Loveliest of the lovelies*:
Did you enjoy the holidays? I hope so. Mine were on the quiet side, but since I didn't fight with my dad--which used to be de rigeur during the holidays--I was perfectly content. (As I've said before, the fact that he and I are both on anti-depressants nowadays has helped us mellow the hell out.)
I do have a date later this week--a second date. With an older man. Who is quite foxy. And exceptionally sweet (without being a doormat). Let's call him Jacques Manray. (At some later point, perhaps I'll explain why he gets this name.) We first went out ... in ... January? Yeah. He asked me on a second date after that, but I declined because--despite the fact that he's quite sexy, and is a groovy artist (who is making a really good living pursuing his creative endeavors)--I hadn't felt an enormous connection.
I heard from him over email a few times after that, but eventually, we dropped out of contact.
A few weeks ago, however, we re-connected. My novelist friend D-Spech and I organized a little gathering for some of our single friends, and I thought, "Hey, that Jacques is such a catch and such a sweetheart that my friends should meet him--maybe he'll hit it off with one of them." So I invited him to come.
He wrote back, saying, "Maura, I'll come only if you promise me one kiss."
Is that all? Done!
Anyway, he showed up ... and ...
Well, I hope it's okay to say what I'm about to say.
Please note that I'm pretty sure I haven't said anything remotely like this before.
But this man, he didn't have eyes for anyone else but me that night. Which made me a little nervous and uncomfortalbe--as it always does. At the same time, I also found it wildly endearing--which I almost never do. (Maybe I am finally growing up a little?)
At one point, he asked me why I'd refused to go out with him a second time. I tried to demur, saying I wasn't sure, I'd forgotten, etc. But he insisted and insisted, till finally I said, "To be honest, I guess I just wasn't blown away by our conversation." Then I grinned apologetically, with a little sheepish shrug.
He laughed, and didn't seem offended at all. "Well, I guess I'll just have to do some extracurricular reading before I see you again, to make sure the discussion is especially sparkling."
At the end of the night, Jacques walked me out to my bike ... and we smooched and giggled under the light of the silver Brooklyn moon. He asked me if he could take me out to dinner at some point soon. I said probably.
The date, finally agreed to, is coming up later this week. And I'm looking forward to it! Though I'm also wondering if I will arrive only to find the tables have turned ... and I find myself totally enamored of Jacques, while he finds himself less interested in moi.
C'est la vie, after all.
We shall see.
In other news, are you guys familiar with the phrase "turkey drop"?
As in: Over Thanksgiving break, I dropped that turkey I'd been dating.
I was listening to NPR over the weekend, when I heard a funny little segment they did on this particular bit of urban slang, which was new to me. According to the show, one engages in a turkey drop--a holiday break-up--because he or she fears that if the dumping doesn't happen before the beginning of December, it may have to wait till the start of the New Year--or happen too close to Christmas, which could make it especially painful. Or--more commonly, it seems--the phrase is used by college freshmen who return home for their first big break and take the opportunity to cut ties with their high school sweethearts, having realized how much fun co-eds at institutes of higher learning can have.
Lovelies ... have any of you turkey-dropped? Have you been t-dropped? (And do you love this phrase as much as I do?)
*What do you guys think of this new salutation? I was reading a William Hazlitt essay the other day, and he throws that phrase out there ... I quite liked it.