Posted by: Tricia | Thursday, June 7, 2007

The phone call

Oh, I’m in such a bizarre mood right now. I’ve been cleaning some house this morning. I got so sick of looking at the crap all over my carpet…and it’s been less than a week since I vacuumed downstairs. Remember, though, I did a hurried job before the IH came over. So I redid it this morning the right way. I also got out the Spot Shot (a wonder from heaven) and cleaned up fresh cat puke stains, along with some older, unidentified stains that I got tired of noticing. Then I vacuumed the stairs. Fun job. But they had definitely gotten to a point that it felt really, REALLY good to vacuum them. I noticed, though, that quite a bit of cat hair remained behind, no matter how hard or how many times I vacuumed the same area. Argh. After getting the stairs done, I want to get the sofas swiped with the vacuum, but decided to take a break and come sit over here and blog.

I’ve got my iPod on, because the IB’s off in dreamland, so I have a good couple of hours that I don’t have to worry about listening for him. Question: When you put your iPod on ‘shuffle,’ why is it that it plays two songs in a row by the same artist? That spoils the fun for me. Well, half the fun. Because when I hear a song by a different artist than the one before, the curiosity and excitement of finding out what song comes next is greatly diminished. I’m just saying…

Well, I’ve been in contact with The Guy this week. Yay! He told me during the reception that he wasn’t really into email. Oh gawd. Really? What century were you teleported from? It is my preferred method of communication, especially in a nerve-wracking situation like beginning communication with a potential love interest. I’m not good on the fly…coming up with great things to say on the spot, etc. I’m good at sitting down face-to-face with my computer screen rather than this new, very cute, wanna-see-what-it-tastes-like face. I like to ponder my words before I relay them to said face, making sure I like the way they’ll come across. At least how I think they’ll come across. So anyway….he went to the trouble of sending me an email. I found that very sweet. It had absolutely no formatting, horrible punctuation, and typo’s out the wazoo. Which doesn’t really say anything to me about him…just about the school system he went through that he could come out of it not knowing any better how to manipulate the written word. I guess that’s where I’m thankful to my mom & dad for putting me through a private school through the sixth grade. I can spell. I can correctly format a large amount of text. And I have been oh-so-blessed with the ability to proofread as I go. For the most part, anyway. Sometimes my mind doesn’t register what my eyes see and things get by me. Hopefully, though I’ll catch it in my read-through before sending or posting. But I digress….

So I spent almost two hours writing my reply to him. I didn’t find his email until after 11:00 PM, and my reply was finally sent at 1:14 AM. Geesh. I almost sent him this email spilling my guts, laying my heart and soul all out on the line, and decided he’d probably run screaming from his computer if I sent that. So I deleted about three paragraphs, and rewrote the basic sentiment in one:

“So like I said, I really enjoyed meeting you too the other night!
I’d like to keep it going, but I hope you understand that my world has been
completely turned upside down by the man I thought I could count on for the
rest of my life. I’m finally getting to a place where I’m finding my
own way through this crazy life, and it’s terrifying and exciting all at the
same time! But yeah…I am a little curious to see what might
happen. I’m up for us continuing to get to know each other, and
however it might turn out, hopefully we’ll at least be able to
count each other as friends and learn something from each other in the
process. Just be patient with me, OK?”

I obsessively checked my email the next day for a reply, even though I knew he was more than likely at work. So evening rolled around, and my obsessive inbox-checking escalated. Nothing. I start thinking, “Oh boy, what if that chilled-out paragraph still freaked him out?” I ended up deciding that it’s no biggy if it did…nothing really invested in this yet, anyway.

So then last night, I’m getting the IB all lotioned up after his bathy (yes, his bathy. He’s nine months old, OK? I call it a bathy.), and the RK shouts up the stairs, “MOOOMMMMMM!!!! Your phone’s ringing!!!” So I scream back, “OK! I can’t answer it now, so just let it go!” “OOOOOOKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!” is the reply. I get the IB all ready for bed, read him Goodnight Moon, and put him to bed. And bound down the stairs to see who called. Could it be? Naw….it couldn’t. Maybe? So I check. Yup! My phone says,

“1 missed call
7:26 PM
The Guy.”

(Yes, I’d already programmed his number into my phone.)
So I listen to his voicemail, and he was wondering if I got his email. Hmm…so I call him back, and get his voicemail box. I let him know that I had sent him a reply, and to call me back. He called back, and I get to hear his voice for the first time since I met him. Well, besides the voicemail I’d just listened to. We chatted for about 20 minutes. About nothing good. I told him about getting the lawn mowed, fertilized, and watered earlier in the day (yes I did…such a great accomplished feeling), we talked a little about our kids, blah, blah, blah. And there were a couple of seconds of awkward ‘what do we talk about now?’ instances. For a first phone call, I guess you can’t expect much more than that. Let’s just hope our conversation skills with each other improve as we go. I know I was trying to be very cautious about what I talked about. I know how I can be on the phone, and I definitely didn’t want to go there with him.
I find myself wanting to talk with him face to face now. Interesting. It’s just that I feel like the things I need to know about him can only be said in person. Arranging this will be hard to work, though, because I don’t want him meeting my kids until I know he’s gonna be around for a while. Thank God for my awesome neighbors. I might have to go into favor-debt and ask them to babysit sometime soon.
Anyway, I’m formulating so many preliminary questions I want to ask him.
  • “What is your family like?” (Because if he came from a very dysfunctional family, that raises issues with me.)
  • “What’s your favorite movie of all time?”
  • “Who’s your favorite music artist?” (These two questions will tell me a lot about him.)
  • Along the same lines: “Do you like country music?” (He better. Another big issue with this Texas girl.)
  • “What are your goals in life?” (He better have some…again…a big issue for me.)
  • “Why didn’t you ever marry the mother of your kids?” (Not to be asked judgementally….this one I’m gonna hold off on asking for quite a while; it doesn’t exactly fall in the category of ‘preliminary.’ But I’m already wondering.)
  • “Do you like Mexican food?” (Spicy….that’d be cool if he does.)

This list includes, but is not limited to these questions.

The fact that my life is faced with the potential of being happy with someone puts me in such a funk. I haven’t been happy with someone else in such a long time. Well, come to think of it, I’ve never been completely, comfortably, full-circle happy with a guy EVER.

I want someone who wants to climb down deep into my soul to find out what’s in there. Heck, I want someone who can actually grasp the concept that my soul runs very, very deep. But then he must have the courage to explore it as well.
And he must let me explore his.
And let me set this straight: This is a non-negotiable prerequisite before he is allowed to explore my body. That’s the rule. Soul first, then body.
I want someone who will let me collapse in his arms just because. And let me stay there as long as I want or need.
I want someone who will try to appreciate why I’m passionate about something, even though he isn’t. Or isn’t yet.
I want someone to need me just as much as I need him. And he’s not afraid to say so.
I want someone who’s strong enough to do the right thing, even if it’s harder than anything he’s ever had to do before. Oh….integrity is such a big one. Huge.

So could this be him? I wonder. I know so little about him. I hope that changes over the days and weeks ahead. I hope we have plenty of opportunities to start learning about who the other is. My heart is taking off with the possibilities of this, but my head’s keeping it real for me. I’ve grown up so much since I was ‘dating.’ I’m not letting my hopes get up too high. While I’m excited for this possibility, I’m not going to run with it just because it presented itself. But just the fact that it has presented itself has me a little giddy.

It feels so good to know someone thinks I’m attractive. That there’s someone out there thinking of me in a positive way. Someone who’s looking forward to spending time with me. It’s been a long, LONG time since there’s been someone like that in my life.

I so hope this has legs. At least for a while.



  1. Hey I’m not sure where I came from, but I landed here and hope things work out well for you. I went through some single parent angst before getting remarried, its not easy. I was afraid to settle, afriad also to parade men in and out of my daughter’s life. I was confused, and at the same time felt free to learn from the past.

    Hope it works out for you!

  2. Ok, this is the last time I’ll respond and I’ll leave you alone in your pink bubble.
    Again, with the I’m-better-than-you crap. To be exact,

    It had absolutely no formatting, horrible punctuation, and typo’s out the wazoo. Which doesn’t really say anything to me about him…just about the school system he went through that he could come out of it not knowing any better how to manipulate the written word. I guess that’s where I’m thankful to my mom & dad for putting me through a private school through the sixth grade. I can spell. I can correctly format a large amount of text. And I have been oh-so-blessed with the ability to proofread as I go.

    I suspect you have illusions of grandeur about who you are. I hate to tell you this, you’re no better than anyone else.

  3. I really don’t know where you’re getting the idea that I think I’m better than anyone else. But yeah, when it comes to writing, I’m way better at it than he is. But does that mean I don’t still want to get to know him? Hell no! In fact, I’m eager to learn about all the things at which he can run circles around me.

    And do you not get that I actually spelled it out how it didn’t make me judge him in any way, but just the school systems’ continually declining standards? And I was just expressing my gratitude to my parents, and their finanial capability to send me to a school with a higher standard of excellence than the public school system. But from 7th grade through graduation, I went through public schools, and absolutely loved it.

    Face it…writing, grammar and spelling is one of my strong points. That doesn’t make me better than anyone else as a whole.

    I suck at math, by the way. I had to re-take algebra in summer school, I was so bad at it. I got the hammer dropped on me more than once when the ‘no pass no play’ rule got slammed on my ass.

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