On Dating
So there I was on the Book of Face just now, doing that silly Social Interview thing I so enjoy, and one of my least favourite questions came up: "describe your perfect date".
I don't have a lot of experience with that whole "date" thing. I've had a few nice days or evenings out over the years, and a few not so nice ones, but for the most part "going out" with someone has mostly meant "staying in". On the whole, if I've gone on any kind of formal date with someone, that was the end of it (and in one memorable case, I didn't even know he thought it was a date until I was stuck in his car -- fortunately, he was a gentle-hearted and probably developmentally disabled old man). So I really have trouble imagining a good date, much less a perfect one.
Kyle and I were already living together when we went on our first "date" (it was a day at Science North, since we were living in Sudberia at the time and we're both big dorks). That...just doesn't feel like it counts. Fluffy and I had planned an evening out this past summer, but that got cut off at the knees by life craziness, and all we managed was schmooping over some appetizers at N82 (nice, but really short, and a couple of years into our relationship). I'd call that one evening I went to a movie and then had drinks and trivia at UBetcha with a very nice guy to whom I just couldn't manage an attraction a date...I was all of 19, I think (nice...but boring: not smart, not subversive, not funny, not intriguing in any way). I was probably 25 or 26 when I went on the accidental date with the goochy old man. A couple of outings when I was in my teens, here and there, usually doubled in support of a friend, or sneakily set up with somebody who was much more fun when we didn't bother trying to talk. That's really about it.
Maybe I have to rethink the whole date thing. I tend to think of it as sort of an interview process, all nerves and performance, related to some particular relational format: date as part of dating, with a romantic or carnal agenda. Maybe it's not, or at least it doesn't have to be. I've been very careful, over the years (more of my patented self-protective bullshit) to call anything that could potentially look like a dating-date but isn't one an un-date, or a friend-date, or whatever. The more I really examine my behaviours, the more I see how much self-protection I've built up, and sometimes I sort of hate myself for it. It's ugly...but at the same time, it's the armour I've worn to keep out those slings and arrows of undateable (possibly accurate) and unfuckable (plenty would disagree) and unlovable (objectively untrue), and maintain some kind of healthy self-concept. I could hate the octotoddler for permanently carving that into my metaphorical flesh, but it's not worth it: she only has a few more years left on her, after all, and I've got the rest of my life to work on keeping those messages out.
If I have a potentially perfect date, maybe it doesn't have anything to do with any agenda at all. Maybe it doesn't have to have anything to do with the way we perceive dates, culturally -- and by that I mean food + entertainment + some sort of romantically-affiliated contact at the end of the night, depending on one's norms, mores, and interest. In fact, I'm more inclined to say my perfect date WOULD lack that romantic/carnal/performative association, and just be fun and pressure-free.
But I wonder: is it still a date at that point? How much can we bend the word before it breaks? If I go to a poetry reading with Jen or a movie with Wimzy or...OK, I was going to use Dave in an example, but we've never managed social excursions more interesting than lunch...without that narrowly circumscribed social meaning, I've both fulfilled and failed to fulfill aspects of the "date" as we understand it culturally: it's a planned social interaction for two (mononormative, but whatever), but there's no agenda. Just as importantly, is it ever possible to use those four little letters without attaching all the romantic/carnal/performative baggage, except by prefixing?
*sigh* Raise your hand if you think it's probably a good thing I'm too timid to get myself back out there and potentially meet someone, now that Kyle and I have, much to our dismay, become the most unintentionally monogamous poly couple in history. I overthink this shit way too much.
I don't have a lot of experience with that whole "date" thing. I've had a few nice days or evenings out over the years, and a few not so nice ones, but for the most part "going out" with someone has mostly meant "staying in". On the whole, if I've gone on any kind of formal date with someone, that was the end of it (and in one memorable case, I didn't even know he thought it was a date until I was stuck in his car -- fortunately, he was a gentle-hearted and probably developmentally disabled old man). So I really have trouble imagining a good date, much less a perfect one.
Kyle and I were already living together when we went on our first "date" (it was a day at Science North, since we were living in Sudberia at the time and we're both big dorks). That...just doesn't feel like it counts. Fluffy and I had planned an evening out this past summer, but that got cut off at the knees by life craziness, and all we managed was schmooping over some appetizers at N82 (nice, but really short, and a couple of years into our relationship). I'd call that one evening I went to a movie and then had drinks and trivia at UBetcha with a very nice guy to whom I just couldn't manage an attraction a date...I was all of 19, I think (nice...but boring: not smart, not subversive, not funny, not intriguing in any way). I was probably 25 or 26 when I went on the accidental date with the goochy old man. A couple of outings when I was in my teens, here and there, usually doubled in support of a friend, or sneakily set up with somebody who was much more fun when we didn't bother trying to talk. That's really about it.
Maybe I have to rethink the whole date thing. I tend to think of it as sort of an interview process, all nerves and performance, related to some particular relational format: date as part of dating, with a romantic or carnal agenda. Maybe it's not, or at least it doesn't have to be. I've been very careful, over the years (more of my patented self-protective bullshit) to call anything that could potentially look like a dating-date but isn't one an un-date, or a friend-date, or whatever. The more I really examine my behaviours, the more I see how much self-protection I've built up, and sometimes I sort of hate myself for it. It's ugly...but at the same time, it's the armour I've worn to keep out those slings and arrows of undateable (possibly accurate) and unfuckable (plenty would disagree) and unlovable (objectively untrue), and maintain some kind of healthy self-concept. I could hate the octotoddler for permanently carving that into my metaphorical flesh, but it's not worth it: she only has a few more years left on her, after all, and I've got the rest of my life to work on keeping those messages out.
If I have a potentially perfect date, maybe it doesn't have anything to do with any agenda at all. Maybe it doesn't have to have anything to do with the way we perceive dates, culturally -- and by that I mean food + entertainment + some sort of romantically-affiliated contact at the end of the night, depending on one's norms, mores, and interest. In fact, I'm more inclined to say my perfect date WOULD lack that romantic/carnal/performative association, and just be fun and pressure-free.
But I wonder: is it still a date at that point? How much can we bend the word before it breaks? If I go to a poetry reading with Jen or a movie with Wimzy or...OK, I was going to use Dave in an example, but we've never managed social excursions more interesting than lunch...without that narrowly circumscribed social meaning, I've both fulfilled and failed to fulfill aspects of the "date" as we understand it culturally: it's a planned social interaction for two (mononormative, but whatever), but there's no agenda. Just as importantly, is it ever possible to use those four little letters without attaching all the romantic/carnal/performative baggage, except by prefixing?
*sigh* Raise your hand if you think it's probably a good thing I'm too timid to get myself back out there and potentially meet someone, now that Kyle and I have, much to our dismay, become the most unintentionally monogamous poly couple in history. I overthink this shit way too much.