Saturday ramble: my week in reverse

First-world problem: I have friends who live in the District who have parties, and I've taken to not messing with the metro when it single tracks, so I've had to drive to (and in and from) the District two Saturdays in a row now. Last weekend wasn't bad, but today was. Mind you, I made it worst for myself--I was running late, as I'd lost track of time in the course of weeding and mulching, so I figured I'd just wing it instead of mapping it ahead of time. Oh, and I forgot to charge my phone (yes, I have a car charger but I've heard they degrade the battery so I only use it in emergencies). But I got lost enough that I did have to use my phone, and it had just enough battery power to get me there (I could figure out how to get back on my own). And enough gas to get me there and back. Perhaps I should be more on top of fueling my phone and my car? 


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Gracie got her tubes out on Thursday, but she has to wear the cone until early next week. We're both sick of it, for various reasons. She still gets food all over it, and she's such a cuddler that the cone's always in my face--she's walking all over me as we speak. But I'm just glad the abscess is drained. I'm a little concerned about the open skin, but if the vet's not worried, I guess I should let it go.

She's been needier than ever since the injury. She's on my lap, purring loudly, as we speak.

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My friends: WTF? How do you sit next to someone you went out with without acknowledging each other?
A.: It's complicated.

Yes, I once again ran into my Jon Hamm Lookalike (JHL) and engaged in possibly the most absurd interaction with him yet. My personal life may be a farce, but it's not a unique one. I know this because, as I've mentioned before, women around the country and the world are being directed to my blog--not to read about science or food or foreign policy--but for guidance as for whether they should call a guy. It's the universal question, and I stand by my answer, even after it's become ridiculous, because, look: I have friends who have been seriously strung along. You don't want to date someone if you have to do all the work, and you will unless he's willing to show leadership and initiative.

And yet, my case is a bit different because I've inadvertently sent mixed signals. I chose my tense there intentionally: I have continued to inadvertently send mixed signals ever since that fateful episode of craziness, when I ran into JHL a couple of times in the fall and just couldn't bring myself to talk to him, even though I wanted to. Even though I thought he wanted to talk to me. And so we placed ourself in official avoidance territory, which I don't think either of us wanted to be in.

After work (one day earlier this week), a friend/colleague and I went to a work-topic-related film screening. She and I sat toward the back of the auditorium, toward the aisle of our row (she had the aisle seat, and I, the next one in). She saw someone she knew farther inward in our row, and went to talk to her. I looked up to see JHL, asking me whether the end seat was taken. I told him that it was, but the one on the other side of me was free. Alas, he said, he needed to sit at the end.

My friends: WTF? He opened with, "is this seat taken?" not "haven't we met before?" etc.?
A.: Well, the movie was going to start any minute. And it'd been a while since we'd actually talked.
My friends: That's weird.

I offered to move down one, or, rather, to move my friend's stuff to the seat on the opposite side of me. He thanked me profusely, and I just sort of nodded to indicate that it was no problem. I turned away from him to tell my friend that I'd moved her stuff, and then they dimmed the lights to introduce the film. As soon as the lights came back on, he bolted. He really did need that end seat, I guess.

My friends: That's so weird.
A.: [Another friend] says I should contact him.
My friends: Well, you should have immediately afterward. It would be weird now.

I agree. The friend who thinks I should contact him ran it by her husband, who agrees that he wouldn't have approached me had he not wanted to make an overture. But... maybe he just wanted a seat toward the back and toward the end of the row. He did smile enthusiastically--to the point that I didn't know how to react--when I yielded that seat. Besides, if it's an overture he's after, why doesn't he contact me? He's the one who never contacted me last time around. It's his move.

Is he having a similar conversation with his friends? Probably not because dudes don't overanalyse this $hit. They just let it go. Why can't I?