(no subject)
Woodstock is 1709 days old
Blondie and Dagwood are 1195 days old
Yesterday’s dryland training session on the North Shore Line was moved to Robert Crown due to high temperature, soggy ground, or something. On this particular Monday the figure skaters where having some kind of a show. During the warm up I got to get a sample of some of the music they would be playing for the show. One skater was going to skate to a bastardized version of “A day in the Life” and another (which I found instantly comical) would skate to the 2005 version of the theme for Doctor Who.
Much of the training was done to work around the performance and ended up getting chopped up ad cut down. Still, we managed to finish in time for me to just miss the 8:02 train.
Ashley offered to give me a ride to the train station (even though there was about a forty five minute wait for it) as it was on her way. I accepted. On the way there she must have thought better of the idea and offered instead to drive home and then walk back with me to the train station. She said something about not knowing where to park around the station.
This is very important. It seems so obvious now in hindsight, but it would not have occurred to me. This concept of walking someone to their destination. It is both polite and allows for the opportunity for conversation. Like Kintaro, I must study study study.
I learned much from her in the time we talked together on the way to the train and while waiting for it on the platform. I fear I talked too much about myself even though she assured me it wasn’t a problem. She thought it was “cute.” People have often thought I was self-centered (they have said so to me) because I talk about myself often. I merely don’t know what else to talk about. This all came about when she admitted to being narcissistic, although I’ve seen no signs of this whatsoever and told her so.
Apparently she talks to George a lot. (Or rather that he talks to her a lot.) This was both surprising and interesting. George has never seemed to be the type to talk much. He has always seemed much more of the type to use text messages that say little to nothing. It would seem that his communication skills depend greatly on the gender of the listener.
It is very depressing. It is yet another reminder than I don’t talk to people “like others do” because I don’t know what people talk about.
On the whole she spoke a lot about George. She spoke about George as much as I talked about myself.
Apparently she tried to go out with George (she liked/likes the attention) but he refused on account of already having a girlfriend. (An interesting tidbit which I know, but not from him.) She thinks he's trying to get her laid. (Probably because she wants to get laid.) I recounted the story of George's comments after her first training session. (Thinking back on it now, I wonder if George already told her about it.) This ended up leading to the general topic of getting laid and then, as if it suddenly occurred to her that I am indeed a guy, she asked if I would be interested. The gist of what I said was "I'm always interested," though now I wonder if this was not an active enough answer. It lacks specificity, and therefore, it leans toward a passive answer.
For a while the prospect of this greatly excited me and lasted through the night and into the next day. At some points I wanted to do flips and summersaults and other physical activities, but later my excitement slid into depression and lethargy. My anxiety about such situations makes itself all too clear to me, though it didn't make any sign of showing up last night while I was in front of her. I did make it known that I have never been in a relationship before and It felt good to do so. It came off in a casual way and this is no longer a "dark secret" of my life. The best kept secret is one that doesn't exist. I wonder if she fully realizes just how inexperienced I am in the whole matter.
When the train arrived it suddenly occurred to me that I should get her phone number.
All seemed well at the time, but now a strong paranoia has come over me. I find myself seeing plots and setups woven throughout this whole situation. If something potentially positive happens, it must be a bad thing. I will always convince myself of this.
Blondie and Dagwood are 1195 days old
Yesterday’s dryland training session on the North Shore Line was moved to Robert Crown due to high temperature, soggy ground, or something. On this particular Monday the figure skaters where having some kind of a show. During the warm up I got to get a sample of some of the music they would be playing for the show. One skater was going to skate to a bastardized version of “A day in the Life” and another (which I found instantly comical) would skate to the 2005 version of the theme for Doctor Who.
Much of the training was done to work around the performance and ended up getting chopped up ad cut down. Still, we managed to finish in time for me to just miss the 8:02 train.
Ashley offered to give me a ride to the train station (even though there was about a forty five minute wait for it) as it was on her way. I accepted. On the way there she must have thought better of the idea and offered instead to drive home and then walk back with me to the train station. She said something about not knowing where to park around the station.
This is very important. It seems so obvious now in hindsight, but it would not have occurred to me. This concept of walking someone to their destination. It is both polite and allows for the opportunity for conversation. Like Kintaro, I must study study study.
I learned much from her in the time we talked together on the way to the train and while waiting for it on the platform. I fear I talked too much about myself even though she assured me it wasn’t a problem. She thought it was “cute.” People have often thought I was self-centered (they have said so to me) because I talk about myself often. I merely don’t know what else to talk about. This all came about when she admitted to being narcissistic, although I’ve seen no signs of this whatsoever and told her so.
Apparently she talks to George a lot. (Or rather that he talks to her a lot.) This was both surprising and interesting. George has never seemed to be the type to talk much. He has always seemed much more of the type to use text messages that say little to nothing. It would seem that his communication skills depend greatly on the gender of the listener.
It is very depressing. It is yet another reminder than I don’t talk to people “like others do” because I don’t know what people talk about.
On the whole she spoke a lot about George. She spoke about George as much as I talked about myself.
Apparently she tried to go out with George (she liked/likes the attention) but he refused on account of already having a girlfriend. (An interesting tidbit which I know, but not from him.) She thinks he's trying to get her laid. (Probably because she wants to get laid.) I recounted the story of George's comments after her first training session. (Thinking back on it now, I wonder if George already told her about it.) This ended up leading to the general topic of getting laid and then, as if it suddenly occurred to her that I am indeed a guy, she asked if I would be interested. The gist of what I said was "I'm always interested," though now I wonder if this was not an active enough answer. It lacks specificity, and therefore, it leans toward a passive answer.
For a while the prospect of this greatly excited me and lasted through the night and into the next day. At some points I wanted to do flips and summersaults and other physical activities, but later my excitement slid into depression and lethargy. My anxiety about such situations makes itself all too clear to me, though it didn't make any sign of showing up last night while I was in front of her. I did make it known that I have never been in a relationship before and It felt good to do so. It came off in a casual way and this is no longer a "dark secret" of my life. The best kept secret is one that doesn't exist. I wonder if she fully realizes just how inexperienced I am in the whole matter.
When the train arrived it suddenly occurred to me that I should get her phone number.
All seemed well at the time, but now a strong paranoia has come over me. I find myself seeing plots and setups woven throughout this whole situation. If something potentially positive happens, it must be a bad thing. I will always convince myself of this.