On Friendship & Dating
filmstar linked to an article about making friends in your 30s.
REACTION ONE: THAT IS NOT TRUE OF ME AT ALL
The degree to which I have changed socially over the past few years is astounding. For most of my life, I have been moderately to severely introverted. Now I differed from Heather and the most hard-core of introverts in that under very specific circumstances (i.e. one-on-one and she's pretty), I could give the illusion of being outgoing.
During law school, I hardly made any friends, and that remained true the first time I lived in San Diego, when we moved to Tucson, and when we moved to Houston. Each time, this article would have resonated more. At the time I thought it was that I knew, or strongly suspected, my stay was temporary. A part of it was probably that I had no money to go out and do anything.
But I think something else changed. Overnight, and for no apparent reason, I became an extrovert. Years ago, splitseconds described me as "charming" and the idea baffled me. Now I often feel charming. I assume I could have a good, interesting conversation with about anyone I meet. If we don't, I tend to assume it is a failure on their part and not mine. I am confident that I can be witty when needed, that I can ask pertinent questions, and that things will generally flow. I have no fear of talking with a stranger. Sometimes for hours.
It really hit home at grrillaesthete's birthday party. In the past, the math on this one would have left me deep in a shell. (Back of the hand: there were roughly 20 people - 5 other guys and 14 women. We did not discuss football or movies and about half were drinking. We will call a cumulative hotness of 3. Using the formula from the above link, my social-ness should have been negative).
But it wasn't.
I ended up making the rounds. I spoke with almost everyone. At one point April returned to her seat from her rounds to find me chatting up the person seated next to her only to say "I have to warn you, if you let him he'll talk to you all night." I realized that was only partially true - I would have gladly had an extended conversation with her, but there were so many other people to talk with! I reconnected with someone I had met at April's birthday last year (and we ended up Facebook friends), and talked with a third person about the too-remote-to-be-realistic idea of making a graphic novel together.
Within the past two years, I've had two very good friends move away (Amanda and Erin). When Erin was moving away, I mentioned it to Amanda who said something along the lines of "I noticed that Erin replaced me as your girlfriend."
REACTION TWO: CONFESSIONS OF A SERIAL DATER
One response to the article: "I realized a while ago that marriage is not the end of dating."
It resonated with me (but perhaps not in the way intended), in part because of Amanda's comment. She and I talked a few times about how our friendship happened because we were both married. If only one of us had been married, that spouse would have felt threatened (and many spouses would have felt threatened anyway, but ours are full of awesome). We also had a deep emotional connection and just enough chemistry to make things a tiny bit awkward.
Most of my life, I have thought of "dating" as an artifact from an idealized fifties life as it existed on television. Two teens would meet at the local malt shop. Because this was 50s television, there would be no sex. Hell, there would be no kissing. At most you'd get some holding hands and staring deeply into each other's eyes. Mostly there would be a lot of talk, some mild flirting, and, at best, emotional intimacy.
Holy shit! Amanda was right. We had been dating. She had been my girlfriend!
Sure there was no handholding (and maybe only a little bit of staring deeply into each other's eyes), but that didn't seem disqualifying. The things we were doing all screamed DATE.
More interestingly, I "date" in that sense all the time. I date more than I ever did in college or high school.
The flavor is different, of course. The odds of the date ending with our clothes strewn everywhere (or even a kiss) is non-existent. Often neither party has any romantic interest in the other. The flirting (often) is mild and innocent and may not even exist at all. But one can still feel just a tiny bit of edge when two people of compatible orientation spend meaningful time together enjoying each other's company.
REACTION ONE: THAT IS NOT TRUE OF ME AT ALL
The degree to which I have changed socially over the past few years is astounding. For most of my life, I have been moderately to severely introverted. Now I differed from Heather and the most hard-core of introverts in that under very specific circumstances (i.e. one-on-one and she's pretty), I could give the illusion of being outgoing.
During law school, I hardly made any friends, and that remained true the first time I lived in San Diego, when we moved to Tucson, and when we moved to Houston. Each time, this article would have resonated more. At the time I thought it was that I knew, or strongly suspected, my stay was temporary. A part of it was probably that I had no money to go out and do anything.
But I think something else changed. Overnight, and for no apparent reason, I became an extrovert. Years ago, splitseconds described me as "charming" and the idea baffled me. Now I often feel charming. I assume I could have a good, interesting conversation with about anyone I meet. If we don't, I tend to assume it is a failure on their part and not mine. I am confident that I can be witty when needed, that I can ask pertinent questions, and that things will generally flow. I have no fear of talking with a stranger. Sometimes for hours.
It really hit home at grrillaesthete's birthday party. In the past, the math on this one would have left me deep in a shell. (Back of the hand: there were roughly 20 people - 5 other guys and 14 women. We did not discuss football or movies and about half were drinking. We will call a cumulative hotness of 3. Using the formula from the above link, my social-ness should have been negative).
But it wasn't.
I ended up making the rounds. I spoke with almost everyone. At one point April returned to her seat from her rounds to find me chatting up the person seated next to her only to say "I have to warn you, if you let him he'll talk to you all night." I realized that was only partially true - I would have gladly had an extended conversation with her, but there were so many other people to talk with! I reconnected with someone I had met at April's birthday last year (and we ended up Facebook friends), and talked with a third person about the too-remote-to-be-realistic idea of making a graphic novel together.
Within the past two years, I've had two very good friends move away (Amanda and Erin). When Erin was moving away, I mentioned it to Amanda who said something along the lines of "I noticed that Erin replaced me as your girlfriend."
REACTION TWO: CONFESSIONS OF A SERIAL DATER
One response to the article: "I realized a while ago that marriage is not the end of dating."
It resonated with me (but perhaps not in the way intended), in part because of Amanda's comment. She and I talked a few times about how our friendship happened because we were both married. If only one of us had been married, that spouse would have felt threatened (and many spouses would have felt threatened anyway, but ours are full of awesome). We also had a deep emotional connection and just enough chemistry to make things a tiny bit awkward.
Most of my life, I have thought of "dating" as an artifact from an idealized fifties life as it existed on television. Two teens would meet at the local malt shop. Because this was 50s television, there would be no sex. Hell, there would be no kissing. At most you'd get some holding hands and staring deeply into each other's eyes. Mostly there would be a lot of talk, some mild flirting, and, at best, emotional intimacy.
Holy shit! Amanda was right. We had been dating. She had been my girlfriend!
Sure there was no handholding (and maybe only a little bit of staring deeply into each other's eyes), but that didn't seem disqualifying. The things we were doing all screamed DATE.
More interestingly, I "date" in that sense all the time. I date more than I ever did in college or high school.
The flavor is different, of course. The odds of the date ending with our clothes strewn everywhere (or even a kiss) is non-existent. Often neither party has any romantic interest in the other. The flirting (often) is mild and innocent and may not even exist at all. But one can still feel just a tiny bit of edge when two people of compatible orientation spend meaningful time together enjoying each other's company.