Diary of a Network Geek

Johnny was a chemist’s son,
But Johnny is no more.
What Johnny thought was H20
was H2SO4.

Well, I guess this “chemistry” business might be more important than I was willing to believe.
In short, I got the brush-off via e-mail last night. S. liked me well enough, according to her e-mail, but just didn’t see us as a couple. It was actually a very polite, simple, straight to the point note. I know the modern relationship experts say you shouldn’t do that sort of thing via e-mail, but, considering that we met via Match.com and only went out twice, it seemed fine to me. At least she actually told me what was going on, gave an understandable reason for her decision and didn’t try to dance around with it. So often, especially with the on-line stuff, communication just stops with no reason or explanation or anything. And, yes, that goes both ways. Men do that to women as often as women do it to men.

In any case, it’s done and that’s fine.
Really, on the way home from work last night, I found myself thinking about the last chemistry post and the comments there and I started asking myself what I was doing. What was my goal in all this? I guess I knew it wasn’t working, too, but thought, or hoped, that another date or two would change things a bit. Ah, well, I’ve always been good at thinking myself into circles. I don’t trust my feelings when it comes to making decisions, especially about people. I don’t know, maybe I’ve been fooled so many times by people who present themselves as one thing only to turn out totally different. Appearances, truly can be deceiving.

Right now, though, going with that “feeling” stuff, the only people I’m interested in are off-limits for various reasons.
The two women I feel most drawn to, the most chemistry with, are a friend’s ex-fiance that he’s far from over, no matter what he says, and C., the receptionist at work with a Drama Quotient so high it’s practically off the scale.
See why I shy away from trusting my feelings or relying on chemistry?

(Incidentally, that little ditty at the start of the post is on a t-hsirt at Think Geek. And H2SO4 is sulfuric acid. Or, to steal a quote from the Naked Gun, “It’s like eating a spoonful of Drano, sure it’ll clean you out, but it’ll leave you hollow inside. “)

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"A great deal of good can be done in the world if one is not too careful who gets the credit."
   --Jesuit Motto

“Is there any chemistry?”

I was asked that question this weekend in reference to the nice, Chinese girl, S., from Match.com. I was telling J. and L. about my first date with her, and my second date Friday, which went well, by the way. I’ve graduated from handshakes to hugs. I also apparently rated her real name, which, it turns out, has nothing to do with the letter “S” at all! That was just a name she used on Match to stay safe. Smart girl.

In any case, we went out to dinner again last Friday. Interestingly enough, I think I’d eaten in that restaurant before. It’s a place called Thai Gourmet. (Notice a theme to our dining?) I got there just a few minutes before her and, gentleman that I am, rose to greet her when she came through the door. As last time, we had a good meal and better conversation. I did notice, though, that the more comfortable she seems with me, the thicker her accent gets. I found that sort of interesting. I also found it interesting that she volunteered to pay for half of dinner. I didn’t let her, mainly because she took me by surprise, but also, Thai restaurants are usually pretty inexpensive.
Then we went to a Starbucks off Westheimer where I let her buy me a chai latte. And we talked some more. She’s an interesting girl, that’s for sure. Turns out she’s probably less than a year away from getting her greencard. After that, she ought to be able to travel fairly easily so she can go back to Shanghai and see her family.
She asked me a funny sort of question, though. Again, since she caught me by surprise, I probably was a little more honest than I’d have been given some time to think about it. She asked me how important I thought looks were. Now, I probably should have hesitated and thought about it, but, being me, I didn’t.
“What’s more important to me,” I told her, “is how someone treats me. Don’t get me wrong, looks are important, but not as important as the way someone treats me.” And, after a moment’s pause, I added, “I suppose I think about that a bit more since the divorce, but being pretty on the outside doesn’t matter much or for long if someone is ugly on the inside.” From her reaction, I’d say she like that answer.

So, as we’re gathering everyone for dinner after church, I’m updating J. and L. about my two dates. I emphasized how nice S. is and how intelligent and easy to talk to. And, L. asks that question,”Is there any chemistry?”
Naturally, I ignored the question and just kept on talking about, well, anything but the answer to that question, frankly. She asked me twice more before catching on that I was just going to ignore the question. Though, I have to admit, I was mulling an answer over in my head. It went something like this…

Chemistry is over-rated. Chemistry led me to an unhappy marriage and a painful divorce. Chemistry had me chasing every “pretty on the outside, ugly on the inside” woman I ever ran into that gave me a second glance. Chemistry is what damn near ruined my life and draws me like a stupid moth to a white-hot chemical fire.
If I were to follow this chemistry business, I’d chase after the receptionist at work who’s Drama Quotient is off the scale. In the name of this chemistry nonsense, I’d batter what was left of myself against the giant monolith of a hopeless cause.
No thanks. This time, I’m going to ignore the damn chemistry and do the smart thing. The “chemistry” will follow, if everything else works, too.

I told J. as much Sunday afternoon. He agreed that it was the smarter thing to do, but then he tried to tell me how important chemistry was to a long-term relationship. I think I managed to keep a straight face.
The truth is, there is a bit of chemistry there with S. It’s not the white-hot, searing burn of an over-heated crucible that will burn my fingerprints off, but, it’s there enough to make it all work. If we work at it.
Only time will tell.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"If we only wanted to be happy, it would be easy; but we want to be happier than other people, which is almost always difficult, since we think them happier than they are."
   --Montesquieu

So, this is one of those posts that I started a long, long time ago and never finished.

Then, I sort of merged it with a couple of other ones until I have this mish-mash of thought and links that make almost no sense until I edit the bejeezus out of it. So, I started with this:

Looking for a watering hole in Houston?
Well, according to CitySearch, these are the best.

Then, I tried to link to the best coffeehouses in Houston, but that link went away, so instead, I’ll link to the CitySearch “Best Of Houston” page.

Okay, not my usual Friday Fun link, but I’ve been thinking about this, since I’m going out on a second date tonight.  Wish me luck and vote in the poll on the right~!

So, I think I’ve driven off most my readers now.

Between my work schedule, the holidays and this damn crud that just won’t go away, I haven’t had a lot of time or energy for blogging. I do feel a little guilty, though. I know some of you do still read and my normally regular posts have been erratic at best and filled with little of my usual fare.
Well, get ready. Here comes an update…

Okay, my last excuse for not writing more is getting old, fast. I have been sick since before Christmas. It started as a head cold, or sinus infection, and moved South into my chest. Mainly, it just makes me unbearably tired all the time and gives me this terrible sounding death-rattle of a chest cough. My mother, naturally, is quite concerned. I told her that I would go to a doctor if things didn’t start improving, but I haven’t been to a doctor in years, so I don’t really have a regular doctor to get to down here. On the other hand, my mother is in Chicago, so what can she do besides scold me? Besides, at the moment, I have at least five women asking after my health.

First is L., J. the Groom With Cold Feet’s fiance. She was quite concerned Saturday night when she heard my cough. I honestly was waiting for her to cluck over me and tell me to get to a doctor. But, all I got was the worried look and an extra helping of concern.
Then, after dinner, the cute, red-headed Federal Probation Officer gave me a parting “Feel better” with a lot of direct eye contact and expanded pupils. That sort of caught me by surprise, really. I didn’t think she’d noticed me hardly at all, much less enough to exchange even that level of pleasantry.
Before that, when we were still at church, waiting in line for communion, K., J.’s former fiance, walks by. I’m standing behind J.’s brother, who’s developmentally challenged. Naturally, he sees K. and shouts her name, so she suddenly finds herself drawn into a conversation I think she was hoping to avoid. Turns out, he hasn’t seen her since she and J. broke up, so, naturally, having fewer social inhibitions than the rest of us, he asks her what happened. To her credit, she handled it with grace and said, simply, “Well, things just didn’t work out.” Then, of course, she has to stop and give me a hug hello before making a break for it. Sunday, I sent her an e-mail to check on her. My heart really goes out to her. She went from the failed relationship with J. to another engagement that also didn’t work out. Only with the second one, they’d set a date and started moving in to her house. Anyway, I asked her how she was doing and gave her some general cheering-on, but when I signed off, I apparently mentioned that I was going to take some Theraflu and crash. In her response, she asked after my health. (That’s three, in case you’ve been counting.)

Now, I’m going to get even more out of chronological order.
Last week, I got a little tired of C., the receptionist, not returning phone calls or e-mails. Not at work, mind, but personal communication. I figure I’m worth at least the same consideration that a professional contact would be, but that’s not what’s been happening. So, I dropped her an e-mail asking if that’s what she was tryng to tell me, and if it was, just come out and say it. I understand her worrying about how I would react at the office, since I recognize that not everyone deals with that sort of thing well, but I assured her it would not effect our professional relationship at all. I didn’t get a response. So, I just stopped calling or e-mail or anything else.
For the past month or so, I could be counted on to call at least once over the weekend and leave a voice-mail. Probably in the same amount of time, I might have sent one or two e-mails. But, this weekend? Nothing. Then, Monday, I was my normal, cordial self, but I didn’t go out of my way to make conversation with her. When she asked me for help with the mp3 player her daughter got for Christmas, I helped her, but didn’t make any other small talk. She noticed.
Later in the day, she stopped at the copier outside my office and made copies, then asked me if everything was okay. I shrugged and told her that I guessed so. She told me I was quiet. I reminded her that it was because I was sick. She seemed surprised. I laughed at her a little because I can’t imagine anyone missing my hacking cough for the past three weeks. She gave me a little “get well” wish and slipped off back to the reception area.
We’ll see how things unfold there.

The last woman who’s concerned about my health, besides my mother, is S., the nice Chinese lady I met on Match.com
We had a good date Thursday.  A quiet, little Thai place called Thai Corner.  It’s right at the edge of Chinatown and right next to a big asian grocery.  So, naturally, I ended up getting there way early and waiting a bit.  I’m pretty sure I was the only non-asian for a couple miles in any direction.  But, that’s okay, I’m used to not quite fitting in.  It was a nice, quiet evening that started and ended with a handshake.  Which is just fine, considering the hair-raising pace my last relationship took!  She has her undergrad in Biology and her Masters in Computer Science, both from Rice.  And her conversation showed that she was on the ball.  After dinner, she asked if I would come with her while she did her shopping at the store next door.  Naturally, I went with her.  When I walked her badk to her car, I asked if I could call her on the weekend.  She told me yes, so I planned to call Saturday.
Well, Friday, I got an e-mail from her telling me what a good time she had and thanking me for dinner.  So I replied back and set my sights on calling Sunday, which was a better day timewise anyway.
When I got her on the phone, she said, “Oh, Jim, I’m glad you called.  I’m really glad you called.”  And, naturally, she asked if I was feeling any better.  Sadly, I’m still not.

But, that’s not going to keep me from going out with her again Friday.

No, the date last night didn’t go that well!

Even though things did go well last night, I was actually thinking of J., the Groom with Cold Feet, and his erstwhile bride. This really just seems right up their alley for some reason. Naturally, I’m talking about the Worst Case Scenario Handbook: Weddings.

No, seriously, it’s not a joke! Well, okay, it is a joke, sort of, but these things really can happen at a wedding. And, after what these two have already been through, I’m thinking anything that smooths the way is probably a good thing to have on hand.  Besides, when I read the adverstising copy, I just sort of pictured how this whole wedding might go wrong… “Wedding dress torn? Ring lost? Cake collapsed? Groom gone missing? Despite all the planning, the happy couple might not actually be prepared for The Big Day and all that can go awry.” See what I mean?  Of course, giving it to them as a wedding gift would be a little too late.  Well, maybe they’ll have a bridal shower I can sneak it into.

Anyway, in the mean time, why not check out what the Snopes Urban Legends Reference Page has to say about weddings?  It’s pretty funny, even if all the links aren’t quite safe for work.

Happy Friday everyone!

So, I’ve been a little quiet lately…

I suppose it’s natural, considering how busy the holidays always are, and how sick I’ve been and the family emergencies and all. Still, I feel a little guilty not keeping up with the blog.

First, let me thank everyone who sent warm holiday wishes and condolences about my uncle’s passing. I was very glad I went up for the funeral, even though I don’t particularly care for them. For one thing, I had no idea how much it would mean to my cousins, one of which I haven’t seen in close to 20 years. It was a little bizarre to see her “little” kids all grown up and talking about college or post-graduate work.
And, I know that me being there meant a lot to my father. He was very close to his older brother and I know he was really feeling the loss, even if he couldn’t say so out loud. I love my father dearly, but he certainly is where I learned to suppress my emotions. But, in any case, I was glad to be there to lend support to the mourners, though, I have to admit, it was a new and different experience to help lifting and loading my uncle’s coffin into the hearse after the funeral. There wasn’t a graveside service, since he was being cremated, so no funeral procession or need for formal pallbearers. Still, it was… Well, a bit strange to find myself doing that, performing that last familial service for a deceased relative. Honestly, I was honored to be able to do so.

My family has always had an unusual relationship with death. For one thing, we’re fairly religious and, though our individual beliefs may differ, we all believe in an existence beyond this one. I’m not sure any of us are willing to commit to what that might look like, but, I think, we all believe that the end of this life isn’t the end of all things. Certainly, that’s what I believe and the message I got from our parents. I’m not quite willing to embrace a particular view of heaven or hell or purgatory or limbo or nirvana or whatever, but I feel strongly that something goes on beyond our short time here.
Combine that with my father’s work with Elizabeth Kubler-Ross on death and dying and, well, my views on that whole process are, I think, I little different than what some folks might expect. It’s a process, a step, a thing that happens. And, of course, I’m sure it will be all different when it’s my brother, or father or other close relative who leaves this world.

But, life goes on.
So, I have a date. Thursday night at 7:30PM, with a nice Chinese girl I met on Match.com. She’s been in the States since 1997, has a Masters in Computer Science from Rice and seems, as I’ve mentioned, quite nice. At least, from the few e-mails and one phone-call, she seems nice. Her English is almost perfect. Just a trace of an accent. Just enough to make her sound a little exotic and interesting on the phone. She’s pretty cute, too, from her picture.
We’re meeting for dinner at a Thai restaurant in what my ABC friend calls the “new, safer” Chinatown. Well, actually it’s right at the edge of the “new” Chinatown. You know what fascinates me, though? I had no idea that Houston had one Chinatown, much less two. What have I been doing all this time that I missed that?
Anyway, I’ll be glad to find a new Thai restaurant and just get out a little. Though, I have to admit, as always, I’m worried about that first date. Kiss or no kiss? Hug only? Shake hands? That always stymies me. I guess I’ll just play it by ear and hope for the best. (Though advice on that topic is always welcome!)

And C., at work, has been as confusing as ever.
She had a big blowup with her BF of 9 months or so while I was away. Apparently, he was just pushing too hard and smothering her and… Well, from what she said, he made the classic mistake that all men make in that situation, even me. As we feel our heart’s desire slipping away, we try to hold on tighter and end up squeezing our chances right through our fingers.
So, I talked with her a bit and it was good, but… I don’t know. There’s something there, but what I have no idea. I sense a certain amount of interest, obviously, or I wouldn’t keep coming back to it. But… But, I keep getting mixed signals from her. My friend, J., the Groom with Cold Feet, reminded me what I was like right after my divorce, even though we’d been separated for more than a year. So, I think I can understand some of what she’s going through. I like her. I really, really like her. And, I’d like to get to know her better, but I keep getting signals that she wants me to back off, possibly all the way off. So, I think that’s what I’m going to do, more or less. No phone calls, no e-mails, nothing more than polite, professional conversation at work. At least, for a while.
Bedsides, I have at least the one girl from Match.com and another possibility, also from Match.com.

Or, I could just shave my head and join a monastery. That’d work, too.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced."
   --James Baldwin

So, you may have noticed that I haven’t posted anything since before Christmas.

Well, there’s a reason. I had actually planned to post something Christmas Day, but, well, I sort of lost heart. You see, my uncle, my father’s older brother, past away Christmas Eve. I got the call first thing Monday, Christmas Morning. It sort of put a damper on all the other stuff going on. I’ll be flying home tomorrow, thanks to very generous bereavement rates, for the funeral. The vet was all booked up, but I got a friend to let the dog out and make sure she’s got food and water, not that I expect her to really eat while I’m away. She’s funny like that.

It’s depressing, of course, to go to funerals. Though, mainly, funerals don’t bother me. I’m much more put off by mourners. I’m a little socially awkward to begin with and nothing’s quite so awkward as either trying to comfort someone who’s just lost their spouse or parent. At least, to me.
You see, I grew up with the idea of death. We talked about it at the dinner table. My grandmother, my father’s mother, lived with us from the time I can remember until she died, which was when I was still in college. She was quite comfortable talking about funeral arrangements for herself and all the related details. My father was one of the people with the AMA who coordinated the case work that went into the now famous On Death and Dying by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross. It’s not talked about much these days, but most of her raw data came from hospital chaplains and, apparently, that was something my father was involved with back then. One of my earliest memories is being told not to hang on the edge of the casket when I was trying to see my Great-Great-Grandpa Grosh, who died at the age of 99, when I was just a little, little kid. So, death in and of itself doesn’t bother me much at all. It’s just a part of life.
But, all the other stuff that goes along with death gets to me.

And, I have to admit, it occurred to me that, one day, perhaps soon, I’d be making a similar trip to bury one or both of my parents. That idea did not sit well with me at all. Apparently, even with all the childhood hours spent in and around funeral parlors and hospitals, I had managed to repress the idea that they’d be suffling off this mortal coil eventually.  This, though, brought it all home.  And, it makes my father the eldest living Hoffman.

In any case, that’s where I’ll be Friday and through New Year’s Eve.  Well, actually, I’ll be flying back into Houston New Year’s Eve, but I’m quite sure I won’t be celebrating at all.  Then, after things settle down a bit, I’ll get in touch with the girl from Match.com with whom I broke a date Tuesday because, frankly, with all this, I wasn’t going to be very good company.  She was sweet, though, and I look forward to meeting her in person, eventually.  Since she was born in China, I suspect I’ll be getting to know some new haunts with her, especially in our Chinatown.  Hey, I didn’t even know that Houston had a Chinatown!

Oh, and another bit of good news: The groom with cold feet, J., who will be watching my dog, has been talking to L., his once and future fiance.  And, she’s already taken the ring back.  They’re going slower this time, though, which I think is probably a good thing for both of them.  Still, I’m very happy that these two are back together.  Crazy as they both might be sometimes, they’re still perfect for each other.

Well, I’ll queue a Friday Fun Link post, but I won’t be active on-line until I get back Sunday night.  Enjoy the weekend.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"There is no failure except no longer trying."
   --Elbert Hubbard

“…is just lunch.”

Sigmund Freud is famously quoted as having told a reporter that “Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar”, when questioned about his oral fixation. I’m not sure that anyone believed that, either.
So, my chief concern about C. at work has played out. The sharks have gotten a taste of blood in the water. She’s been asked out to a limited invitation Christmas party at work. A party to which I am not invited, but which is tonight, so this is all very last minute. The rumor mill reported that bit of information to me by starting off with the introductory statement, “Man, everyone is trying to get into C.’s pants.” That was followed with a brief description of the invite, which was, naturally, accepted.
As I was on my way out to lunch, it was quiet enough at her desk that I stopped and told her that I’d heard she was a “popular girl”. Her eyes got wide and the most charming blush rose to her cheeks as she asked me what I’d heard. I told her the essence of it, but left out the somewhat off-color remarks. Interestingly enough, her blush deepened and she felt the need to explain to me.

“Remember, lunch is just lunch,” she said.
“Yes, I know, but not everyone sees it that way,” I replied.
“Well, you know my situation…”
“Yes. Yes, I do. I’m just saying.” It’s hard to describe the look she gave me there. It’s not that she was asking if it was okay or if my feelings were hurt or anything quite like that, but it did seem important to her that I understand her intent. I’m still not quite sure what to make of it, honestly. I think I’m flattered, but I’m a little confused. “But, now you see why I was being so careful not to feed the rumor mill.”

She didn’t really respond to that, but I think a small sigh managed to leak out. Interestingly enough, later in the day C. was walking by my office and actually came back to silently mouth to me that she wasn’t going after all.  Then, she was off again before I could find out why.  And, of course, work isn’t the best place to talk about that anyway.  The problem is, it’s a small company and word travels fast. Worse, it’s a small company made up primarily of men, many of whom aren’t even as evolved as I am, which ought to give you some idea of just how much testosterone poisoning there is. So, when an attractive, young woman shows up, well, let’s just say that the behavior changes are quite noticeable.

The sad thing is C. is far more than just a pretty face. She’s very sweet and very concerned about the people around her. She’s also, I think, pretty perceptive. Certainly, she’s a lot smarter than she gives herself credit for being. She’s certainly a very sensitive person who’s very aware of the feelings of people around her. She’s a good mother, too, from what I hear. She’s always very concerned about her children. In fact, I wonder how many of the sharks at work understand that getting involved with her means getting involved with her kids and ex-husband. At least, if any guy plans to stick around long enough to have a real relationship with her that’s what it would include.

Look, don’t misunderstand, she is a pretty girl and I’m sure if we “hooked up” the heavens would sing and angels would weep and all that, but… But, let’s face it, I’m of an age when I really should be looking for something more than that. I could, theoretically, cruise bars or bookstores or whatever for a weekend’s worth of physical diversion, but how empty and soul-crushing would that be? I just wish I could figure out how to get her talking about herself in a safe way, away from work. C. is absolutely fascinating to me. No matter how hard I try to ignore that, I feel drawn back to her like iron filings to a magnet. And, honestly, it’s been a while since I’ve really felt that way.
All of which frightens me a bit.

You know, it’s hard being a cynic who’s also a closet romantic.
Now, I’m sure this will make LK less than happy when she reads it, but, then she took off at a dead run for Denver and only told me afterward and life goes on. Anyway, I’m really into this woman and I’d rather not mess it up before it even gets started. I rarely ask my blog readers for help in my personal life, but, these are extenuating circumstances.
So, ladies, any advice about what to do, or not do, so I don’t blow this?

Uh-oh…

The new receptionist, C., has found my personal kryptonite: short, plaid skirts.
I’m the “phone guy” at our office, as well as the “computer guy”. Basically, anything that has an LCD display, or larger, on it is my responsibility. C. has been after a headset for her phone since we changed to the new system. I got her a wireless headset, which arrived yesterday. The instructions said to let it charge over night, so we did and this morning, she called me to see if we could get it working. So, I found myself standing next to her, trying to ignore how nice her hair smelled, when I saw plaid in my peripheral vision.

I’m sure the skirt was meant to be “Christmasy”, since it was done in bright, Christmas colors. And, I’m sure she had no idea how she was effecting the men in the office. (Hey, let’s face it, I’m not the only guy in the world who has a thing for short, plaid skirts!) In any case, I noticed the skirt, shortly after I noticed the auburn highlights in her hair, and, immediately, my marriage training kicked in. I instantly focused on her eyes. I think in time to keep from getting caught, but those female types are inscruitable, so I’m not absolutely sure. From then on, there was a little voice in the back of my head that kept screaming “Look her in the eye! For Christ’s sake, look her in the eye, man!” I think I covered any skirt/leg oogleing well enough with a string of small, situational jokes. At least, she was laughing at all the right lines, so, it seemed good.

Oh, and that whole “not just another pretty face” thing was reinforced when she recognized that the symbol on my golf shirt was not a “sideways eight”, but, in fact, an infinity symbol. Great legs and a well-rounded cerebellum. Yep, it’s hard to not be attracted to this one.
Hmm, I wonder if she likes Black Watch plaid…..

Thankfully, the chaos belongs to other people for a change.

So, my buddy, J., got his ring back yesterday morning. We have him on, more or less, suicide watch. I’m not sure how many nights he’s going to be hanging at Hoffman’s Home for Wayward Boys, and he may not spend the entire night, but I’m sure he’ll be over more than once between now and Christmas.
Here’s how it went down….

Saturday night, J. stayed home from church because he wasn’t feeling well. And, in fact, we talked earlier in the afternoon about that and how the anitbiotics were draining him and making him feel even more depressed than normal. We also talked about getting fitted for tuxedos next weekend, in preparation for the wedding and as a show of good faith to L., J.’s fiance, that he was committed to the wedding. So, when he didn’t show at church, I didn’t think much of it, but I also noticed that L. wasn’t at church either, which was a bit worrying, considering the tender state of affairs with the wedding and their relationship. Ironically, I ended up sitting with J.’s last ex-fiance, who’s been through her own wedding announcement only to have it called off for reasons unknown to the general public. I have my own speculations on that, but nothing concrete. She was having a rough evening, too, but I managed to coax a smile out of her.

I may not have many talents when it comes to the opposite sex, but making them laugh seems to be chief amongst the ones I do seem to manage.

In any case, after church was over, I called over to see what J. was doing for dinner and he let me know that L. was over and they’d just had dinner. By then, I was outside in the parking lot and realized that I didn’t really feel like going to dinner with anyone, so I zipped home and indulged in a little Mickey D’s along the way. And, to be honest, at this point, I figured things were pretty well on an even keel with the two of them and the wedding and all. No worries, right?

Not quite.
I usually sleep late on Sunday, having been to church the night before. But yesterday, I got a call a little before 8:00am that woke me. I’m sure J. had been staring at the phone, waiting until it was a “decent hour” to call for some time before that. He tells me he’s still depressed and afraid to get married. He tells me that L. has suggested that he look at some other unresolved issues that might be causing his depression and the implication is that he’s still got cold feet about the wedding. He tells me that he thinks all the doubt is telling him not to get married yet and that he doesn’t love, really love, L. He tells me that she’s on her way over to “talk” and, probably, give the ring back.
He asked if I’d stay with him on the phone until she got there. Naturally, I just kept talking with him while I let the dog out, got a cup of coffee and pulled on a robe. When she arrived, J. told me he’d call after they were done.

That turn of phrase ended up being a little more prophetic than one would suppose.
They do, indeed, seem to be done. After a several hour “talk”, wherein she actually sung his praises, the poor bastard, she returned the ring. Sadly, because she adored him so much, now, the possibility of them remaining friends is, well, not very good at all. Seeing him that way would be too painful for her. Just like J. seeing K. when she made the announcement about her engagement, even though that, too, has been called off.
The really heart-breaking thing for me, however, was when J. sobbed into the phone that he might have just made the biggest mistake of his life, that maybe he did actually love her after all. I’m fairly certain that all I could muster was “Aw, dude…” What can I say in the face of that sharp a personal tragedy? Not content to ride it out, he’d done the worst thing and made a decision. A decision he’s not happy with having made. At least I had the presence of mind not to tell him that he really “screwed the pooch” on this one.
Besides, I’ve mellowed with age.

Now, I’m sure a part of him was thinking he could do better, but, really, I don’t think he could have.  She isn’t the thinest, tiny-waisted thing, but her curves looked just fine.  And, she was patient enough to have gone through this for more than two months, back and forth, which is more than anyone should have to endure.  She’s also smart as a whip and was as caring and solicitous of his friends (ie. me) as a guy could ask for.  But, now, she’s gone.  Poor guy.  I suppose only time will tell if this is a permanent thing or not, but, frankly, I don’t think he can crawl long enough, or low enough, to get her back at this point.

It’s going to be a long week for both of them.

Advice from your Uncle Jim:
"We are what we think. All that arises is with our thoughts. With our thoughts we make our world."
   --Buddha