What I Meant to Say Was

I’ve been thinking a lot about communication lately.  I have noticed a few things about myself as I’ve experienced life and grown a little older.  I suspect I am a naturally poor communicator most of the time, and saying what I actually mean can be really difficult.  [Incidentally, I am also not the person you want riding shotgun if you need a navigator; I have the worst timing.  We will miss the exit at least once.]

I know I’m not alone in the realm of poor communication.  Observation of others has helped me think a bit more about how clearly (or not) I communicate.  I was always taught that communication is three parts:  the transmitter, the message, and the receiver.  I wonder sometimes if it isn’t four:  The transmitter, the intended message, the receiver, and the actual message.

I am fascinated when I observe two separate conversations between people at the same time, and I wonder how often it happens to me.

Recently, my friend’s son had surgery, and I was at the hospital with her.  It was a long, stressful day [several days, really, but this was the first day].  After surgery, when he was finally settled into his room in the PICU, she and I decided to grab a bite to eat.  Already tired of the smell of antiseptic, and knowing we had a few more days in front of us, we decided to leave the hospital campus to get a late lunch at an outdoor cafe.  During lunch, she checked her phone and saw that in the she’d missed a call from the hospital.  Concerned that something was wrong, she excused herself to return the call.  After four or five transfers, the PICU nurse who originally placed the call picked up:

  • Friend:  This is Zordona the Magnificent*, mother of Prince Jacobin of Asteroth.  Someone just called me, is everything okay?
  • Nurse:  Yes, I was just calling to let you know that Lord Asteroth is a little fussy, and didn’t know if you wanted him to have a bottle.
  • Friend (confused):  Yes, of course.  Do you need me to come back right away, or do I have time to finish lunch?
  • Nurse:  No, no, you have a few minutes.
  • Friend:  Okay, I’ll be there soon.

*Names have been slightly altered

I thought about what I heard, and wondered if the little guy was going to get fed, or if he’d still be waiting for his mom to return.  After she hung up, we talked about the conversation.  She expected that a phone call from the hospital would be some sort of urgent news, emergency, or complication.  Of course, we were both relieved that it wasn’t.   She was a bit flummoxed that the nursing staff would phone her to get permission to feed her child.  I mentioned that the nursing staff had probably assumed we were in the hospital cafeteria, since we didn’t tell them differently, and were probably just courtesy calling to see if she wanted them to wait so she could feed him herself.

From my perspective, it seemed like two very different conversations happened simultaneously, and lent themselves to a bit of confusion on both sides.

Conversation 1 [My Friend’s Perspective]:

  • Nurse:  His Royal Highness is fussy.  And probably hungry. Do you want him fed?
  • Friend:  Of course I want him fed!  Just to clarify again:  He is alive, right?  Is my immediate physical presence required to ensure he remains so?
  • Nurse:  Yes, he’s alive.  No, you don’t have to be here.  I just wanted to tell you he was hungry.  And fussy.
  • Friend: OMGosh!  I’m so relieved to hear he’s alive!  I nearly had a heart attack when I saw you called so I’ll be there soon and probably never leave his side again.

Takeaway:  Did that nurse really just call me to ask if it was okay to feed a hungry baby?

Conversation 2 [The Nurse’s Perspective]:

  • Friend:  You rang?
  • Nurse:  Your baby is hungry.  Do you want me to give him a bottle or would you prefer to do it yourself when you come back upstairs?
  • Friend:  Yes.  Do I need to return immediately?
  • Nurse:  Well, he’s definitely hungry, but I’m sure he’ll survive until you return.
  • Friend:  I’ll be right there.

Takeaway:  I wonder if I should feed him, or wait until she gets back from the cafeteria.

I’m not exactly sure when I started my quest to use words more deliberately and accurately.  I think it probably started in Writing 1010 (during my second attempt at college).   That’s when my grad student instructor pointed out [to me specifically] that, while it is a useful tool, a thesaurus is not always the best resource for word selection.  Similar meanings are not identical meanings.  I use the dictionary a lot more frequently now.

About a year and half ago, I started trying to drop the word “should” from my vocabulary.  Mostly I was guilty of “shoulding” on myself, which wasn’t actually helpful or kind and didn’t make me feel motivated to do better.  It just made me feel guilty for everything I wasn’t doing, or everything I was doing wrong.  I started catching myself “shoulding” on others… usually when I was dispensing unsolicited advice.  The reality is that I have no idea what someone else should or shouldn’t do most of the time.  And that word is just full of judgment, so no one ever feels good when they’ve been should on.  Now I usually only use it when I am encouraging someone to follow through with an idea (mine or theirs), and it’s usually spoken with great excitement,  “OMGoodness!  We should totally do that!”**

**Please note, if I am that enthusiastic about something, it probably isn’t actually a great idea; please don’t ever trust my judgment.  Ever.  Really.

I had a conversation with a friend one day about my avoidance of the word “should” and she told me that she had a list of ten words on her fridge to avoid.  I don’t recall what all of them were, but included among them – in addition to should – is the word “need.”  I thought that was a little odd at first, and wondered what was wrong with it.  But I started paying closer attention to when I use the word need (and how often), and how inaccurate it usually is.  There really are few things I need on a daily basis.  I need food.  I do not need to go to Lowe’s to buy more project components.  It would be helpful/nice/beneficial/expensive to go to Lowe’s to buy components.  Heck, most of the time I don’t even need to go to the grocery store; there’s almost always something in my cupboard, and if I hadn’t given up cooking for Lent, I could probably whip something up.  Like should, need also tends to induce a sense of guilt for things one does [or does not accomplish].

There.  That’s done.  Now maybe my inner monologue will quit saying, “You need to write a blog post.  You should be ashamed of yourself for how long it’s been.”

Also… sorry if this post was long and boring.  Sometimes I am just exorcising thought demons.  Here is a picture of a stuffed whale to break up the monotony:

Toy Whale



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J3dgarh00v3r is My Brother

Happy New Year 2015, Everyone!

Once upon a time I dreamed of writing a massively clever blog post that would go viral and I would gain thousands of followers overnight and advertisers would throw money at me just for the pleasure of reading my thoughts.

And then I woke up one day and made my bed:

TARDIS Murphy Bed

Apparently my TARDIS bed is more popular than I am.  I have no problem with that.  It has a better personality, and looks good right when I wake up (okay, it looks good all the time).  As far as I’m concerned, it can have as many 15-minute increments of fame that it wants.  I am secure in the knowledge that it will still come home to me every night.

Just before Christmas, The Bloggess retweeted a link to my blog, and the next thing I knew, my website stats started climbing.  When I first cleared 1,000 views in a single 24-hour period, I started to get a little anxious.  What if all these people actually decided to stick around and follow my blog for a while?  How disappointed would they be in the rest of the content?  Fortunately, there were only about three days of retweets, Facebook shares, and new visitors before life here at The Stubby Thumb returned to normal.

A couple of days ago, I logged onto TST in order to resume normal operations (I have a first date recap that isn’t going to write itself), and noticed 16 comments awaiting moderation.  I figured my spam filter wasn’t working properly, and planned to check the settings.  Of course, I got distracted, and moved on to other things instead.

The next morning, I awoke to find I’d been tagged by a friend in a post on Facebook, informing me that my TARDIS had been featured on i09.  Um, what?!  It turns out those 16 new comments were legitimate.  Oops.  Apparently, TST was getting a second wind.

Tardis Murphy Bed Interior

I cannot even begin to explain how surreal this whole experience is.  I keep seeing pictures of my guest bedroom popping up all over the interweb.  Strangely, I’m a lot more comfortable knowing that most of the traffic is going to the other websites instead of directly to The Stubby Thumb.

I’ve been reading most of the comments, and a lot of the same questions/statements keep popping up:

  • Yes, the lantern does light up (at night), at least in theory.  It’s a solar-powered lamp.  It’s having issues holding a charge right now, though, so I am going to have to sonic it or something.
  • The TARDIS is a queen-size bed; I believe it’s the largest size available.  To my knowledge, nobody makes a king-size Murphy.  That’s a lot of weight to try to anchor securely into a wall.  I’ve seen a lot of people saying they need a larger one.  I am guessing most are thinking this is a single/twin.  Someone asked if they make a double… I think that’s what we typically call a full-size, and yes, there is a kit available for that, too.
  • I know.  I know.  The back wall.  It needs some love.  It will get some.  I promise.  Someday.  I have an idea that’s so crazy it just might work.
  • No, it does not make the TARDIS swoosh sound when it opens/closes, and I currently have no plans to make it so (not that I’m opposed to it; I just have a gazillion other projects/ideas that will likely come first).
  •  Yes, there is a switch that makes it go tonto (it also controls the lights), though I’ve never actually tested it.
  • I bought the throw pillows six years ago when I bought my couch.  They matched the then-blue accent wall I painted (it’s a deep red now).  They happen to also resemble some iterations of the TARDIS interior.
  • For those looking to “wife” me… I still have 33 First Date openings available.

Oh, and apparently someone’s “friend Mark built this exact bed five years ago…” which is weird because I distinctly remember handling the raw materials.  The only logical explanation is that at some point in my future, I must travel back to 2010, disassemble the TARDIS, and give it to Mark.  How I get back to my own timeline after that is anyone’s guess.

But seriously, now that the bed is finished, I have discovered other TARDIS Murphy beds scattered throughout time and space.  They are all unique and all freaking amazing… because obviously.

And finally… My younger brother, who is not yet a Whovian [but give me time, space, street maps of Florida, 12 jammie dodgers, and a fez, and he soon will be], shared one of the TARDIS posts on his Imgur account (whatever that is) and was apparently challenged to prove that I’m his sister.

Challenge:  Accepted.

MajicGamer… this serves as your proof.  Let me know if you require anything further.

Proof of Life
Proof of Life – J3dgarh00v3r is my brother

Oh, and thanks for all the love and really supportive comments about the bed!  Whovians are the best people.

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Finally! My Guest Room is Bigger on the Inside!

Welcome random hitchhikers from the Internets!  I guess if you build it [and @thebloggess tweets it], they will come.  Come for the epic TARDIS Murphy bed, stay for the shenanigans!

I’ve had a very special project at my house this fall.  My guest bedroom gets frequent use; rarely a week goes by that I don’t have at least one overnight guest.  But even with that many guests, the majority of the time, it sits unused (except for the dogs when they go to sleep at night, or run away to avoid their Frontline treatment).  Until recently, a queen-sized bed, night tables, and two dog “houses” took up the majority of usable space, and there wasn’t much left for my hobbies (or anything else for that matter).  Since I only have a two-bedroom home, space is at a premium, and I try to maximize its use every chance I get.

I meant to take a "Before" picture... but somehow I forgot, so this will have to do.
I meant to take a “Before” picture… but somehow I forgot, so this will have to do.

Enter the Murphy bed.

Murphy beds are pretty spectacular.  They are also spectacularly expensive.  I looked around, and the best price I found on a bare bones Murphy was $1899.  I don’t know about you, but I have way more ways to spend money on any given day than I have money to spend.  So I decided to look into what it might take to build my own, since I’d have to put one together if I ordered it anyway.  I found a kit I could buy that came with all the specialty hardware (bed stops, gas pistons, legs, etc.) and written and DVD instructions for cutting the wood and putting it together.  I also ordered the light kit so I wouldn’t need night tables anymore.

Since Murphy beds are the ultimate space maximizers, it only made sense to build it using Time Lord technology:  bigger on the inside!

The first step (after purchasing the necessary materials and tools) was to assemble the frame.  I was fortunate enough to complete this step three times which I think makes me an expert.

The first redo occurred because the young man who assisted me at the hardware store told me it wasn’t possible to get solid wood pieces in the measurements called for in my instruction manual, so I tried cutting some of the leftover raw materials to size and screwed them together.  I wasn’t totally satisfied with the end result, which seemed a little wobbly.  The instruction manual states in extremely BOLD letters not to make any substitutions of materials without first contacting customer service.  I went back and forth a few times until I decided to just call and verify before I continued with the assembly.  They confirmed my suspicion that the substitution would not be sturdy enough to withstand use for long and also informed me that the the solid wood sold in the stores is the standard size called for in the directions… something about nominal 1″x2″s are actually 3/4″x1 1/2″ (the dimensions the instructions called for) and he was quite surprised that the young man who worked in the lumber department did not know that.  I thought that might be the case, but the worker seemed so confident in the store that he had me convinced otherwise.

The second redo occurred because I decided I’d save some time and just have the lengths cut while I was at the store since they could set the saw to cut at the length I needed for multiple pieces instead of having to measure and cut each one individually with my miter saw.  I took the wood home and assembled the new frame immediately.

Yes, that is a miter saw on my very nice Afghan carpet.  It's surprisingly resilient and cleans up well. (I mentioned that space is an issue, right?)
Yes, that is a miter saw on my very nice Afghan carpet. It’s surprisingly resilient and cleans up well. (I mentioned that space is an issue at my house, right?)

It turns out that when I said I wanted them cut to a length of 60 1/2″ – “that’s six-zero and one-half inches,” that the worker somehow heard 61 1/2″… something I was lucky enough to find out while trying to attach the head and foot rails.  So… I took the frame apart and measured and cut each one with the miter.  I love saving time, don’t you?

I then played Tetris for days with the scraps on my kitchen table
I then played Tetris for days with the scraps on my kitchen table

Here are a bunch of assembly pictures.  Counter height kitchen tables make excellent workspaces.

Bed Frame Assembly
Bed Frame Assembly


Attaching the Side Rails... this took some creative maneuvering.
Attaching the Side Rails… this took some creative maneuvering.
Then there was the time early in the project when I accidentally drilled a pilot hole right through my crafting table
Then there was the time early in the project when I accidentally drilled a pilot hole right through my crafting table

It was around this time in the project that I had to start calling in reinforcements to help me move things, stand on things, take pictures, lift things or just stand around and tell me what a spectacular job I was doing.  I have the best friends and neighbors (with a few notable exceptions – they know who they are) ever.

I wouldn't see my living room carpet again for nearly a month
I wouldn’t see my living room carpet again for nearly a month
I cannot tell you how excited I was to elevate the frame so I could prime and paint
I cannot tell you how excited I was to elevate the frame so I could prime and paint

Once the bed was primed, I laid out the trim.  A friend and I spent a couple of hours late one night discussing the various possibilities, and laying out materials.  I didn’t have quite enough for the layout I finally chose, and since it was already after 2100, I was going to have to wait until I could get to the hardware store the next morning.

Around 0200 in the morning, I had a new idea which required completely different materials  – materials I wasn’t even sure existed.  But it looked so good in my head, and on paper when I drew it out, that I decided to pursue it anyway.  I returned the trim I’d previously purchased and proceeded to walk the trim aisle for almost two hours.  My idea looked like it might work, but it was going to take some creative effort to create the pieces I wanted.  Apparently they don’t make the pieces I’d imagined.

My design differs from the actual TARDIS (I know), but I wanted it to look a little more decorative while still keeping with the spirit of the TARDIS.  I also wasn’t working with the same dimensions as the actual TARDIS, so I had to make width and height adjustments however I could without taking away from the look.  I happen to like the way it ultimately turned out, so haters can hate somewhere else.

Getting creative with the trim
Getting creative with the trim
It worked!
It worked!

I cannot even begin to tell you how excited I got when I finally reached this point!

It was pretty much impossible to hide the giddy feeling inside as I applied the first coat of paint
It was pretty much impossible to hide the giddy feeling inside as I applied the first coat of paint

First Coat IMG_2744 IMG_2752

It's finally starting to resemble the TARDIS
It’s finally starting to resemble the TARDIS
Adjusting the window frames to make sure they fit
Adjusting the window frames to make sure they fit

I opted for the older blue-gray color scheme because it just seemed to fit a little better with all the other stuff in my home.  I love the deep blue of Matt Smith’s TARDIS, but this is a little subtler for the uninitiated.

Filling in imperfections with wood fill
Filling in imperfections with wood fill
I lost track of the number of times I sanded and painted this thing, but it was a lot.  I kept finding things that needed touching up
I lost track of the number of times I sanded and painted this thing, but it was a lot. I kept finding things that needed touch ups

Before I could begin the final assembly, I had to figure out the lighting.  This was the only part of the kit experience that scared me.  The entire time I was building the components, I wondered if maybe I wouldn’t be better off assembling the bed and installing the lighting at some later date when I magically had the skills to do so with ease.  Because the light kit is a separate component, the DVD does not include instructions for light installations, and the one-page diagram and instruction sheet looked massively confusing to my novice mind.

I finally reminded myself that I would never install the lights if I didn’t do it during the initial build, so, taking a deep breath, I started:  one step at a time.

The instructions said I could use a jig saw or a hole saw to create the holes for the lights.  Um… seriously?  The project had already required my jig skills twice (once for each side rail), and I think they’d best be described as substandard and definitely needs improvement, and I didn’t think attempting to jig perfect circles that would suspend lights directly above the heads of my sleeping guests was the way to practice for the appropriate skill level.

Hole saws are so freaking cool!
Hole saws are so freaking cool!

When it came to routing a dado (you like how I throw terminology around like I know what it means?) the entire length of the cabinet, I had to get especially creative with both my space and my tools.  My test run with the trim router on a piece of scrap wood was awful!  And yet, I somehow determined from that atrocity that I understood the mechanics and the vibrations well enough to just move in straight for the kill with no more practice attempts.  It turns out that my confidence wasn’t entirely misplaced.  The dado turned out quite nice, even if I do say so myself.

My first dado.  It's okay to be impressed.
My first dado. It’s okay to be impressed.

I secured the cabinet to my inverted craft table legs with clamps to hold it steady.  I had no idea if it would be sufficient to hold the board upright and securely enough to run the router the entire length.  It was.  Ready.  Fire.  Aim.  I am so freaking lucky sometimes.  I had to adjust the clamps a couple of times as I worked, but apart from that, there were no snags or hiccups.

The cabinet side clamped to the craft table.
The cabinet side clamped to the craft table.

A few coats of paint to the cabinet pieces, and it was time to assemble!

My dogs were such good sports while their room was under construction.

Marty wanted to be the first to try the TARDIS bed before it was even fully assembled
Marty wanted to be the first to try the TARDIS bed before it was even fully assembled

I definitely could not have done this part without the help of friends and neighbors.  I don’t have enough arms and legs, nor do I have enough strength to maneuver this thing on my own.    Out of respect for their privacy I won’t publicly call them out by name, but they know who they are.

So, without further ado, I give you the *original TARDIS-inspired Murphy Bed:

Okay, maybe a little more ado… because I thought these pictures were way too cute not to share.

The Dog Who Waited
The Dog Who Waited
The Boys Who Waited (Joe's paws looked like they needed mittens)
The Boys Who Waited (Joe’s paws looked like they needed mittens)

It's finished.  Mostly.
It’s finished. Mostly. (It still needs the Yale lock that’s sitting [you guessed it!] on my kitchen table).
And yes, it’s definitely bigger on the inside.  Go ahead.  Pull to open.

"No, really.  Allons-y" ~ Marty
“No, really. Allons-y”

*Actually, I have no idea if it’s ever been done before; I just know that I had never seen one until I built one in my living room.

The most impressive part of this entire project might be the fact that I didn't even break a nail.
The most impressive part of this entire project might be the fact that I didn’t even break a nail.

UPDATE:  Holy cow there has been a lot of traffic on TST since I posted this (okay, since The Bloggess [yes, that The Bloggess] tweeted it).  I just wanted to add that the duvet came from an artist at REDBUBBLE.  Gotta give credit where it’s due.

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34 First Dates

I have to be honest, I was really not very enthused about going on this first date.  There were three main reasons for my lack of enthusiasm:  the previous date, it was a dinner date, and this guy had already taken liberties via text and called me “darlin'”.  I am nobody’s darlin’.  Not now, not ever.

But… as a friend of a friend was so motivated to set us up, I figured I owed it to myself, the world, and my readers to go on this first date.  He let me choose the restaurant (which normally irritates me because I wonder why a grown-up would be unable to make such a trivial decision, but didn’t this time because I had eaten a really big, heavy lunch earlier in the day and recently had a spate of non-stop out-of-town guests with whom I’d pretty well covered nearly every non-chain eating establishment in the area worth covering).  Nearly.  There were two left:  Greek or Thai/Sushi.  I know what you are thinking:  a place that serves Thai food and sushi must not be very good at either.  Well, you are wrong.  They make them both very well.  Very well.

I asked which of the two he preferred, and to my great pleasure, he selected Thai food.  I was also really pleased that he didn’t seem to mind meeting later in the evening, giving me plenty of time to walk the dogs, brush my hair, and watch just one more episode of Doctor Who [I have priorities].

We arrived at nearly the same moment, both combat loaded our vehicles [another good sign], and walked into the restaurant together.  There was a twenty minute wait, so we sat down and started chatting.  We didn’t stop for two-and-a-half hours.  He was a fantastic conversationalist.  And we covered all the taboo subjects:  politics, religion, racism, mental health, and constitutional amendments.

I was open about some of my struggles with ADHD, which gave him pause for a moment when he asked if it was genetically linked.  [It is, but it’s a combination of factors, rather than one specific gene mutation, so it can go either way with offspring.  I’m not worried.  I find more benefits than drawbacks most of the time.]  I figure that people are bound to find out sometime, and if it’s a deal breaker for someone, it’s better they find out early.  It’s not like it’s going to change anytime soon.

He asked what I preferred to be called, and I considered answering with, “Anything is preferable to darlin’,” but I opted to give him a more sincere answer.  I’m good like that.

Unfortunately, as enjoyable as this date happened to be, it doesn’t leave much blog fodder.  Of course, there’s always the possibility that this date wasn’t that great at all, but since my expectations were set so low after the last one that anyone would wind up looking like a rockstar.   But I don’t think so.  I surprised myself with how much I enjoyed this date’s company.

Maybe I’ll give him a second date someday when my life slows down a bit.  2017 is still open [for now].  And at the rate I’m going lately, I may actually be finished with my 50 first dates by then.


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35 First Dates

This date happened a while ago (going on three months now).  I just haven’t had any desire to relive it through writing.  I still don’t, but I suppose if I am ever going to get to the end of this first dating series, then I need to 1) actually write about them and b) keep going on them.  Truth be told, I’m not really keen on either action right now.

I am not even sure how to begin writing about this first date.  My eye is actually twitching as I sit contemplating this post.  That might be a coincidence, though, because it was also twitching earlier today while I was at Walmart.  Although, come to think of it, that may not actually be a coincidence.  I kind of feel the same way about both experiences.  If only their interior paint wasn’t so affordable and so easily applied to walls.  And if their knock-off Ensure wasn’t so much more affordable than everywhere else.  Wow, this eye twitch thing is really irritating… which brings me back full circle to my first date.

I don’t like writing about first date fiascos.  I really don’t.  It makes me feel bad.  I mean, I believe that everyone has value, and when I can’t find things to appreciate about someone, then I feel like it’s my fault, not theirs.  I tried very hard to overlook the things that bothered me on this date to find the good in the person in front of me, but I was mostly just happy to drive home at the end of the evening.

We coordinated via online messaging and cellphone texting to meet for dinner and trivia night.  I tried very hard not to prejudge the experience based on our written interactions, but I think I may have failed.  I thought I’d remembered that he was a teacher, but he could hardly string a group of words together.  I worried that the state might be getting a bit desperate for public educators.  I tried to consider that perhaps he was a coach or industrial arts teacher, and perhaps he had worked hard to overcome a learning disability in order to teach and inspire his students.  This is precisely why I try to limit most pre-date interactions.  It makes it exceedingly difficult not to develop opinions which may not be totally accurate.

I arrived at the predetermined destination and we met on the sidewalk outside a bookstore.  His first words were confusing, “Your pictures do you justice.”  Huh?  As the date went on, it became clear to me that he had no recollection of the fact that we had met in person previously, and even carried on more than one conversation.  Of course, this also made me realize that I could easily have ignored his friend request without hurting his feelings (or even taking notice).  Apparently, I am not foremost on people’s minds, which was really strange and a little disconcerting for me to learn.  The next thing you know, I’m going to find out the the sun, earth, moon, and stars don’t all revolve around me, either.

Dinner was painful.  As we sat down his first question was, “Are you paying or am I?  Or are we going Dutch?”  It seemed like a very awkward beginning, but I guess it’s good to set expectations early.  I told him he could decide, and he opted for us to go Dutch.  For the record, when the bill arrives on any date, I always reach for my wallet because I do not have a problem paying for dates, but I am also comfortable with allowing a date to cover the bill if they offer or prefer.  I’ve never had a date start with a discussion of payment and the way he approached it was a little off-putting for me.

The issue of money came up again and again throughout the evening.  He made the comment that he sees himself as a “feminist” because he has no issue with a woman paying for things (we may have different definitions for the term “feminist”).  “If she is a doctor, and I am a teacher, I would expect her to pay for things because she makes more money.”  Never mind that being a very simplistic view… a doctor, especially one early in a career is probably not taking home a lot more than a teacher when you consider expensive student loan repayments, low starting pay, and medical malpractice insurance premiums.  I bit my tongue about that and merely nodded.  I couldn’t completely control my thoughts from spilling out of my mouth, though, and pointed out that, by his own logic, he really ought to have picked up the bill for the date because he is a teacher, and I was (at that time) unemployed.  He retorted that my unemployment was my own decision.  He never asked why I had recently left my job, apparently quality of life decisions are irrelevant, and I didn’t bother to discuss it with him.  For some reason I did not feel a lot of compassion radiating across the table.  I didn’t really feel a lot of anything radiating across the table.  It felt a little combative, actually.

After dinner, we made our way to the pub where it was trivia night.  We met up with a group of people he knew to play.  This part of the night was actually quite fun and engaging.  The others in the group were a fun bunch and very welcoming of my presence.  We laughed a lot and discussed our answers.  It was so much fun to debate and discuss trivia questions without a Google lifeline.  I had such a great time with the entire group that I was sad that I hadn’t enjoyed the company of my date more because I would love to have made a semi-regular appearance at trivia night.

I’m never sure how to end dates like this.  I mean, nobody wants to be strung along, but how do you say that you feel tremendous relief that the night is over and you are not interested in spending more time together?  It is especially challenging when people know I am going on 50 First Dates, as he did, because I don’t want people to ever feel like they are reduced to being a notch on a blog post (see what I did there?).  They aren’t.  It wasn’t that he was an awful person; he just was not a good fit for me.  He indicated that he was interested in more opportunities to spend time together and I gave a vague response about staying in touch.  We exchanged a few more messages, but eventually that tapered and we are no longer communicating.

Why oh why did I say 50 first dates and not 15 first dates?  I’d be finished already.  Instead I have 35 yet to go.  Well, technically 34, because I have already been on another one… stay tuned.  Or don’t.

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