Jury Duty…

I am confused right now. I am a fine, upstanding citizen of the United States of America in other words very patriotic, American, heck Pro-American, anti-anyone who is against our democracy and the USA. I am no plumber and I defintely don’t qualify to be Joe Six Pack, who is the poster boy of all things good, wholesome and American, just like warm Apple Pie. I wonder if I am truly all that patrioitic, all that American, since I don’t live in the right rural community, in the right state, work the right down home job, drive a F-150 truck with my riffle mounted on the gun-rack, and none of my immediate family members ever served in the military.  I think no one person can define what is American because it’s a mixture of so many different elements. So forget what you heard the candidate say, despite my affinity for riesling, my japanese engineered automobile, my ivy league education, my city address and my fear of gun’s, I’m definitely Pro-America. How do I know? I had jury duty today and it was like Christmas Day for a five year old.

This morning I got up before my alarm went off and immediately got out of the bed no snoozing for me. I was GEEKED, PSYCHED, EXCITED, THRILLED or any other expression of sheer glee that you would use to describe happiness to the third power. I was hungry, I was motivated and ready to lend my impartial judgment to needy plaintiffs and defendants. I ironed my clothes last night, I don’t even do that for work. I was hoping that I would wind up on a jury for a wrongful death or some divorce settlement case that would take at least a week or two.

I was dressed and out the door in twenty minutes. As soon as I got on the expressway I maneuvered into the hov lane. I don’t generally break the law, but I had to ensure that I parked and reported to the courthouse at 8 am. After braving the shuttle, the long lines, the secuity check point (don’t want to have another Brian Nichol’s outburst), and finding my way to the juror room, I was ready to perform my civic duty of providing my fellow american citizens the right to a trial by jury.

Once everyone checked in they showed a video, feauturing Brenda Wood as narrator, that explained what to expect and why jury duty was important. Next two judges came in to thank us and convey the invaluable service we were providing our community. Then the waiting began. I was anxious so I kept shifting in my seat. The men sitting on both sides of me kept looking at me. I smiled and told them both that I was excited to be there. They both just kind of grunted and one got up and moved to another seat. The juror room contained both State and Superior Court prospective jurors. The Superior Court clerks were clearly organized and started calling names as soon as the judges left. I of course was summoned by the State Court who didn’t seem to be as prepared and were slow to get their list of names together.

After about an hour the State Court clerks started calling names. I was in the third set of names that they called. I sntached up my belongings and headed to my designated court room. When I arrived they lined us up in the numerical order that our names were called and then we filed into the court room. Once inside the lawyers asked questions and we raised little numbered fans to indicate our response to the questions. After they finished their questions, they started to ask individual questions starting with juror number one. They got through about 16 jurors and then the judge requested the lawyers to apporach the bench. She then told us that they probably had enough prospective jurors  and so she dismissed the rest of us. I was sad, but I was confident that I would return to the juror room and get selected for anouther case. Wrong! After waiting for about 45 minutes they called my name separately. I thought perfect they want to put me on a special case. Instead they told me that I was free to go. WHAT!?!?! I wanted to be there so I told the clerk, “No, you can’t dismiss me. I really really really want to be selected for a case.” She just replied “Ma’am, you are free to go.” To which I replied “Are you serious? There must be something else you can do, just give me one more chance. I really want a case.”  She just looked at me and then asked “Are you okay?” I smiled and said “Yes, I am perfectly fine.”  She then smirked and said “You are probably the only person who wants to be here today. Oh, you know you can vote across the street if you like, but we have selected enough people so you are free to go.” Her tone made it clear that our discussion about this jury business duty was done. So I frowned and turned to walk away. Then she said “Don’t feel bad, they will call you back in about 18 months I will make sure of it.”

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The Mistress…

I went to the movies last night to see the Duchess. It’s a great movie, and when I say great I mean that in a I thought the actors did a great job of portraying the life and disturbing marriage of Georgina Cavendish, the Duchess of Devonshire. The Duchess had hoped to have a marriage filled with love, devotion and conversation that lead to a connection with her husband. Unfortuntaely her marriage was no fairy tale and there was no love, no passion and definitely no conversation, just duties and responsibilities to be fulfilled. Clearly her role was to secure the duke’s lineage by producing a male heir. It should be noted that initially she has children just not boys. 

 

While on vacation in Bath, to receive “ treatments” to treat her lack of male heirs, she befriends Bess. In the movie, she approaches Bess after she watches her husband speak to her at a party. Why she chooses to befriend a woman she knows her husband is attracted to is a mystery to me. It’s plain, poor decision making in my mind. I suppose the two forge a relationship based on unhappy marriages. Plus, Bess tells the Duchess a sob story about being beaten by her husband and not being able to see her children. The Duchess must have been moved by the story because she invites her to come live with her family. Poor thing was bored, wanted company and needed a friend, but that does not excuse another act of poor decision making. If you see your man trying to hollar at a another woman you do not let her into your home. Bess moves into the house and from the minute she gets there she is scheming. The Duchess learns that Bess can’t be trusted when arrives home after a political meeting to hear the shrieks and panting of the two in the duke’s room. She is heartbroken and demands that the duke send Bess away, but he responds that this is out of the question. So now her husband’s whore, sorry mistress, is posted up chilling at the crib. Bess even moves her three little boys into the house. What is absurd is that they all sit at the same table and eat dinner together. It is mad. I could not even imagine the heartache, grief and misery The Duchess must have had to cope with daily. However, it got me to thinking would I rather have my man’s mistress under the same roof or be tormented by knowing he was having an affair with another woman?

 

Should the mistress be a mystery?

 

I am a firm believer that men are only as faithful as their options. I also believe men cheat, unless they have a solid relationship with God. Therefore in my mind MOST men cheat. So would I rather know and live with the competition or wonder who she is, what she looks like and what my man sees in her? It’s kind of like Hef and his girlfriends, these girls know the name and face of those competing for Hef’s attention. Maybe this knowledge is comforting, but I often wonder what type of self esteem issues Holly, Bridgette and Kendra are battling with and whether they receive therapy.  However, maybe it is nice to know. Instead of wondering where he is and what he might be doing, I would know exactly what is going on and how frequently. I believe that perfume on jackets, make-up on collars, hushed phone calls, lonely nights, unexplained absences, inattentive love making and distance definitely have to be worst. There is comfort in what you can see and feel. The unknown and the unseen are way more scarier since your imagination takes over. I would also much rather be on my own turf so I can keep an eye on her. She might prove to be useful and helpful with managing the household. Who knows she could be great at scrabble and be very interesting and entertaining. I mean if my husband likes her I might as well. I also wouldn’t have to worry about losing any beauty sleep tosing and turning from anxiety over my husband, I bet I would sleep like a baby.

 

The worse case scenario would be I didn’t like her. I think that I can pretty much get along with anyone so I don’t think this would be a problem. Issues might arise from jealousy on my part and not wanting to share. I am selfish and I want what I want when I want it. Not being able to see my husband on my schedule would cause complications to the arrangement. What if somehow my husband started to prefer her over me? Oh that would surely cause confusion and then I would have to leave. So I don’t think that knwoing the other woman or moving her into the house would work for me after all.  I do hope that my husband has a close, solid relationship with God.

Get off my phone…

I do not answer my cell for numbers that I do not recognize or aren’t programmed into it. I will occasionally answer a number that looks vaguely familiar, like a zip code I used to stay in or a neighborhood where relatives live. This is what happened yesterday evening when I answered my cell. It vibrated and I looked at the exchange and thought hmmm who is that? So I answered.

“Hello!” The voice at the other end replied.

“Hi.” I paused to give the caller an opportunity to provide a name or reason for calling.

“Is this Ursala?” I hate when people do this, it means either they have no business calling or they are trying to figure out the best approach to ask you for something.

“Yes it is.” I am now concerned because I have not been able to place the voice and have no idea who I am talking to.

“Good, how are you?”

“I’m fine, my I ask whose speaking?”

“Yes, this is M____ and I just found your name and number on my kitchen table. I’m wondering who you are and how I know you.”

“Huh? What’s that?” I was thinking why did I answer and who is this playing on my phone!?!

“I have a handwritten name and number on a piece of paper and since it’s on my kitchen table it must be significant because I keep important things here. It just ended up under some more important things that came up and I’m cleaning off the table.”

“Oh really, well what is your name?” Why I asked this question is beyond me, maybe I was bored, maybe I wanted to help solve the mystery, but I didn’t hang up I stayed on the call.

“M____”

“That name doesn’t ring a bell. I’m terrible with names. However you say you have a handwritten name and number? Hmmm.” What is ridiculous is that I was sitting there trying to place his name in my mental rolodex, but I couldn’t. I was thinking his story was weird but I didn’t get off the phone. I am slightly intrigued by the randomness of his call and approach.

“Well what is it written on?”

“A blank piece of paper.”

“Well I can’t place your name, what do you look like?” His response was the basic stats of just about every average male in my city. It certainly was not going to help me solve the mystery. So I then asked “So what do you do?”

His next response is not helpful either he responds that he is in the same field that I’m in.

I decide to dig deeper, I’m a detective now. I figure the stack is probably in some sort of date order since I got buried so I ask “Is the stack in some sort of order, when do you think you met me?”

“I think sometime last year around the end of the summer.” Aaha! I knew exactly who I was talking to. Plus I knew he didn’t think it he knew exactly when he met me and that’s why he called me. A little background. He was a quite striking gentlemen who I had about a two hour long conversation with outside of one of my favorite brunch spots. He caught my attention and then reeled me in with this harmonic convergence theory. It was something about significant moments happening and people meeting each other. It was some theory that was so random I thought it was really deep. The other point to mention is that I’m a talker. I can pretty much talk with anyone about anything if they are the least bit interesting. He told me that he thought we had some sort of connection. The length or depth of our conversation wasn’t significant to me because I have had long conversations with many strangers. I just thought he was gorgeous, I liked how his mind worked and he was confident.  I’m thinking this man knows exactly who I am. Instead of letting on that I know, I tell him that he is in the same industry I’m in, I travel and so it’s really impossible for me to pinpoint who he is. I then say “Sorry I can’t help you resolve the mystery of the handwritten number, but I hope you have a nice evening and finish cleaning off the table.” Not to be outdone or rushed off the phone he asks me what I look like and my background. I’m just as vague as he is and offer that I’m a native to the city we live in, and my university.

“Aaha!” His words, not mine. “I know exactly who you are. So why did we stop talking you were such a charming young lady?”

“Why thank you.”

“Why don’t we have lunch of dinner this week?”

I rolled my eyes and wanted to shout “Get off my phone!” and slam it down. However, you can’t do that with cells, you can only be civilized and click end. Men are too much. Now the question that I had was why he would go through all that just to ask me out…maybe he really forgot who I was, but I highly doubt it. I would have been much more receptive to “Hey, remember me Mr. Harmonic Convergence? How are you? Well I was thinking about you and our conversation and wondering if we could get together for lunch or dinner sometime, maybe discuss some other topics on our minds, what do you say?” It would have been perfect and I probably would have accepted. Instead I was irritated that he made me miss the last ten minutes of mad men and I had to rewind it.

I’m a voter…

I voted today. I was in the downtown area and I decided to brave the maze of government buildings to exercise my duty as an upstanding American citizen. For some reason I was overly excited about the idea of voting early. I hate lines. I am that person who will stand in line for twenty minutes, become frustrated and get out of line. I do think there will be record turn out, and I would hate not to participate in the process this year because of my impatience. It would be highly unacceptable and I didn’t want to chance it. This is the most important election in my twenty some odd years on earth.

 

I managed to find my way to the right floor and the right room, once there I had to stand in line to fill out a form. While standing in this line, I noticed that there was a wet paint sign on the railing near where we stood. I avoided the railing because of the sign. Less than two minutes later, a woman walked up and leaned against it. A woman standing next to her pointed to the sign, but she responded that she saw it. She moved away from the rail and of course there was paint on her shirt. She started cursing, so this caught the attention of one of the security guards. He walks over to her and she says “I got paint on my shirt, who is going to pay my dry cleaning bill?” First she had on a regular cotton t-shirt. Second the sign was clearly posted in plain view. So he looks at her then at the sign and says “Ma’am there’s a sign right there that reads wet paint, the paint is wet what did you expect?” She leans back as she crosses her arms then says “I didn’t smell no paint when I walked over here so I assumed that was an old sign.” She is clearly offended by his question, so there is an exchange between her and the guard. She says some other colorful things, but it’s not necessary to share them here. The point is she spoke English, she could read the sign and she decided to lean up against the railing anyway.

 

The form we had to fill out was to collect basic information. It was simple to follow and all areas we needed to fill out were highlighted. I get to the desk and the woman in front of me is fussing with the clerk telling her that one of the questions didn’t make any sense. There was a section on the form that requested that you check either absentee or advanced voting. Advanced voting stated that this only applied the week before the election. Absentee was highlighted, so it was clearly the box to check. The woman didn’t want to check absentee because she feels that it doesn’t apply to the situation because she isn’t going to be absent she just wants to vote early. The clerk tells her that although she may not think it applies it is the box that she must check if she wants to vote. They go back and forth, and the clerk keeps telling her if she wants to vote she has to check that box. Another guard comes over and tells the woman to stand to the side until they can resolve the problem. Lady, there are only two boxes, pick one.

 

After signing in, I sat down. For the most part everyone was pretty quite, but there were some loud ones in the bunch. So much so that the person reading off names, stops and says “In order for people to hear their names when they are called, we ask that you keep your voices down. Please keep your conversations to a minimum and I need for you to use your inside voices like you are in a library. Thank you.” After making her announcement she goes back to reading off names. Not even five seconds after this, one of the loud ones, a woman sitting directly behind me resumes her conversation using her outside voice. I couldn’t help, but turn around and look at her. Did she not just hear what was said? Clearly she understood it because she was speaking English, but she completely ignored it.

 

These people voted with me today and I am very concerned.

The Clintons

I was reading an article about whether Hillary Clinton would run for office again and it made me think back over the problems she has had with Bill over the years. It all started with Jennifer Flowers, that press conference was scandalously shocking. Do you remember Jennifer’s hair, it was a hair spray and teased creation? I doubt that Jennifer was the first and she certainly wasn’t the last, but it introduced us to Bill the philandering husband and Hillary the long suffering wife. Then it was Monica, the dress and the impeachment. Bill, come on now buddy. I was embarrassed for her and Chelsea. Hillary seemed to be unsettlingly calm about the whole affair, she probably had made peace with the fact that her husband wasn’t faithful long before we found out. She stood by her man, was cool and kept it moving. I think she was probably more concerned about the shame of it all and the distraction from the business of running the country. I don’t know if there were tears shed or if there were screaming matches in the secret recesses of the White House. I’m sure in their private moments she had ugly words for Bill, at least I hope so.

 

I know that at the time I thought she was insane for staying, but no one understands how a marriage works and why it works except for the two people in it. I understand now that people marry for many different reasons that may or may not make sense to bystanders. Bill and Hillary obviously aren’t concerned about anyone else and what they think. However, I thought that clearly their marriage was a sham and just a business arrangement. Whether or not this is right or wrong it works for them and that is all that matters.

 

My whole view was totally changed after watching the Democratic National Convention.  I sat down to watch Hillary deliver her speech, which was excellent, but I couldn’t help but notice Bill Clinton. They kept cutting to him before and during the speech. I describe it as an all out love fest. He was beaming the whole time, practically outshining the sun, just clapping and hollering it up. The pride, the adoration, the respect, the pain, the disappointment, the drama, the joy, the triumphs, the dreams and whatever else comprises their situation was all broadcast to the world. It was written across his face, included with his hand clapping, manifested in his smile and in his previously roving eyes that were locked only on her. The love in his heart gushed from every pore of his body and it twinkled in his eyes. I have never seen such sincere excitement and adoration from anyone’s spouse during a political speech in my history of watching conventions and speeches. He was like baby you did it and I love you. I believe that they truly love each other, or at least there is no doubt in my mind that he loves him some Hillary. She might just put up with him, but I am sure she knows she got em’ and that’s all that matters. She obviously is content with that.

Super Tight…

Slow motion moments really do exist in real life. I thought they only occurred in the movies, but sometimes things slow down to give you an opportunity to completely savor the moment. This is exactly what happened when I met him, the super tight one.

 

I was with friends enjoying a perfect summer afternoon. I was walking along and his striking profile caught my eye. I made a mental note of it, saw boy with beautiful profile at 5:02 pm. I kept moving and didn’t miss a beat, but I was praying that I would see him again. My prayers were answered while waiting in line outside the ladies room. This is about the only time in life that I was happy to be stuck in the lady’s room line. He started walking over and this is when everything slowed down. I couldn’t really hear anything except my own breathing. He sauntered over, but in slow motion giving me ample time to get a good look at every inch of his physique. I imagine that time slowed only for me, so I am sure he saw my eyes sweep over his frame. If it were appropriate and one hundred years ago I would have swooned and fainted from the sheer pleasure and delight of it. He arrived and introduced himself. His Name. Let’s just stop right there for a second. He had the coolest name I’ve ever heard. It’s right next to Vin Diesel, which might actually be the coolest name ever. His name is a pretty close second. This is where the tightness commenced. From that moment forward I was absolutely captivated with everything this man did and said. His voice, his smile, his laugh, his presence, his words, just the sum total of it all just left me totally impressed. He was terrific. He went from tight to super tight in just three dates. It was in this state, while basking in the rays of his super tight glow, that the spell was broken.

 

We had just left the movies and he had delivered me safely to my car. I asked him to jump in so I could take him to his car, but he declined and started to walk away. I said “It will be fine let me take you.” Honestly, I just wanted to spend a few more moments with him.  I wasn’t getting through to him, so my tone changed a bit, a little more boy get your tail in this car and less sugar plum please get in the car. At this he reluctantly walked over to my car and got in. Hold on, Wait. Do you know how children act when you ask them to do something they have no desire to do? They mumble, hunch their shoulders over and drag their feet to whatever the chore or task. This would be exactly how he walked over to my car and got in. Once we pulled out of the space, I asked where he parked his car. He was very quiet, he leaned the seat back and sighed. I thought it was all very strange, but I wasn’t really concerned. I asked again and he just pointed in a general direction.

 

When we were closer to his car he offered to get out and walk, something about my being close to the exit and it was a straight shot. I waved him off and asked which way I needed to turn. This is when his hands went to his head and I thought maybe I went too far. He was holding his head in his hands, when he suddenly turned towards me. He had this anxious look in his eye and said “I am really embarrassed about my car and I don’t want you to laugh at it.” What? But before I could say anything the expression on his face told me that he was serious, dead serious about this car thing. I just kept quiet. Then he started telling me about all the sacrifices he had made in life in order to start his company and this was why he had the car. I just looked at him speechless and in shock. I promised him that I wouldn’t laugh and that I was not the least bit concerned about his car.

 

Now I will admit that if he didn’t have a car then I would have had a problem, but I have a car so I am not concerned. Plus, I didn’t want to distress him more since he was already visibly disturbed. When I saw the car I did want to laugh, but not at the car, I was thinking he had an old cutlass or some kind of contraption that was barely legal to drive. It was a late model Japanese import, it was small, compact and sensible, not the ugly gremlin I was expecting. After seeing his car, combined with his agitation I was so unimpressed. I didn’t know how to deal with a grown man who would be that embarrassed about his car. I really couldn’t understand all the concern. I am not in high school. You are going to have to have more than a car to impress me. Actually some of the nicest cars I’ve been in have carted around the blandest simpletons or the most obnoxious egomaniacs, so I don’t date guys based on their cars. I also couldn’t understand after getting to know me that he would think I would be so shallow or judgmental. It infuriated me. I am not deep, but I am definitely not shallow. I understand wanting the better things in life, but it takes time to acquire the finer things in life. However, trying to hide, apologize or providing an excuse for what you have is not the behavior of a real man. In my mind it points to low self-esteem, a lack of confidence and extreme superficiality. I just don’t understand how someone so in touch with the world around him, so intelligent, profoundly deep, and creative could be so caught up with his car. He has such potential, but is concerned about the wrong things.

So what are your issues…

I watched P.S. I love you last night. It is not a great movie. Plus it’s weird to see Hillary Swank in a romantic role because she is extremely manly to me. I loved her in million dollar baby, but don’t buy her in love with a man. Okay, back to the point. So her friend Denise, remember Phoebe from Friends, is the best. When she meets guys she gets straight to the point. She is all “Hello, what are your issues?” In the movie it’s funny, but I started to think why not do the same in real life? Her questioning goes something like this,  

“Hi, I’m Denise. I love your tie.” She is all smiles and friendly.

Man responds with his name.

“Are you single?”

“Yes”

“Are you gay?”

“Yes”

After this response she turns on her heels and walks away.  She approaches the next guy in the same way. She tells him her name, compliments him and then starts with the questions. This guy she gets a little further with, but when she asks him if he is working and he says no, she shuts him down and walks off.

 

Thought this was like the best part of the whole movie, but it really got me to thinking if I should change my approach or better yet what questions I ask from the beginning. Not much sense in getting three dates deep into a situation and then realizing that you have wasted time on someone who is not up to par. I need to ask the important questions up front, during the initial meeting. Time is precious and my most valuable asset, so I need to know what I am dealing with out the gate.

 

However, I have to figure out what is the best approach. Depending on the situation, you either meet a man on the go or with time to spare. When on the go it’s you caught my eye, what’s your name, where are you from, what do you do, do you mind if I call you? You are basically going off whether or not you like what you see. When it’s with time to spare it’s the above questions along with so what do you do in your free time, where do you hang out, what area do you live in, do you like to travel, what reality show do you watch? You are able to get a better idea of whether or not you and the guy have a little chemistry and if you like his vibe.

 

Unfortunately, these aren’t the hard hitting questions that need to be asked. These questions just establish if the person is cool enough to spend additional time getting to know. I don’t generally ask someone if they are single because I assume if they aren’t they would not be approaching me, but life has taught me that this is foolish. So maybe the questioning should start with are you single, are you gay or bisexual, then dive into have you ever been married, and if yes are you divorced, do you have a roommate, have you ever been to jail or convicted of a felony, have you ever showed up at someone’s house unannounced, has anyone ever placed a restraining order on you, why did your last relationship fail, do you believe in monogamy, do you have multiple sexual partners during the same time period, do you have any addictions, do you like yourself, are you a democrat or a republican, do you and your mother get along, are you suspect of all women? I think these could all be asked within three minutes if you request a yes or no response in advance. I am sure there are other important questions that should be asked initially, but this is a work in progress. I need to develop a set of real questions for the initial meeting. I generally use a slow drip approach divided between the initial dates, but no more.

 

I wonder if asking so many questions will make men uncomfortable? I am more concerned as to whether or not a man will answer these questions truthfully. A friend of mine was telling me how on her first date with a guy they played truth or dare. During the game a lot of personal questions were asked, and at first she felt strange, but then she thought he doesn’t know me so why be shy and she just opened right up. I hope I get the same results.

 

I am going to do this tomorrow when I go out, and I will report back with my findings.

No chaser…

I’ve have recently started to think that maybe I am truly the problem in my pursuit to have a male companion. If I am the common variable in all the equations, then just maybe U=Ursala is what’s messing everything up. It’s not them, it’s me. Eureka! The first step on the road to recovery is admitting that you have a problem. At least for our purposes today I am going to accept responsibility for being the problem. For so long I thought it was them, but maybe just maybe it really is me. I’m the person with the issues. The men are just fine. I am the one who is unreasonable, unrealistic, selfish, impatient, emotionally unavailable, shady, needy or anything else I have accused some man of being. Over the years, I have been told many things about myself and if it’s negative I generally just shrug it off and laugh. Those silly HATERS, lol. However, there are some comments I have heard consistently about my behavior, and maybe all these guys know each other or I might be what they say I am.  

 

I’ve been seeing a guy for the past couple of weeks that I previously knew. I like him, I like him a lot. I have gotten a lot of feedback over the years some solicited some of it unsolicited and in an effort to be better since I know better, I have started to make some modifications in how I act and speak to him. I want to be more accommodating less it’s my way or the highway. I want to be more understanding and less n@gro please. I want to be more warm bosom to rest his weary head on and less you better man up. I have even apologized for telling him that I would call him on my way home one evening and failing to do so. I do not say I am sorry. Things happen it is what it is, but my silly affections got in the way of my better judgment and I apologized. I want him to like me, so I try.

 

So on Friday we discussed getting together on Saturday, maybe having brunch or dinner. We didn’t make specific plans, but we agreed to see each other. Well when I woke up on Saturday my mother called to tell me that my cousin was having her fourth birthday party over my aunts. I also had to help a friend get her mother settled into her new living space. So needless to say I had some unexpected things to do, and my day quickly got away from me. We agreed to get together, but we never said “Hey we are going to do “fill in the blank” at “any time”. When I contacted him I was all breezy and light.

Me: Hello : )

Dude: Hi I thought I would have heard from you earlier

Me: Just getting back to the city…(I told him about my day and then followed with)…but I want to see you.

Dude: I’ve been wanting to 2cu2 but unfortunately that never materialized

Me: Why didn’t you call me?

Dude: U said you were going to call me. I like you but I won’t chase you.

 

I just got a text full of attitude. It’s not that serious to be me, but now everything is immediately escalated in my mind. I was completely caught off guard. I didn’t know the appropriate let’s be kind and understanding response.  I am like what does chasing me have to do with anything. When did vague plans that don’t materialize, followed by someone requesting an audience and asking why the person just didn’t call, turn into chasing. Did I miss something? When is a phone call the equivalent of chasing? You don’t hear from me so call me. Anything could have happened to me, I could have been stranded somewhere, what if my phone died, or I could have had a death in the family? I viewed his response as purposefully not reaching out because I said I would call. This is so ridiculously childish. I don’t believe his response or actions are those of an individual who is interested, those are the actions of an individual who is so caught up in being right that now we are both unhappy. And for what? So you can teach me a lesson since clearly you are irritated. I’m unhappy and he is trying to prove a point. Arghhh!

 

Just call. If I don’t answer leave a message.  Show some initiative, show that you can do more than just wait around obviously catching an attitude because someone didn’t call you. Why is it in my mind that if I don’t hear from someone I will call them. I  know texting, the devil, is the new way to communicate, but if it fails, cause sometimes oh so important text don’t get sent and wind up in the outbox, a plain old fashioned phone call may do the trick and get the desired results. However, this not calling business has been a sore spot with other people in the past. I know that I am notoriously bad for not returning phone calls, sometimes I just forget, sometimes I am doing something better or sometimes I just don’t feel like talking, but it is not nice to tell someone that you will call and then you don’t. If they are waiting around on my phone call I can see how they can start to feel sad inside and become a little grumpy with me.  

 

So I resisted the urge to send some kind of smart response and decided that a nice simple response would be best.

 

Me: You are right, I got caught up and completely lost track of time, but I still want to see you.

Dude: I want to see you too, what do you want to do

 

Ah, success.