Early Dating Quirk: Movie Edition

My trip to the museum for my just-for-me thing looks like it’s going to turn into a movie with a friend. I was taking a look at movies so that I could provide some suggestions about what we should see (World According to M Tip 1: When you are in a situation like this, go in with an idea of acceptable-to-you options, so you’re not starting from scratch. In this case, I know about when we want to go, about where in town we’d want to be, and some things about where my friend and I have interests in common. I also know what I am interested in seeing, and what I’m less interested in. Instead of starting with “oh, I don’t know, what’s out?” the conversation starts with “We could see this here at this time or there at that time, or we could try this other option at this time.” It’s less casual, but I find it less frustrating, as I’m a very decisive person but don’t like to steamroll others.) Our afternoon out is not a date (she’s married and we’re both heterosexual), but it got me to thinking about guys I’ve dated and their reaction to my movie-choosing protocol.

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Yard by Yard

Remember those cross-stitch samplers that said things like “Yard by yard, life is hard; but inch by inch, it’s a cinch!” They remind me of a particular friend’s living room, from when I was about nine.

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What Will the Neighbors Think?

So if you’ve been following the saga of my move, you know we’ve been well-and-truly in the new house for a little more than a week, and my mom has been sick and I’ve been working, and lawn-mowing and one thing after another. Which is to say we’re not that settled in. I settled in as well as I could before mom started moving in, unpacking most of my kitchen stuff and mostly setting up my bedroom and the guest room, about which we didn’t need to make too many joint decisions. Mom hasn’t unpacked much, and hasn’t been up to it (but bless her, she’s got the laundry underway), and there have been other things to attend to, like lawn-mowing and getting her all the way out of her apartment, and six hours in the emergency room and things. We, for example, don’t have books on the shelves or art on the walls, etc. The flexibility of that has been an asset— we’re thinking in some new ways about things— but we look like we’re failing to make reasonable progress.

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Easy to Please

I woke up this morning thinking about an exchange with an ex-boyfriend from years ago. He asked me, in kind of a carefully neutral tone, if I weren’t pretty easy to please.You could tell it was a bad thing when he asked it, so I denied it— said that I wasn’t that easy to please, but that he just really knew me well enough and we connected such that he didn’t see how hard it could be (some truth to that— when I’m not in love, I’m much more aware of what’s not working)— but that whole interaction struck me as a little strange. Even if I am easy to please— why is that a bad thing?

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Here We Go, Here We Go, Now

Never a dull moment.

When Comcast came to hook up our services, on Sunday, we immediately ran into problems. Mom was still using the phone number we were supposed to start using at the house. I called her to see if she could switch to using her cell phone at that point, so we could activate the number. She said no, the movers were going to call her on that number the next morning. So the Comcast guy didn’t activate our phone service at the house— he set up a service call for yesterday. But he set up cable and Internet, according to our order. Her phone service at the apartment stopped working right around then anyway, and she ended up having to use her cell phone during the move.

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