Out of the Blue

"Hmmm I think he's hot," Miss Independent said.

"Really?" I answered.

"Yeah. There's just something really attractive about him."

"... Well, ok, you can have him."

And that was how it all started.

McClimber didn't register anywhere on my radar when I first met him. He was just one of the roommates living with Miss Independent's Ex (mentioned in previous blog posts), and another climber at the rock climbing gym we regularly attended. The first time we met I didn't give him a second thought--it was the first time I was meeting the Ex, so that was clearly the more important issue. McClimber watched as Miss Ind. and I struggled with a particularly difficult ascent. When we asked for the beta (i.e. the most effective sequence of moves), he proceeded to tie himself in to demonstrate. Without skipping a beat, he approached the wall and began climbing. His phone rang. He answered it. Then he proceeded to finish the entire ascent while on the cellphone.

That was McClimber--this glasses-wearing, narrow-mouthed, dorky, freckled guy, who awkwardly and unapologetically flowed through life. He embraced his own self-effacing humor, periodically making fun of himself and others, and never seemed riled by anything: especially not a climb.

I didn't know much about him, but Miss Ind. kept in touch so I learned vicariously through her. He spoke and behaved as though he were climbing Casanova, and spouted ill-informed opinions wholeheartedly without hesitation. He was passionate with a laid-back disposition, and arrogant without overcompensating for insecurity. But the more important facts were that McClimber had a real thing for Miss Ind., and thought I was hot too.

One night, after a chat with Miss Ind. about her disappointing Ex, I saw McClimber was on Facebook and decided to send an instant message. Although he flirted with me, he did make clear that he thought Miss Ind. truly was different, and that he was different from most guys as well. He was looking for something real and was just nervous because he had his heart broken into a million pieces by his Ex... blah blah blah

Despite his personality quirks, I decided that perhaps he was sincere when it came to my girl. Perhaps this geeky guy had character and integrity somewhere beyond his funny walk and unintentionally baggy clothes.

Of course, the very next day, Miss Ind. informed me she was no longer interested in McClimber at all, but still completely and irrevocably in love with her Ex (still McClimber's roommate. *sigh*). That late-night and somewhat serious IM conversation between McClimber and I gave him the liberty to speak comfortably with me when Miss Ind. and I would run into him at the gym. He would ask why she didn't answer any of his texts anymore. He would ask if everything was alright.

I would make up an excuse, like a good friend does.

Time passed and Miss Ind.'s 20-something birthday came around. She and I went out for sushi and one drink, ended up bar hopping for four drinks, and embarked on a serious bout of drunkenness. Our last stop was an Irish Pub within walking distance of her house. Another drink in, she decided it was a great idea to invite her Ex, McClimber, and their other two roommates to come out with us. Four boys and us? Yup, sounds about right.

Only McClimber responded though: "The other guys are busy and I'm not sure I can either..." he texted. I asked Miss Ind. for his number--time for hot intervention.

"McClimber, you need to see 'friendly Tess' in action. Come out," I texted.

Thirty seconds later he sent Miss Ind. a text saying he was on his way.

Friendly Tess is, unfortunately, an appropriate nickname for my drunken alter-ego. I tend to do relatively inappropriate things in an inebriated or slightly inebriated state. Once McClimber got there, I didn't care that he struck me as goofy when we met--he was a man who found me attractive that Miss Ind. no longer wanted. That's all that mattered.

***Cue the things I'm not proud of... ***

It didn't take long for me to really catch his attention. (Grabbing a guy's thigh under the table is a good trick...)

ANYWAY, the skinny is that somehow Miss Ind. and I ended up at McClimber's place, where the Ex and the other two roommates were playing beer pong with the Ex's date (ouch!). I kept trying to tell Miss Ind. that I needed to leave ASAP, before I did anything stupid, and she was not listening/off in her own world. So I contacted a friend from work and asked him to pick me up.

As he and I texted, McClimber led me to the front door--conveniently the front door is protected from view by lots of greenery.

"What's your address?" I asked.

"Why?" McClimber said. "Are you asking someone to pick you up?"

"Yes."

He told me his address. "What are the cross-streets?" I asked. Now he had me up against the door.

"Farmer and University," he said. He leaned closer and kissed my neck. My eyes widened. I tried to concentrate and to text the cross-streets.

Then McClimber lifted his face toward mine and kissed my lips. Suddenly the muscles in my shoulders loosened and fell forward into his hands.

"Those aren't your cross-streets are they?" I asked, my heart pounding.

He chuckled, "How did you know?"

He kissed me again, then opened the door. Right around then, my guardian angel on the other side of the phone texted back, "I'm on my way."

As it turned out, McClimber's most redeemable physical qualities were the ones you wouldn't see right away. That freckled skin, for example, was addicting to the touch. His narrow mouth wasn't really all that narrow, it just seemed so because of his dramatic Johnny-Depp-esk cheek bones. Those tragic glasses were actually hiding a pair of the most incredible blue eyes with heavy lashes I had ever seen. And, to top it off, his unintentionally baggy clothes masked the climber's physique hidden beneath them.

"God I hope this isn't just because you're tipsy," he said. "I've liked you since that night we talked online. My god you're incredible..."

But my guardian angel did come...

McClimber walked me outside and kissed me goodbye. When I was getting ready to sleep later that night I thought about how surprised I was by everything. Even more surprising, I saw McClimber the next day, and the next, and the next, and the next... it was as though once he kissed me we couldn't stop.

McClimber was completely and totally out of the blue.

It's about damn time I had some fun.

Second Thoughts

Don't spit where you eat.

That's not exactly the saying, but it's close enough. This author update delves deep into the drama of a new job. Repressed sexual frustration finally surfaces and smothers itself all over unsuspecting coworkers... Damn.

Is the benefit worth the risk?

This is the question seldom asked when it's actually vital to do so. Your coworker is attractive, charming, slick, can sex you with his eyes, etc., and the farthest thoughts from your mind are the consequences. Yet you know that when co-workers date it almost always ends badly. You even have personal experience in this mistake.

One night off you and MidWest flirt with the idea of hanging out. But, luckily, you're exhausted and didn't drink tonight (despite the protests of others), so your judgment is relatively clear. You both decided it's too late to meet up, and Sleep is the responsible choice.

"You home yet?" he asks.

"JUST. Why?"

"Oh I was having second thoughts," he says.

Second thoughts... Second thoughts are where the trouble starts. No dating anyone at work, I decided. But those second thoughts invade my better judgment when MidWest wraps his arms around me or shyly confesses "You're sexy."

The best part is his hesitation: he still isn't sure he believes you like him. But you have to hide your nerves too--what if he doesn't really like you? You've been wrong before. It's impossible to know. And the biggest problem is assessing the real risks involved when you're so unsure of the benefits. What exactly does MidWest want? What exactly do you want?

Breathe. Time will tell.

Except when you spit where you eat you have nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. No room for poor decisions... Less room to breathe. Less time to make up your mind.

MidWest isn't your boss, he isn't dating anyone, and he specifically is not dating your boss's sister (tell you that story in the next blog). So... there he is, telling you he really wants to hang out, and hesitating... Hesitating...

It's those second thoughts. Damn second thoughts.

And when we're sitting inches from each other? Talking, hanging out, looking at each other, wondering...

That second before you make contact is your last chance; last chance for second thoughts. Because the moment you touch, the moment that line is crossed, you experience the only thing more dangerous than second thoughts:

No thoughts at all.

Keep you posted...

Who Am I?

"I feel like I'm falling apart." Miss Independent (a previously-mentioned friend of mine) earned her name by being a solid individual, so experiencing a serious bout of self- uncertainty was beyond unnerving. "Everything I once wanted, everything I thought was important... I don't care about any of it anymore," she said through an onset of tears.

But what was more upsetting was the realization that embracing anything radically new or different inevitably meant leaving some things behind... including some people. Including some of the more important people.

Being 20-something means a crash-course with reality. All the dreams and aspirations of our youth now have to intersect the effort and resources it requires to bring it to fruition. That idea you held onto of your identity is suddenly put on stage under a blinding light and forced to prove itself. It is forced to be more than a mere idea.

When we make a commitment to our true self--to the person we wish to become--we have to break up with old things: old dreams, old notions, old habits, old friends, and old lovers. A disparate existence chafes against the soul, as communal as we are, so a sense of Self, Identity, and Unity is imperative. Your relationship with YOU is one truly monogamous relationship we all must embrace for the sake of joy.

As Miss Independent struggled to climb a 5.10c at our gym through doubt and frustration, she slowly began the essential purging process of her individual dwelling.

"¹¹ When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. ¹² For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known." (Corinthians 13). That part of the famous love passage was always lost on me. I hoped one day I would understand better what it meant. I think now I just might.

In our 20-somethings we are finally faced with the task of "putting away childish things," and of seeing "in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face." We finally have to create our Self, and see our Self. It doesn't always feel good, but love--even (or especially) self-love--is much more than a feeling. And this universal struggle is as unique as the individuals experiencing it. Saying goodbye to her ex and finally accepting him as a childish thing is a task far more difficult for Miss Independent than I can really understand. But, perhaps, it will actually mean saying "hello" to much more.

For me, your author, I have to say goodbye too. Nervousness impedes my process of accepting responsibilities beyond serving liquor, answering phones, avoiding writing, flirting, shallow relationships, and doubt. But the time has come to dispel doubt, to reject nerves and (dare I say it) fear. Miss Independent has realized an overwhelming sense of isolation. And, as extroverted as she is, there is perhaps nothing more upsetting. She feels alone, separated by her differences and by those desires and ambitions that no longer fit the norm. The irony, and perhaps greatest comfort, is that she is not actually alone at all. I am right there with her.

And if you're twenty or thirty-something, chances are you are with her too.

Who am I?

While the answer for all of will certainly be different, the question is still the same.