There must be something in the water this week. I say this because there has been an inordinate amount of male attention paid to Lindsay this week, and this is highly ABNORMAL.
Things with The Latvian are light and casual--coffee went very well, we were supposed to hang out on Friday, but he ended up driving down to the Alps to help a friend out. He then lamented that he was alone, and that he wished he'd asked me to come. Sigh. I'm waiting for this one to explode and go horrifically wrong like everything else in my love life so Eros can roll around on the floor laughing like he usually does. "Cosmic HAHA" where ARE you!? And what did I do to deserve an adorable, extremely polite Latvian!?
To add some irony to this, on Thursday I went for a run during my lunch (two) hour like I normally do. You know--with running tights, a loose wicking shirt, my signature white hat. Nothing glamorous, and in fact, I never intend to look glamorous. I go run to beat the crap out of some pavement, not to look pretty, and certainly not to find a date.
Nonetheless, heading back to school, an *ahem* older gentleman on a motorcycle saw me and gave me the double take. I stared back because I thought he was a weirdo. I guess he thought this was an invitation to talk, because he turned around, pulled over, and asked me si j'avais besoin d'un coach sportif. No, bucko. I do not need a friggin' sports coach. I'm female, not inept. You were slightly potbellied and my veteran of seven-marathons ass could run circles around you. I responded with a "Non, merci," and took off. That was a first.
The weird universe continued that afternoon. Once again, on the train home from work, a middle aged (not so attractive...) gentleman got on the train and gave me the double take. I was listening to music and pretended to ignore him. He then asked me a few stops later if "par hasard," I lived in Nanterre. I said no. That was the end of that.
And last night, Whitney, Sam, and I invaded Roseanne's studio in the 6th with wine, bread, cheese, and fixings for a homemade Fillipino dinner courtesy of Sam. Flirtatious texting with The Latvian ensued--always fun. When we left, Roseanne told me to have fun with The Latvian.
It was then that I began to wonder if I've become that girl. You know, the girl who walks into a room and turns heads. I can't imagine myself like that, and I don't WANT to imagine myself like that, because I don't conceive of myself that way. I'm not horrible looking, but I'm not the prettiest person alive either, and I'm ok with that. I've always been painfully shy in the dating realm and (admittedly) haven't had much confidence about it, but alas. Have I become that girl? Is the Ugly Duckling now The Swan?
No idea. But whatever is going on, it's weird. 'Cosmic HAHA,' I'm waiting and ready for you to have a good laugh at my expense. Just don't make it so bad this time, ok?