One of my acting teachers in college once said to me "for someone who has perfect timing on stage you sure do have terrible timing in life". On this particular day she was referring to the fact that I had put my dog and best friend of 16 years to sleep on the morning of the day we were to be taking publicity photos for our latest production. I don't know if Teresa jinxed me on that day or if she hit the nail on the head. But either way, as things stand, she was absolutely right.
In the spring of 2008 I met a wonderful man, The Marine, who made me believe for the first time since I was a little tom boy in pigtails that I would marry. He was terrific. Handsome. Intelligent. Ambitious. Good father material. There were a couple of problems though. The first being that he lived 4 hours from me and between both of our erratic work schedules we were bound to never see each other. The second involves timing. Just over a year prior to our meeting, he tragically lost his fiancee who had been serving over seas. Not really time for him to be thinking about settling down with the next woman to come into his life. I was, because of timing, the rebound girl.
Some time went by when serendipitous circumstances would lead me to fall head over heels for a man with whom I had previously worked. You know when you've known someone for a while and then suddenly you have this rush of feelings for them, like the blinds have been opened on a sunny morning? That's what it was like for this one almost immediately that first night. The night in which we realized at 5:30 a.m. that maybe we should consider saying "good night". You know that feeling. It was on that night that he told me he was separated. After 4 months of falling further and deeper in love with him (let's call him The Ramone because he lives and breathes by the band The Ramones), we both knew it wasn't fair to me that he was still hoping his wife would change her mind. Timing.
We are great together. I finally found someone who can compliment my kooky personality with his own antics, yet be sensitive and level-headed enough to reign me in should emotions get the best of me. I'm a rabid Yankees fan, and before The Ramone I'd never had someone in my life as passionate about the sport as I. This is a rare find in the arts community. Also raised in the Midwest, our morals and priorities seemed to be perfectly in line. I believe that I have already found someone to share my life with, but until he's ready for the next woman to share his, I can't just sit and wait! What if he never comes around? What if I am wrong as I have been so many times before? That's a chance I can't take.
Which brings us to now. I have been in my hometown for three weeks, and for a farm girl who has acclimated to city life, you can imagine I have had a lot of antsy time on my hands. And for me antsy time means time to mull over all of the garbage floating around inside my noggin! I spend a lot of time thinking about my Ramone but I'm ready to get back at it. Spring is in the air and I am ready for some action!
The idea came to me this morning while in the shower, where I do all of my important thinking. Why not devote an entire year to "the first date"? Not to finding the one. I think I did. But to spending some quality time with as many different men as possible. I'm the kind of woman who has no idea what she wants until she sees what it is she DOESN'T want. Whether it's curtains, skirts or men. So I am going to walk the aisles of the Men's Department until I've seen everything that is available to me. Then I'll head to the check out.
Next? The plan...
No comments:
Post a Comment