Try not to put too much pressure on this meeting.
I need pretty toes, no time for a pedicure this week but maybe early next week.
It's not about whether he likes you enough - think of it that it's whether you like HIM enough. He should be nervous too, he's meeting a great woman!
I'm glad you can relate to this weird dating after college/quasi-blind-date thing... it's so bizarre and weird, but intellectually it seems so logical... until you're about to puke your guts out in the parking lot and wondering why you agreed to do this in the first place. And then calling a BFF to have them give you "the pep talk."
And as my BFF reminded me last night, if nothing else you get great story material and everyone finds stories about blind dates hilarious. Including you (even if it does take a little more time to get to that point)! Good luck! :o)
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