Friday, October 30, 2009

Scary Stuff

I've got my costume.

I've got my ticket.

I've got a map.

The dance is tonight and I don't want to go. Do. Not. Want. To. Go.

Everyone else in the group has a date or a mate. Everyone else is younger, thinner, cuter. Their hair still has a color. (This is the stuff I obsess about that does not matter.

And yet, if I stay home, there is zero chance I will meet anyone. It's too early for Santa, and even he isn't going to drop a man down my chimney. If I want to meet someone, I've got to leave the house. I go and feel ridiculous? Or stay home and feel lonely?

Not exactly Sophie's Choice here. Go or go not. There is no whine.


Anonymous said...

Do you really want to meet someone while feeling miserable? Doesn't sound like healthy way to attract someone.
-M in WA

Deb Shucka said...

Go. You've felt ridiculous before with brilliant results if I remember correctly. Trust. Read today's quote on Carrie's blog. Know you're loved.

Mercurious said...

On your worst day, you're more interesting than most anyone I know. We'll be mighty disappointed if you chicken out on this.

In my experience, bad days can become great ones with almost no effort whatsoever.

Carrie Wilson Link said...

Tell yourself you'll go for an hour, and then decide after an hour if you want to stay.

luckyzmom said...

Why waste all that preparation;D

BONNIE K said...

In my single days, if I went to something like this, it was most likely I would meet another woman who felt exactly the same way I did about not wanting to attend. But hell, there's nothing wrong with finding more female friends.

Go Mama said...

By the time I've posted this, you're probably already home and in bed with a However, based on your own sentiment I'd say, screw it, stay home....with a good book! This isn't how you'll meet your mate. Not in this mood. Not til you've found the verve and inner sparkle and that devil-may-care J I've come to know and love. The one who blasts through mud puddles with a chuckle, who mixes themed adventures and cocktails, characters and stories, crafts and indoor plumbing while making hundreds of meatloafs with one hand tied. You, my friend, are a dynamo.

Wish I could hold up a mirror. So you can see what I see. You'd be glowing. You'd allow yourself to kiss the world off when you just want to be under the comforter. No regrets.

Perhaps you need a bigger pond?

Only love coming your way.