Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Memo: FWABs, clone thyselves

Last night, rather last-minute, I helped my friend B pack up his studio apartment.

He was only moving across town, so no hard-core boxing or carrying sofas, just throwing stuff into garbage bags. Two closets of clothes and 18 dresser drawers of socks, t-shirts, clarinet reeds and unpaid bills.

This was beneficial for him -- he needed the extra hands. This was more than beneficial for me; after a cranky day at the office I needed an outlet that involved throwing stuff.

More than anything, it was cathartic for 2 busy friends who don't hang out enough. We were overdue to dissect our loves and loves lost. I talked about my weekend dates. He talked about his girlfriend.

(I still contend that talking about one's romances with the opposite sex gets the angst out better than any other therapy session. I think B finds similarly, since this is our most frequent conversation when together.)

While wrapping things up, one of B's musical acquaintances came by. I knew who he was, but we'd never before met, so we made introductions and he and B started talking. Then the acquaintance turned to me:

"So B has told me you're a musician...."
Before I could explain any part of my pianistic talents, B interrupted:

"No, no! This isn't V...."
Of course. The acquaintance had thought I was B's girlfriend V -- a professional musician not there because she was playing a concert. Was it because I was simply there and a woman? Or do B and I, who on occasion exude old-married-couple banter, give the vibe of being together?

We all chuckled about it, I explained myself, and the conversation moved on. But it reminded me of a walk I took last Friday with my friend, A , a happily married woman who (along with husband C) regularly subjects herself to my woes.

On this Friday, A listened to an exhausted, overscheduled unmarried woman who was frustrated with everything about being an exhausted, overscheduled unmarried woman trying to date exhausted, overscheduled unmarried men. After some 30 minutes of my monologue, she stepped back:
A: "So I have a question. It seems like these guys you've been dating are nothing like your guy friends. C and I both wonder that."
Cynical and in no mood to be trifled with, I replied:
K: "A, believe me. If my guy friends or guys like them actually wanted to date me, I certainly would be dating them."
But of course. A, as always, has a point.

Nonetheless, I don't have any current FWABs who I could date anytime soon.

Where are their doubles? Stat?

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hey Karin, I really sympathize!! I've done the dating thing (and the ranting to friends thing) for many many years. Am now 37 and in a great relationship that looks like it's heading towards a ring. The change came with a book, that has a title that disturbingly implies arrogance yet rings so true at the same time: "If I'm so wonderful, why am I still single?" Made me rethink all of my choices, my past relationships, identify the patterns, and reorganize my search (including a fundamental rewrite of my online profile). I made the initial mistake of skipping the chapter about commitment-phobes because I never really met one before and thought it would be obvious. Of course the next guy I met (who fit ALL the other criteria set with the help of the book) was one (completely not obvious if you don't know what to look for) - as I quickly realized when I went back to the book, wondering why this isn't working... So my advice is - if you read it, don't skip any of the chapters, no matter how obvious they seem :) The next guy I met online after that is the guy I am still with, and it's fabulous. The best relationship of my (and his) life. So the book is highly recommended :)

Marvel Boy said...

I am as impressed by your writing as I am by your committed posting ... you inspire rookies like me.

Karin said...

Thanks, Anonymous. I tend to avoid self-help books....for no real reason....maybe lack of patience. Although there is obviously merit....! Congrats on your success.

@fire pan. I appreciate the vote of confidence. The secret is, when you don't feel like writing, to go super short. (although I know your writing--fine in its own right as well--and I know that might be a difficult edict. :-)