Even after the crummiest day, Matt Nathanson can make me smile!
I was thinking of leaving it at that--just the title and nothing else, but that wouldn't be very nice, would it? OK, it wasn't the crummiest day--not really. A bit disappointing, yes, but I've certainly had worse days. You see, there was this man that I met, ever so briefly, at the "Refresh" retreat in May. We hadn't had a chance to exchange more than a few words at the time and then he was gone, but a subtle connection had been made--a connection that had kept him in the forefront of my mind. For weeks I scanned the congregration at our Sunday gatherings, but to no avail. He had come to be known amongst my inner circle as "mystery man." And then, last Sunday night, there he was. There was a buzz in the air--a "vibe." A more solid connection was made. He asked for my contact info. Tentative plans were made. And then, the waiting began... On Monday I checked my email about a thousand times, hoping to hear from him. Nothing. Tuesday, still nothing. Wednesday came and went--still nothing. Then Thursday, the cell phone rang, I looked at the display, it was a restricted #. I answered it, guessing that it was probably a business call, and there was this newly-familiar voice on the other end of the line. He had some errands to take care of "in town" and wanted to know if I'd like to join him for an ice cream. It just so happened that I had a couple hours free, later in the afternoon, and so agreed. He was to call me ~4pm. Finally, about 4:30, the phone rang. "Hi, it's me." (Suddenly, we're on an "it's me" level of familiarity? OK.) I went to meet him at the mall, where he was clothes shopping. In _many_ ways, I am _not_ a stereotypical female. This is one of them--I am NOT a shopper. I patiently wandered around the men's dept. with him until we finally stepped out into the fresh air of a beautiful June day and headed down to the Village. By then I had noticed that he seemed rather fond of the sound of his own voice, and _he_ seemed to be his favorite topic of conversation. The fact that I was still exhausted from the mega-migraine I'd had the night before didn't really matter because all I had to do to keep up my end of the conversation was to smile and nod occasionally. We got our ice cream and strolled down the esplanade until we found an empty bench. We sat, looking out at the Pacific, and continued our conversation. That was going along nicely enough, until he asked me the dreaded question, "How old are you?" It is a question that I generally avoid asking, no matter how curious I am, because it is a question that I hate to answer. I'd really rather people take me for who I am and not place on me a judgment or evaluation of some kind, based on how many years I've been on this planet. But he asked, so I answered. I think I saw him mentally cross me off the list upon hearing my answer. Oh well, he seems to have a bit of growing up to do anyway. Nonetheless, it was a disappointment. I'd had such high hopes for this one, which is almost always a set-up for a let-down. C'est la vie!
Driving home, I listened to Matt Nathanson's live CD, "At the Point." That man can bring a smile to my face, even after a crushing disappointment. Thank God for Matt Nathanson. :)
posted by The Contessa @ 1:23 AM
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