Buy me a Coke

I'm not sure what it is about talking about something potentially good too soon that makes many of us superstitious. Sure we've all been really disappointed and sure that disappointment feels a lot bit worse when it comes from a place of great hope but what is it that makes people like me want to cope with that by trying not to get excited about anything? By associating excitement with certain doom?

I talked to this guy yesterday. We talked for a few hours about mostly nothing. At times I felt like I was talking to myself but not in a good soul mate way, more like, who wants to spend the rest of their life with themselves way. He's the kind of guy I think I want to know because he could potentially be my Philly guy friend if nothing else. He's okay looking but nothing that gets me too terribly excited. It appears we're both cerebral and we both probably need to be with less deep, less serious human beings. He writes but he still makes the your/you're error. He's kind of dry and sarcastic like yours truly and I'm not sure how well we do with people who aren't going to find us absolutely side splitting. We're both merely amused with one another in the way craftsman admire each other's work. I feel mildly competitive with him. I'm pretty sure I'm funnier.

But a part of me is hoping for something else. Even though my father is a moron sometimes and cautioned me to not be myself but instead to be like my mom and trick him (which was a totally ninja insult by the way--cuts so efficiently in so many ways), I liked that I felt like I could be myself with this guy. Mostly because I didn't really care initially. I thought, ok, he winked at me, so I'll write him even though he seems to take himself too seriously and has a picture wearing one of those obnoxious scarves that remind me of Arafat. But I like that. I want to remain aloof. I don't want to get excited about him. Sure he's writing a few screenplays and loves sushi and is trying to learn Japanese. Sure I can see him getting along famously with my brother. Sure both his parents were in the service. Sure he doesn't have any kids and has a college education. Whatever. I mentioned him to my parents today (I KNOW, I KNOW-HORRIBLE IDEA), my dad was so-so about him until he found out he was black. Then my dad wanted him over for dinner this weekend. I swear he doesn't care if his son-in-law is not black but he so assumes I'm not going to be with a black guy, he gets excited when I'm even considering one.

So I've been getting a little excited just in case it turns out to be awesome. We've been chatting since I've been writing this post making plans for Friday night. If I know me, my dread will grow as the week progresses. It will be the shortest and longest week ever. So against my better judgement and all that I know about myself and the laws of the universe I belong to, I've gone ahead and jinxed this by mentioning it before anything at all happens. I'm sure whatever happens will be totally blog worthy. Stay tuned.