Dateline: View of the Office 4/29/11

Taking lunch in Copley Square

I find

I love my building

when the sun is shining.

Too deep

It was after 12:15 and 2 beers that I spoke with Piano Man last night, at his request, our first conversation since Holy Thursday.  We went through the litany of our respective weekends and the day just ended, after which I branched into a tale about a former love interest.  (One of those times that, when I'm buzzed on high-test stout, it seems essential to spare no detail.)  Piano Man, to his credit, murmured assents, commented, urged me to continue.  After which I felt sheepish for launching into Karin's Greatest Story Ever mode.  And thusly declared, "OK!  Your turn!  Tell me a story of a love lost!"  To which he hemmed and hawed (even clearing his throat) and suggested he did not feel like sharing at present and pointedly returned to subjects we have already worn well -- purchase of a keyboard,  rehearsal schedule for the show, his addiction to his local wine bar, and if I've recovered from my cold.  AKA, we headed back to the surface.  Fair enough -- I had brandished my past lover without him asking, but as a way to share an experience that has made me me.  I thought.  Which I figured if he likes me as he says he likes me, he would want to know.  I similarily want to know more about him.  Is this not how it works?  The deflation was so acute it pinged in my stomach.  His sudden discomfort, equally so.  Perhaps he and I are at that point where avoiding the depths is stagnating. 

Day 26 of 30:  3.0 miles

Day 27 of 30:  4.8 miles

April Total:  58.21

2011 Total:  212.2

An expensive Tuesday

I was in bad shape last week, what with rogue illness and 6 consecutive nights of rehearsal.  Then Friday came and was good, and Saturday I did yoga for the first time in forever and slept a lot, and Sunday was cool. Which means I started this week with a calmness I haven't felt in forever. Didn't silently curse one person yesterday. Or gripe about either another rehearsal or the $20 for 5 gallons of gas last night. And didn't get cranky when 5 men I went out with or otherwise planned to date in the last year used the holiday weekend to say hello again, per the routine. (Boredom, nostalgia, latent desire .... how the urge to reconnct always strikes simultaneously.) It's calm. Which came in handy this morning when my mechanic called to say, "Well, we've got your car up and you need upwards of $1000 in repairs before you can renew your inspection sticker and you wouldn't dare drive this without them," and I paused and then replied, "Oh, well, OK, I guess I expected it, so go ahead," and thanked him as I hung up and logged-on to Citizens Bank to raid my savings account. Don't know who, or what, to thank for the calm. Probably won't try to analyze it, because it does feel good for a change. Might just focus on continuing to stay so.

Day 25 of 30: 3.31 miles

April Total: 50.41

2011 Total: 204.4

A cool Sunday

Easter is cool for lots of obvious reasons.  (Like eating a Hershey's kiss after surviving 40 days without chocolate. The Resurrection of Jesus. Organ and brass. Tulips.)   It's cool in my world mostly because it is the day of the year that I am most surrounded by friends in feasting and celebration.  Which is why it nearly pains me to say that the coolest thing that happened to me on this cool day was that I was at a party at which the host's garbage disposal went on the fritz and a guest at the party knew how to find the manufacturer-provided allen wrench and the reset button to fix it in 2 seconds, after which I went home and found the manufacturer-provided allen wrench and the reset button to my garbage disposal that has (I thought, anyway) been on the fritz for the last 2 weeks and I fixed it in 2 seconds, which means I don't have to tell my landlord that I screwed up yet another appliance, because I didn't.

Sometimes it's the littlest things.

Day 24 of 30:  4.16 miles

April Total: 47.1

2011 Total:  201.9

A good Friday

I needed a day off like no one's business.

I also really needed to throw a frisbee, I guess.

Good thing Joshua was available, then, on my day off.

We met mid-afternoon at The Globe for beers, sandwiches and political small talk, then walked over the Common.  Hundreds, if not thousands, of other people had the same idea, but that's when you're grateful that the local park was once a cow pasture:  there's open space for everyone.

We staked out a triangle of grass and after a few warm-up tosses, got down to business.  The temperature was below 50, but it was sunny, and after 5 minutes, we were both down to short-sleeved t-shirts.  We threw that frisbee for an hour.  We threw it hard.  We threw it over the heads of small children and Japanese tourists stopping between us to take pictures.  We caught about 70% of what the other person threw.  We ran forwards and backwards and did balletic gazelle leaps (Joshua) and once tripped flat down (that was me) and jammed fingers on hard tosses.

Joshua had to leave for his evening plans at 5, and after he went I sat on the grass by my tipped-over bike to catch my breath.  It was only then I acknowledged that, for that hour, I had thought about nothing but hanging out in the Common with my buddy on a sunny afternoon and throwing and catching that frisbee.

For so many reasons, folks, that's plain heaven.

Single. (Not trying not to be single.)

Justin of New Jersey is busy these days, especially with preparations for the impending arrival of he and his wife's first child in June.

But he was game to keep me company on Gmail over lunch today.  Solving the problems of my life, which he does well when in Cheerful Producer of the World mode, like he is right now.

Perfect on a a day when I'm saddled with a throat (that ostensibly feels as if it is) coated with glass shards. Which kept me up most of last night looking for the cool side of the pillow and a neck angle that didn't cause further coughing.  Which made today a joy.

Which is another reason I'm just going to let the conversation speak for itself.  I'll work how to make this blog more "not trying not to be single" at a later date.

Karin:  So, questions.What should I get J & J for their wedding?

Justin: Hm....They register somewhere?

K:   And -- I have to RSVP by April 30. Should I proactively RSVP with a guest, even though I have no one?

Justin: Will you know alot of other people at the wedding?  B/C I actually have some feedback about this RSVP thing.

K:   Eh....probably 3 or 4 others. I know their families ... What's your feedback, oh sage?

J:   Well, if you know people (fairly well)...then it MIGHT be best to go alone, depending on WHO you might take.  I just went to a wedding and sat around a table with high school friends and spouses, SO.  There was this one girl there who brought her 3-wk old boyfriend of sorts with her.  A totally awkward evening for him, and sometimes for the rest of us.  Once a guy knows where he stands with a woman (both in his mind and from her point of view),  then he feels comfortable.  B/C you definitely don't want to have to babysit someone...

K:  Sigh.

J: Maybe not the best answer...

K:  Just saying that going to a wedding alone for the umpteenth time and having to figure out all my own small talk is ..... preemptively exhausting.

Justin: Yup.  I mean, you could do a +1 and if you have the right invite... you'll know.

K:   I know. But I don't even have a prospect at the moment.   Man in NY doesn't count.

J:  Ha. I know.  I know....

K:  I think I need a desert island, an unlimited library and an unlimited supply of cosmopolitans and peanut butter.  That sounds better than anything I've got on my plate right now.

J:  Sounds pretty good to me too.  Hm... This information about that whole depression thing ....  I think the fact that your blog and life intersect so much can't be the healthiest. I think a "spring cleaning" is in order...:)

K:  You're most certainly probably right.

J:  I think, seriously that you could focus on the SINGLE part. Not so much the TRYING NOT TO BE SINGLE (on your blog) not necessarily your life.   :)

K:   Don't I already do that?

J: I don't think so.  Do you?   Maybe I've been misreading? :)  I'll have to go back and re-read some of my favorite posts.

Day 19 of 30:  2.45 miles

April Total:  39.59

2011 Total:  193.58

Quandry (I think)

Last night I started a load of laundry, did a short run, put a chicken breast on to saute with some onions and mushrooms, and called Piano Man at 11:22 for a phone date. We hung up at 2:38.  I had to get up for church this morning. He did not. He texted early this afternoon:

"Feel bad I kept you up so late.  Enjoyed talking though."

Whether it was the chardonnay I drank with my (very wee-hours) dinner, I also enjoyed talking. I recall being chatty. Piano Man, a good sport, indulged me as I talked about my hometown (Cando!) in North Dakota, my first job out of college in SW Minnesota (Pipestone!), my most recent Christmas Eve making sage risotto and breathing in incense for several hours at Church of the Advent. He in turn Googled to find reviews of the chardonnay (Bogle Vineyards) I was polishing off, which I indulged, amused by his seeming endless curiosity.

It was nearing 2 and we had transitioned into bedroom chat, at which point he said,

"I'm imagining right now how much more I'd enjoy this if you were here with me."

I thought that too, yes. Who wouldn't rather be kissing someone rather than talking over the phone about kissing? But I also thought, I can't say, really, that I know how much more I'd enjoy this. I've never watched his facial expression in response to a comment. Listened as he tried to sing and play "Ihr Bild" (Schubert). Had a chance to find out if affectations endearing on the phone are creepy in person. Or not. Kissed him.

I have no time to travel to New York in the next month to find it out, either, unless Piano Man figures out how to come here for a day. So we can meet in person.

And I can't figure out in the meantime, assuming our conversation continues, how much energy I should invest in him and not invest in other possibilities. Maybe I'm just not used to a man willing to talk to me about piano technique and wine varietals.  Who thinks about me on days after we talk and tells me so. Who called on Friday evening to say he was driving through Prospect Park, thinking of me, and just wanting to talk.

Maybe I'm just afraid to admit that we are indeed simpatico. Maybe I'm thinking that maybe if I just keep talking to him and have patience the answer will become obvious. Maybe he's a serial killer. Thrice-divorced and harboring moldy food in his cupboards. Talking to women in California, Montana and Vermont, too.

All questions I should ask. Although I don't want to assume this is serious. Or want to get emotionally tied up in something with no possibility. Or miss out if it is one. Or date someone who is 48. I don't think I have the stomach to start something that is long-distance from the get-go.

Yet I wonder if I should learn to have one, and try.

Or wonder if I'm being lame, idealistic, impatient or naive, or all of the above.

Day 16 of 30:  1.90 miles

Day 17 of 30: 5.51 miles

April Total: 36.99  

2011 Total: 190.93

Not exactly profound

But today was (finally) a spring day.

And there are so many reasons this song is a metaphor for spring.  Its promise of hope and possibility, among them.

(Which is nice to feel, from time to time.)

You may be watching from a safe distance
You may be so close you can taste the blood
You may have headed for higher ground
You may be drowning in the flood

No matter what you do
Love will find you

You may have lost what little faith you have
You may believe with all your heart
You may be pulling yourself together again
You may be falling apart

No matter what you do
Love will find you

One of you sees that love's a long lost friend
One of you can't recognize her face
One of you runs to her with open arms
One of you falls down is disgrace

You may see a million different gateways home
You may think there's only one way through
You may be waiting for the kingdom to come
You may believe it's in you

No matter what you do
Love will find you

-- John Hermanson & Chris Cunningham, 2008

Day 14 of 30: 2.5 miles
April Total: 29.53

2011 Total: 183.52

(A**)-kicking

I last saw Bill in the flesh several months ago, on a 5-mile(psychotic) (running) tour of the South Boston waterfront on a black, icy, blustery January night.

It was definitely time to do a post-work run together again -- and besides, spring had arrived -- so he and I put another 5-miler on the calendar for tonight at 6:30. This time we're meeting at Artesani Park in Brighton and looping the Charles River for old time's sake.

It goes without saying that today ends up being the only night in a 2-week window that the weather is once again:

1) Black. As in blanket fog.

2) Icy. As in temperatures nearing freezing.

3) Blustery. As in blanket rain. As in all day. As in the kind that leaves ankle-deep puddles on the corners.

Besides, I've told you I'm tired and today I'm still tired. (This status refuses to change for some reason).

At 9 a.m., after walking 4 blocks across the Back Bay into the gale to work, I checked in with Bill. Kind of hoping he'd say, Um, yeah right, like we're going to run on the river and drench and muddy and chill ourselves. And that maybe we'd decide together to postpone it to the weekend. And maybe I could just go home after work tonight and sleep....

K:  Seriously. Drove in in a downpour.

B: It's going to be a wet run tonight. I brought lots of clothes to change into after.

K: Seriously. This is the only day we get rain this week….

B: Better than a heat wave.

And that was that. No rising to the bait. No acquiescing to my wimp-out. Which means I'm going to put on my windbreaker and Red Sox cap and go with my friend to catch a fiver. Probably a cold, too.

All because Bill and I are runners, damn it, and as a result, are gluttons for a good A**-kicking from time to time.

Which is probably good for our souls. Please let it be good for our souls.

Just pray we come out alive on the other side.

Day 13 of 30:  4.85 miles

April Total: 27.03

2011 Total: 181.02

Reinforcement

From a Gmail exchange, today, 10:45 a.m., with Piano Man:

(Who still lives in Brooklyn, who I still haven't met in person and might never and I wonder even if we did if e would have any chemistry, who I nonetheless communicate with daily, who is 40-plus but slings internet slang as guilelessly as a teenager, who is exhaustively opinionated about music, who scanned and sent me the Ferruccio Busoni transcription of Bach's organ chorale "In dir ist Freude" and has been asking ever since when I'll be not too tired or not too wimpy to try playing it.)

Karin: You awake?
Piano Man: depends what the meaning of "awake" is... ;)
K: I have set the bar low, so I'm sure you're over it.
PM: What I'm talkin 'bout
K:  I _think_ I got that. (see previous e-mail about the low bar)
PM: s'ok. have you had a chance to fool around w/ the Bach/Busoni (herinafter B/B) yet?  It's not so easy. But it rocks, as you know.

I do know. Do you? Here's a reminder both of how much it rocks and how not easy it is:

K: I haven't. I had to print it out at work, and it is sitting here on my desk. It actually makes me afraid. Tomorrow night, I have time and a night off, so perhaps I'll experiment with the futility of trying to play it.
PM: "afraid"? An intrepid NoDakian like you? HA!

IN·TREP·ID [ in tréppid ]

ADJ   fearless: courageous and bold

To recap:

I say, "I'm futile."

He replies, "You're fearless, courageous and bold."

Is there really any reason, even if we'll never meet in person, to rid myself of a correspondent with such powers of positive reinforcement?

Day 11 of 30: 1.57 miles

Day 12 of 30: 1.68 miles

April Total: 22.18

2011 Total: 176.17

A (good) tired

This morning
I live the tiredness
of the
too-social
too-much biking
too-much stout
too-much spreadsheet compiling
too-much not-sleeping
weekend.

As in,
I'm so tired
you can't convince me
that I actually
slept at all
since Friday.

(I don't have
a newborn baby
hiding in my apartment
keeping me up.

Or a man,
either.

I promise.)

So please forgive that
I don't
want to write
another word.

Day 9 of 30: 3.64 miles

April Total:  18.93

2011 Total: 172.92

50K Day

I wish
I could run that (31 miles) far
and
I wish
I could get that much tax refund
or
I could get that much of a raise
or
that many fewer people could be unemployed
in the US.
I wish
I didn't know
that Josh Beckett
makes more than that
per game
(pitched).

And sometimes
I wish
I had that many
blog readers
per day.

(Well, not really.
Because
that would mean
I'd really have to work at it.
And
you all know how much
I like to work at it.)

But
it's Friday
and
beer is in my near future
and
50K hits on my blog
(in 2 years and 5 months)
seems
worth a mention and
a happy song.
Even if
there's zero chance
Bach would have had blogging
on his mind
when he wrote it.

(And.

Sorry to have

yet another post be

not about

my dating life.

When it, such as it is,

restarts,

you'll be the

first to know.)

Day 7 of 30: 2 miles
April Total: 15.29
2011 Total: 169.28

Indoctrination (Redux)

My 2 nephews

live in Minnesota.

Their father Chad is a

diehard Minnesota sports fan.

But

since Henry was an infant 

(you might recall),

I have been trying 

to get him on the right foot

regarding his

professional sports loyalty.



Henry (4 weeks) - September 2008

Yeah. 

I know the Sox

(Beckett, even)

are tanking early this year.

So now

I'm working on his younger brother,

jumping on a different bandwagon

to do so.



Oliver (4 mos) - April 2011


Very nice that,

lately,

Oliver at least has

something to cheer for.

(Thanks, Chad,

 for your cooperation in this

auntly indoctrination.)

Day 6 of 30: 5 miles

April Total:  13.29

2011 Total: 167.28

Great Cosmo Challenge: Amusement

Today I'd like to write a post full of lists of dating advice take an opportunity to talk about a "find fun people!" extravaganza I signed up for, which promptly started

a) (surprise, surprise) spamming me with daily e-mails
b) pestering me every 3 days to pay a membership fee to join at a higher level and
c) is starting to grow on me, despite a) and b).

Since I have no doubt exceeded my allotted goodwill for talking about being melancholy, let me today reverse course and introduce you to:

4) How About We? (dot com)

Cosmo says: "Men with fun date ideas do exist, and howaboutwe.com is the fastest way to find them. Instead of posting a profile on the site, users explain their ideal date (e.g., 'How about we take a sushi-making class together?' or 'How about we kick ass at trivia night?'). When you see a date idea you like, just message the guy to make it happen."

Karin says: I put an inquiry into this site on March 14. Since, my Gmail account gets a daily blast telling what any random 5 men in the Greater Boston area have signed up to suggest.  Here's today's:

From a man who says his occupation is "monkey": How about we .... climb a tree and chill.

From a man who says his political views are "anarchist": How about we ... Go for coffee and see if we like each other, then I take you away to a secret museum and after we have crepes. Finally we have a drinks as I tell you another secret. Finally I do a tarot reading and find out if everything I imagine about you is true!

From a man whose profile pic is a pencil sketch of a smiley face: How about we ... gdgdg.

From yet another Jewish software engineer in Cambridge: How about we ... Invent names for abstract pieces of art at the ICA.

From a man whose profile is relatively nondescript: How about we: each pick a place that serves mulled wine, try 'em out, and see who made the better choice."

That's just today. Since I've been hanging around chatting with Piano Man pretty regularly the last couple weeks (which, I both anticipate and fear, is turning into a long story with uncertain ending) and otherwise maundering about, I haven't answered any.  Which maybe I should ... especially since a glance at past offerings shows a large number of men proposing to take yoga class together, and I have not been getting my yoga on lately as I should.

(Which might help with that whole maundering problem I'm having.)

Incidentally, I didn't mention my offering from the day I signed up which didn't get any hits before it expired:

How about we... ....enjoy the glory of Bach's incomparable B-Minor Mass as sung by The Cantata Singers and do a post-event critique over cocktails in the South End. (Which I ended up not even doing myself. In fact, that was the night of the Meet-Cute at Symphony Hall that ended with me crying in my beer for an hour.)

So Howaboutwe.com is also spamming me with bi-weekly advertisements for another feature of their website, "The Date Report." Usually these things annoy me more than tartar-removal sessions at the dentist, but I'm actually enjoying them. I'm thinking it's the no-nonsense unsentimentality of it, like today's heading:

10 Adventurou​s Boston Dates, Morning-Af​ter Etiquette, + How to End a Short Relationship

Which brought me links to advice titled

How Do You Break Up with Someone You're Only 'Sort-of' Dating?

Oh Sh-t! Is This a Date? 6 Strategies For Coping with Awkward Situations.

Dating Tips from Awkward Tween Pop Star Hopefuls

Which brought me views to links of past articles which such titles as:

8 Things to Wear on a Date to Impress a Geeky Guy

Vocab Lessons: British Dating Slang We'd Like to Adopt

Tell Me If You Think This Is Weird: I'm Totally Ok With Being Single And Know Valentine's Day Is A Made-Up Holiday But I'm Still Depressed

How Do You Know If She's The One? Watch Her Eat Corn.

I don't know what to do with it all.  But it's all very amusing.

Streets with names

I've been on my best behavior lately,

no longer losing my shit

at remembering that 

I've lost C-2 to the ether.

What sucks, though,  

is having rehearsal 

in his old hood

four days a week.

I'm cursed with this problem, generally,

upon losing lovers or friends

and being the one

left behind in that

the streets they used to drive

are still there

with the same names

and I'm still driving them.

A (Sort-of) Piano of One's Own

I've known 

how to play piano 

for 

32 years.

I've never
played a piano
that
belongs to me.

Today 

I played a piano 

that belongs to me 

because 

I bought one*

yesterday.

Finally.

For it's cherry-popping occasion,

I played 

Rhapsody in G Minor (Op. 79 No. 2) by Brahms .... 

straight through,

standing 

because it was 12:15 a.m. 

(and too late to figure how 

to adjust the stand height),

wearing headphones 

because it was 12:15 a.m.

(and I've got an upstairs neighbor),

playing the Brahms Rhapsody

because it's the only song on earth 

I play well

from memory.

It may be just 

a Korg digital keyboard 

(with headphones)

that has to be played standing up 

(for the time being),

but nonetheless 

(and I'm not really 

a materialistic person

I swear),

I'm pretty pumped.

(*Next up:  

a phone 

that takes better pictures 

than this one.)

Day 2 of 30:  6:29 miles

April Total:  6.29

2011 Total:   160.28

Incredulous.

Or thereabouts.

That about 11:30 last night, 2 Somerville local boys tried to pick me up, in tandem, at a new preppy bar in Davis. As I sat in yoga pants, running shoes and hair bristling with static, drinking Riesling and writing birthday thank you notes. They said they liked my glasses and my super-cheap-looking flip phone. They asked if I were addressing wedding invitations and if I might invite them. I wrote my name and (real) phone number on a blank thank you note. And let them take it.

That it snows. A lot. Big sloppy flakes, for the past 6 hours. And beyond the whole "it's April" thing, I actually can't stop watching it out my bedroom window. Instead of sleeping.

That leads to a small fact that yes, I have a personal training session at the gym in 4 hours and 42 minutes. For which I have to get up at 6:30 to digest breakfast, dress, pack a bag for work, and figure out the fastest manner to get there when, because it snows, I can't bike.

That I'm staying up this late a mere 14 hours after writing a screed about my newfound devotion to kicking insomnia.

And, perhaps most notably, that a main reason I'm still up is because of yet another planned phone chat with Piano Man from Brooklyn. How in the process of putting together a conversation of a more suggestive nature, he mentioned he was listening to a Brahms motet, O Heiland, reiss die Himmel auf.

(As in: Oh Savior, Rend the Heavens wide ... Oh God, pour down dew from heaven ... Ye clouds break and rain down ... O earth, break out ... That all mountains and valleys may become green ... )

Which couldn't help but be my favorite choir piece from college. After which he sent me the YouTube link and we then went on to talk about how the German tau means dew and how the passage at 1:57 is his favorite moment and how I could listen to the lead-in to Verse V a thousand times on repeat and how I haven't heard this version of this text in 10 years or more and I couldn't thank him enough for reintroducing me, and he thanked me back for talking with him about it.

That he and I are totally simpatico and he, naturally, lives in Brooklyn.

So, for this morning's scorecard. I've got:

random pick-ups
snow in April
a personal training session
no sleep
the best Brahms motet on the planet

but no man.

Five out of 6 ain't bad?