The Lighter Side of Dating

Spin the Bottle: BabyBoomer Style

2010-12-28T00:37:00.000-08:00

I belong to a Social Meet-up Club for single folks 40 and over. When my friend started the club, it was for those 45 and older but younger singles kept sneaking in. She finally decided to go as young as 40, but we had to draw the line there, lest we start admitting those the ages of our own children and nothing ruins a good party like that image.

We have had every kind of social activity one can imagine… from the traditional happy hour to one of the more creative ideas: a toga party. Now these were popular when most of us were in college, but we cared a little less whether the fabric stayed in place in those days. A wardrobe malfunction then was just part of a wild and crazy evening.

We’re older now and wiser…and at least try to keep our inner wild-child from surfacing too often. One of the organizers did provide skin tape like they use on Dancing with the Stars to actually hold crucial parts of our costumes to our bodies. Those of us who had made our own togas definitely needed more tape than members who had purchased professionally created costumes.

The costumes were such fun. People had done their research (or not)… Cleopatra, Caesar, Roman Warriors, and then those with a towel thrown over their shoulder and a stretch of an actual ivy plant wrapped around their heads. Others dutifully donned the traditional bed sheet…some appeared to have been slept on recently.

We dance, played games, ate, and drank the wine but did forgo the primitive grape stomping. There were several drinking games but I knew I had to drive home so I passed and took pictures for those who may not remember the next day. Then came the tried and true…Spin the Bottle. I was in.

I stood eagerly waiting for the bottle to point to me. Time after time, it pointed to others. Finally, I launched a complaint to the head bottle spinner. She apologized profusely and gave the bottle a slight twist making sure it pointed directly to me.

I stepped forward to see who would be the recipient of an early Christmas peck on the cheek. She gave the bottle another spin, let it go and watched it twirl but instead of stopping on my dream man… it…er… pointed directly at…her.

Our eyes locked. We read each other’s minds. “Let’s give these people a show.” My theatre background helped me unleash a flair for the dramatic. We walked around each other keeping our eyes locked. Males in the audience were already letting their imaginations go wild…. and made sounds to accompany those thoughts.

We reached out and slowly touched each other’s faces… She pulled me closer. I produced the most seductive look I could muster without laughing. When I was almost there, she bent me back for the big raunchy finish. But at that very moment, at the height of the drama, we both lost our balance and crumbled to the floor.

Some man in the background shouted, “Oh be still my heart.”..The groaning and moaning told us we had not disappointed our audience. I heard my friend shout, "Ava, is your back ok?"

Meanwhile, we rolled around trying to assess any physical damage either of our bones or joints… then secondly checked out to be sure we had critical aspects of our costumes still intact.

Our act fell short of the dramatic build up, but from the noises the men were making, I think that’s all their hearts could handle.

Will You Marry Me

2010-11-24T08:32:00.000-08:00

A marriage proposal is an interesting way to start the day. I keep an active profile on Plenty of Fish (POF), a free internet dating site, more for its entertainment value than anything else. Since the site is free, my expectations are low. And I do remind myself regularly that I get what I pay for.

This particular message had a gift attached. POF gives members a certain number of points each month and those points can be “spent” on gifts for potential suitors. My message had a picture of two glasses of wine, pearls, a rose and chocolates…. Nice gift… if I can suspend reality long enough to forget it is just a picture of these things and not the actual items.

I was surprised when I first received a gift on this site. It does carry a bit of the same emotional thrill of getting a present. Someone actually had to spend something to give this to me. I will also admit that this particular gift was not enough of a thrill for me to accept the proposal, but I did check out guy’s profile.

We’ll call him Bob. Bob was from Shertz, Texas. The fact that I’d never heard of Shertz bothered me a little. It screamed “small town.” I enjoy art galleries, live theatre, and taking professional dance classes… not always available in small towns, so my low expectations were dropping even lower.

Bob is retired with a Master’s Degree, theoretically. (Sorry, my cynicism is showing.) But his photo did indicate there may be a light on in the attic so that part could be true. I notice that he checked NO to the question “Do you do drugs?” I couldn’t help but wonder if anyone ever checked YES to this.

He likes to travel; that’s a plus. Uh oh… he also lives in the RV that he travels in… Point deduction.

He did sign off with by sharing the medical info that he has herpes....hmm herpes.... Ok, I had to give him credit for his honesty. But credit was about as far as it went. I closed the profile and reminded myself that there are worse ways to start a day than with a marriage proposal, wine, roses, and jewelry… oh yes, and the best part...chocolates...without the calories.

Ava's website: http://www.edatinginsight.com/

Russian Porn

2010-11-17T15:12:00.000-08:00

A little knowledge really is a dangerous thing.

Blogspot is a user-friendly system for novice bloggers and maybe more accomplished ones as well. Clearly I fall into the former category. I was sitting around today exploring some of the other features of the program.

I know… “Get out and get a life Ava. “ Hey, I had a date last night and another one tomorrow… so I’m starting to re-claim my rightful place in the world of the non-brokenhearted …. Sorry, last night’s date didn’t provide anything blog-worthy but you can’t force these things… and sometimes a peaceful, non-humorous date is a welcome reprieve. Oh there was chemistry, but you can't write a whole blog on a little chemistry.

So here I sit playing with my blogspot features. I browsed through the stats and noted that I’d had 625 pageviews since I switched from Word Press to Blogspot in May. I realize many of those are repeat viewers, and that’s a compliment…thank you (and only you know who you are).. Then I started clicking on more detailed info about said viewers. I discovered 6 from Russia, 3 from India, and 1 each from France, Luxembourg, and Latvia… Latvia?

I probably know just enough about blogging to be dangerous. I assumed that my facebook buddies who were terribly bored or strongly loyal were the only ones reading these …and only then as more of a favor to me. Of course, I predicted a fair number of readers from the former high school classmates on my friends list who haven’t heard from me since the late 60s and are really curious to see if I’m still the wild child I was back then….and just what that might look like in my late 50s. In my mind, this was my reading audience. But Russia.. Latvia… WTF.

I’ve visited Russia twice. Is there a chance I left a few stalkers behind? Then I remembered something I learned from my two visits. Their reading materials are heavily censored. (or at least they still were in 1990)..

Maybe my blogs are the closest Russians can get to porn. I did have one blog with “Sex” in the title. Maybe that drew them in. If so, I really do apologize for not making the blogs spicier… or then again, maybe I’m doing you a favor. If you are out there and can read this, I invite you make yourself known. It’ll be our secret.. just between us and about a hundred of my closest friends.

Ava's website: www.edatinginsight.com

Pimping my Business

2010-11-13T09:32:00.000-08:00

I could feel it happening. The lure of becoming a full-time couch potato was very seductive. Moving past a break-up is never easy, but this one felt like it could take a rigid grip on me and not let go.

It was time. I needed to get out of the house for more than work and the occasional grocery store run. I needed to restore a space for fun back in my life.

I had managed to stay in touch with people by phone, email, and facebook but I’m a social person by nature. I missed the hugs, the eye-contact , the connectedness that comes from face-to-face communication.

So I contacted Jessica, a friend who had been patiently waiting for me to come out of my cave. She had a talent for teasing out the few places in the Domain that offered great happy hour eats and wine at a price that was still palatable.

We squeezed into a couple of seats at the bar at Gloria’s. I didn’t even know the new restaurant was there. (Yes, I do have to get out more.) Before the evening was over, it was clear that I was one of the few Austinites who didn’t know about Gloria’s . The lovely ambiance, upscale Tex-Mex meals and a delightful outdoor patio drew quite the crowd.

Jessica and I exchanged news about the highlights and lowlights in our lives. We were facebook friends, so we were able to keep up with each other on a mostly superficial level that way. Sitting there together we allowed ourselves to go beyond the surface and pour out our feelings. We laughed.. a lot.. and at times I held back a few tears. The visit was long overdue.

We were talking about Internet dating when the man on the bar stool next to me started injecting himself into our conversation. The interruption was only mildly annoying because we had already been talking for quite a while and were starting to wind down.

I explained to him that we were discussing online dating. He immediately gives his negative opinions concerning the subject. (I tried to ignore the thought, “No you probably prefer to pick up women at bars.”.. but it kept creeping back into my mind.) After he went on and on about the perils of Internet dating, he confessed that he’d never actually done it.

I quietly retrieved one of my business cards out of my purse. ( As most of you know, I’m an Internet Dating Coach, as a sideline to my work at the college.) When I slipped him my card, it was clear that he thought I was interested in him and slyly passing my card with the implied invitation to call me.

He kept talking and glanced briefly down at the card. Then he did a double take.

"You are an Internet Dating Coach! What the hell is an Internet Dating Coach? I thought I had impressed you with my suave demeanor and here you are just pimping your business." Jessica and I couldn’t stifle the giggles.

I asked him how his current approach to dating was working. He sighed. “I’ll give you a call.” I laughed and told him my business was booming and that I wasn’t accepting new clients. ...but that I wished him well.

Jessica and I moved to a new place had a cup of coffee and finished our conversation.

Ava's website: www.edatinginsight.com

The Breakup

2010-11-07T10:33:00.000-08:00

I knew it would end.

Aaron had told me from the beginning that I wasn’t the type of woman he wanted to settle down with forever. That hurt, but at the same time I appreciated knowing the truth. We tried to avoid it altogether, but we connected emotionally quite early on. We lived each day as if it were the last …because it could be.

It was one relationship where I pushed myself to stay totally in the present… to enjoy every pleasurable moment, every intimate conversation, every fun event with our friends, every trip we took. It was intense. It was wonderful. Then it was over.

We both hurt. For a week we went through excruciating pain trying not to contact each other at all. Then we finally talked.

“Ok, what would a healthy friendship look like? One that didn’t have us getting sucked back into the relationship.” Neither of us ever wanted to go through this again, regardless of how much we missed being together.

Aaron said, “So you have guided us these last 8 months as we’ve worked on developing healthy relationship skills. You tell me. Could a friendship work? And how?” It was clear neither of us wanted to lose the other person from our life. Our lives had become intertwined, in a good way. He was the person who invited me to share the trivia of how my day had gone. I was the one he turned to when he felt anxiety that took on various forms. This had lasted for 8 months… and we regretted none of it but knew it was time to move on.

“Well, first it’s important that neither of us really expect to get back together,” I started out. We acknowledged that we were finally at that place.

“Next, I think it’s important to employ the “Bill rules.”

“The Bill rules?” Aaron asked. Bill was one of Aaron’s close friends.

“Here’s how this works: If you wouldn’t hold hands with Bill, don’t hold hands with me. If you wouldn’t kiss Bill, don’t kiss me.”

“Ok, ok…” Aaron stopped me. I get it. So basically, I treat you like I would one of my male friends.

“Right,” I replied. And the same goes for me.” if I wouldn’t flirt seductively with Tammy, then I don’t flirt with you.”

We agreed to the Bill and Tammy rules. We also decided that for a few months it would be best not to be alone together, a situation which would clearly tempt fate. He was my tech support person, personal trainer, and car advisor, but I realized any of these things had to be done via the phone or email So we agreed to talk by phone once a week… on Thursday mornings. (I smile now as I think how naïve we were… but we were desperate.)

The first week, every time I wanted to share something with Aaron or had a question, I jotted it down on a note pad. Pages and pages and more pages. We made it until Wednesday night. We talked for an hour and a half Wednesday night and two hours Thursday morning. Ok, this part of the plan was a fail.

The next week several important issues came up in our lives, and we declared that we invoked the “exception clause” and talked at various times when the need arose. This started feeling more like a friendship. We reminded ourselves that it was important to stay apart physically, lest the sex magnet draw us in.

I vowed no alcohol for 21 days. I knew this would help me follow my own rules. (I can be the first to break rules I set up…go figure.)

Since we’d met in the social club, it’s no surprise that the issue came up of who would get custody of “our” friends. We discussed joint custody but made no clear decisions. We both felt skittish about going back to the club, mainly because we predicted the perfect amount of awkwardness would surely be waiting. We figured that would change in time. We allowed ourselves to go with what felt right that moment, while still granting ourselves permission to return to the club (or not) in the future.

We passed time with our families and other friends…and spent quite a bit of time doing what is called sitting in the pain. I bought a book titled The Wisdom of a Broken Heart. It gave me practical exercises to help me go to the depths of the pain and then finally to let it go and learn from it.

I did everything the book told me, well almost everything. I set up a meditation table. Above it, I hung the picture I’d bought when Aaron and I were in Belize. On the table I put seashells and an ocean scented candle.

The painting was of the bright, blue Caribbean Sea and the Belizean beach. In the corner was a red hibiscus. Our last morning when we were in Belize, Aaron had presented me with a hibiscus flower when he brought me my morning coffee. Yes, these things would surely assist me to get to the depths of my pain.

I bought a meditation rug, a cushion and the appropriate music with the sound of waves crashing at the shore. It all looked and sounded very tranquil, serene. I kept thinking I should actually use it. Surely it would help. Finally, I did and then I did again. And life started getting better in small increments. I followed the author’s instructions, not having the mental energy to question her words. I was a good student.

The book had more suggestions. I did those too. One I recall was to dump every single item of clothing I owned onto the floor. Then make two stacks: one of clothes that made me feel absolutely attractive and one stack that didn’t. The latter went to Goodwill. I’ll admit I do have a lot more room in my closet, and I do feel more attractive. This author has been here…She knows what it’s like.

Aaron and I both knew that we weren’t ready to date soon after the break up. But we talked about what it would be like when we did. How much did the other want to know? A fresh wave of pain infiltrated us. We declared that we each wanted at least to know when the other made the decision to start dating. Beyond that, it was hard to make rules about the unknown. I accepted the fact that I had to push through any jealous feelings if the friendship were to survive.

I made the decision first. I was helping a client set up an account on eHarmony. I researched and found him discounts. I read reviews. They reminded me that this site was designed for people who wanted a long-term relationship, a site that took things slowly. Maybe it would be right for me.

I did what we agreed on. I told Aaron. We both cried. Moving on is painful but necessary. I knew sitting in the pain indefinitely could become very isolating and, in a strange way, comforting. I feared becoming at one with my sofa, living my life through TV characters. I knew my grieving wasn’t completely finished, but I also knew life had to go on. So armored with my meditation practice, I proceeded.

Aaron has a birthday next week. We agreed that it would be safe to meet at Taco Deli for lunch ( Would I do this with Tammy? Yes. Ok then.). I have a small humorous gift for him. I found the one card without sexual innuendo.

Aaron isn’t my first break-up, but this may be the first one that feels healthy. And when it doesn’t, we can always make a new plan.

Author’s note: Thanks for accepting a blog that doesn’t quite fit the category of The Lighter Side of Dating. In a way, it does feel “lighter” but just not in a humorous way. Hugs to all my readers.
Ava's website: www.edatinginsight.com

Movie Madness

2010-11-04T14:32:00.000-07:00

Aaron and I had been together for a while now. (See previous post for details.) As a fan of the Academy Awards, I’m often twisting arms of friends to go with me to see the movies that are up for nomination.

I don’t mind going alone, but it’s just way more fun to have another person there for a chat afterwards over a glass of wine, while we dissect the parts we did and did not like.

Aaron and I saw some of the nominated movies together, but, as luck would have it, quite a few remained on my “to see” list that he had already seen.

I started calling friends to accompany me to the movies. One of my top movie buddies was Jerry. He and I met through match.com, but we hadn’t hit it off romantically. However, we became instant friends based on our love of movies.

He would even accompany me to The Arbor to see the artsy films; this was where most friends drew the line. Being a theatre major in college, I constantly sought the latest film that had gotten rave reviews from the critics. Most people proudly scoffed at such reviews. That’s ok. Scoff away. I’m used to it.

The deadline was drawing near, and the glamorous Oscar night was just around the corner. By the way, Oscar night is the Super Bowl to people like me…the World’s Series…the Wimbledon…uh… sorry, I’m out of sports analogies, but you get the idea.

The one movie I hadn’t seen was Inglorious Basterds. Aaron had already seen it. I searched and it wasn’t at the movie theatres anymore, and it hadn’t made it out in DVD yet. But I did find it on Movies on Demand on my cable TV.

I talked to Jerry to see if he wanted to watch it with me. We usually had some pretty insightful discussions. He eagerly agreed. I didn’t want to cook so I told him I’d make a platter of cheese, crackers and fruit for us to snack on. He said he’d bring some wine.

It did cross my mind that this would be the first time we’d been in my apartment …alone… with wine, but Jerry was more like one of my girlfriends so I dismissed any concerns. Nevertheless, when he arrived, I spread out a blanket on the floor in front of the TV and made sure the food and wine were between us.

We started the movie and settled in to watch. There was Brad Pitt in the most unlikely role.

Lt. Aldo Raine You probably heard we ain't in the prisoner-takin' business; we in the killin' Nazi business. And cousin, business is a-boomin'.
Hmmm wished they had chosen another actor. This character is just too much of a stretch because I know the usual Brad Pitt roles. And the accent, although funny, was a little over-the-top.

We sipped on our wine. Jerry’s phone rang. He turned it off, so I decided to turn mine off as well and really focus in on the movie. Rumors had it that this one might have a shot at several awards.

Shosanna Dreyfus: You either do what the fuck we tell you, or I'll bury this axe in your collaborating skull.

Ok it’s a little more violent than I usually like but in some kind of quirky way, the premise of the movie calls for it. I even caught myself laughing at quite a few scenes. Hmmm could this really be a comedy in disguise; after all it was directed by Tarantino. That would explain the over-the-top accent.

We snacked and continued sipping our wine. I noticed my phone was vibrating, but I ignored it. Whoever it was could wait. That’s the nice thing about being in a real theatre. There’s less to distract from the movie experience. (Methinks only a die hard movie lover would ignore a persistent phone vibrating.)

It was nearing the end.

Lt. Aldo Raine: I mean, if I had my way... you'd wear that goddamn uniform for the rest of your pecker-suckin' life. But I'm aware that ain't practical, I mean at some point you're gonna hafta take it off. So. I'm 'onna give you a little somethin' you can't take off.

I hid my eyes. I knew this was going to be bloody.

Jerry looked at me and said, “Is that someone knocking at the door?”

“No, it must be next door. I’m not expecting anyone.”

The next time there was no mistaking it. Someone was knocking hard on my door.
I paused the movie, went to the door and opened it.

Oh. My. Gosh. There stood Aaron… with his overnight bag in his hand.

“Aaron,” I said. My wide eyes and gaping mouth were the first clue I wasn’t expecting him. Jerry was the second.

“Uh Aaron, this is Jerry, my movie buddy. Remember I’ve told you about him. We go to movies together all the time. He is really a good friend, just like one of my girlfriends. Come in. We’re watching Inglorious Basterds. I know you’ve already seen it.” I babbled on and on and on and on.

Aaron walked in and stopped and surveyed the situation. A carpet picnic. Wine…. Clearly, a romantic set-up. He looked perplexed. I was still babbling nonstop.

He sat down and watched the last two minutes with us. I have no memory of how it ended. Then Aaron, who has never met a stranger, engaged Jerry in one conversation after another.

My mind was racing. “How can I get Jerry to go home in spite of the fact that Aaron is still chatting like crazy?” I walked over and sat down beside Aaron and held his hand...put my arm around him. Jerry and Aaron continued talking like this was absolutely normal. What next?

I interjected into the conversation, “Yes Aaron and I saw that movie together.” And we’d like you to go on home now… (ok that last part is a “wanted-to-say” not a “really-said.”)

Finally, I went over and got what was left of Jerry’s wine, corked it and brought it to him. Not subtle but I was past the point of subtle now.

The minute the door shut I turned to Aaron.
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming over?"

“Did you not get my text?”

“No, my phone is off.”

When we finally sorted out all the mysteries, here is what had happened. Aaron had sent a text asking if he could come over. He lives south and when he is in the north part of town, he sometimes does this. I am always happy to see him… well tonight "happy" was not the first emotion I experienced.. The overnight bag had taken up residence in his trunk for just such spontaneous occasions.

Aaron checked his phone. “See, look.” He showed me where he had pulled up an old email of mine that said, “That sounds good.” So assuming he had my permission, he drove on over from his nephew’s house where he’d been visiting.
I gave him a kiss and suggested he sue Blackberry.

Ava's website: www.edatinginsight.com

Can We Have Sex Yet?

2010-10-22T23:52:00.000-07:00

Part One
Aaron and I met following a happy hour hosted by a local social club. He was still relatively new to the group, so he got his obligatory attention from the women members. Some honestly wanted him to feel welcome; others were casting their bait and hoping he’d nibble.

I had spent most of my time chatting with a female newcomer. She seemed a bit shy and worried that guys might try to hit on her. I enjoyed her company, and it was clear that she was pleased to have some neutral conversation not laced with pick-up lines.

The happy hour time expired and word spread quickly that the group was going to Dallas Nightclub dancing. We were all encouraged to come.
“Ava, we’re going to Dallas. Come join us. We know you love to dance.” They were right. I did. There was breathing and there was dancing; it would be hard for me to pick one over the other.

Someone from the crowd inquired, “Hey Aaron, you ‘re going too, aren’t you.” Aaron continued to chew his burger with his eyes fixated on me. A bit of mustard drizzled down his chin but he caught it before it hit his shirt and wiped his face, all in one move…while still looking in my direction. He mumbled something to the dance troupe that I couldn’t hear.

We both remained noncommittal about dancing. Finally, they left. I decided that as an Assistant Organizer of the Social Club, I was duty bound to introduce myself. . The two glasses of wine made it easy to shed my inhibitions.

“Hi, I’m Ava. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“My name is Aaron. Have a seat?”

We talked for a long, long time, switching to water somewhere along the way. He asked if he could walk me out to my car. Once there, Aaron did the male thing. He talked about cars. We both had a Honda. How old was mine? What size engine did it have? How many cylinders?

Who knew? Do guys really know and care that much about cars? I sensed this guy did. I was tempted to make up what I felt were convincing answers but finally admitted that I didn’t have a clue.

We made plans to meet at a movie the next day. I felt pretty sure that my feelings might change once my head cleared and I viewed him in the light of day.

Part Two
I was surprised the next day at the movie when he had neither fangs nor glowing red eyes. Maybe my perception hadn’t been too far off the previous evening. While he was well-built and certainly handsome, the appeal was more than his good looks.
We enjoyed the movie and the discussion that followed.

We proceeded to spend time together with the social club dancing, eating and attending various events. Aaron and I were able to talk to each other on a deeper, more intimate level than had been the norm with guys before him. Relatively new into the dating world, he was an eager student with a hunger for knowledge about dating and personal growth in general.

Over time we gradually became more physically intimate as well. The quick peck on the cheek graduated to long, lingering kisses. Yes, the chemistry was there. . It was clear that we were moving toward a sexual relationship. Over the years I had let go of the illusion that sex was something magical and just happened spontaneously when the moment was right.

I told Aaron that we needed to discuss sex before delving into it. I could tell by the look on his face that he was perplexed. “Discuss sex??” What a concept! To give him a break..He had been married to one person for twenty years. Although he’d been divorced for a year and a half, he hadn’t done a lot of dating.
I told him I thought it would be responsible for us to both get an HIV test. His face went pale. He readily agreed, but I couldn’t tell if he thought it was a wise medical decision or just one more obstacle that he had to bypass before reaching the treasure chest.

Ironically, three days later I got an email advertising a day of free HIV testing at ACC Eastview Campus. Clearly, the sex gods were smiling down on us and giving us a nudge. I worked until 1:00, so we made plans to meet and ride together to do the testing. When needles are involved, it’s nice to have a hand to hold.

Aaron was concerned about the time and that he might need to go early and save us a place in line. I chuckled to myself. I would like to believe that there would be a long line of responsible college students waiting for the testing, but I’d taught that age group. I just didn’t think it was likely. Even the more dependable students were more likely to use condoms.

Part Three
I checked Google Maps and found a BBQ joint that I thought would serve as a good meeting site. The plan was to leave my car in the parking lot and ride together to the campus. Aaron arrived early and sat in his car waiting for me. He wasn’t there long before an oversized employee appeared at his window.

“Boss wants to know why you all post up in here.”

Aaron groped for the words without going into details. “Uh,..I’m meeting someone here.”

“You MEETIN’ someone here?” He had clearly inferred that a drug deal was about to go down. Aaron started stammering and quickly started his car and took off. He called me. I sensed the anxiety in his voice.

“Ava, we are never meeting in East Austin again. It’s not safe over here.” I heard something about drugs and started quizzing him. “No, I’m not involved with drugs. It was a mistake.” Feeling slightly uneasy and confused, I asked if he thought we should abort the plan. “Hell no.” was his simple response.

Aaron found a busy place right beside the freeway with a large parking lot, so we met there. Next came the quest for the campus. I’d been to Eastview and knew it wasn’t exactly easy to find.

Aaron’s navigation system fussed at us nonstop. “U-turn when safe. Adjusting route. Turn left, no turn right.” Did I mention that our window of opportunity ended at 3:00? Finally, we turned off the nav and let my inner compass trust its memory…Generally, not a reliable option, but it finally got us there.

Not only was there no line; there was no sign or any indication of where the testing was being conducted. We searched, not casually. We scoured three floors. Our mission, not to mention the 3:00 deadline, drove us. It was clear; we had to ask someone. Aaron and I discussed it, and he agreed to ask while I tried to call the health center sponsoring the event.

Right on cue, a lady appeared from around a corner. She looked familiar. “Oh no. It was a friend from church.” I turned away quickly. Now why I felt like a couple of kids caught kissing in the coat closet was beyond me, but I did. I didn’t have time to stop Aaron. He was already pouring out our story and asking where this testing was being held. I hoped she didn’t recognize me….while I made the call to the health center.

My friend knew nothing of this testing but directed Aaron to two more people. I stayed hidden while Aaron talked freely about this to two more people. I got directions to the testing center and suggested we go straight there. Did I mention that I worked for ACC (another campus) and had no idea how many more familiar faces might appear?

The search for the testing center proved challenging as well. Feeling defeated, I suggested again that we give up. Aaron, looked at me and said, “Are you kidding? This IS going to happen.”

Sex is a powerful motivator.

Part Four
We found the location, but the health center workers were baffled when we told them about the ad we’d seen. Fortunately, Aaron was able to use their computer and pull up the email I’d sent him. There it was: “Free HIV testing. ACC Eastview Campus, Noon-3:00.”

The workers were happy to give us the free test but still couldn’t figure out where the ad came from. They dug through their files and finally found it; an ad that had been run two years previously had somehow been kicked back out into the Internet world again. This confirmed my suspicion that the sex gods have ways to point us in the right direction when we appear lost.

I was in the testing room trying to ignore the blood being sucked from my arm when I overheard Aaron talking to the manager of the center. “So I get it how a woman could get AIDS but I just don’t understand the mechanics of how it works for a man.” I shuddered. The conversation turned to the details involving the penis. Fortunately, I finished up and Aaron took his turn.

We exited holding a paper proclaiming our clean bill of health. I breathed a sigh of relief, not so much about the results but that the afternoon drama had ended. I asked, “So are you headed back to your place?”

He looked at me with a twinkle in his eye and whispered, “No way.”

Ava's website: www.edatinginsight.com

Two Worlds Collide

2009-12-13T18:43:00.000-08:00

Part 2...to follow "Mystery Illness"

The short, sleepless night blended into the next day. The nurse’s aide who was on duty saw that I was on a “heart healthy” diet and promised she’d slip me some salt from time to time. What more could I ask for?

The day dragged by: more tests, more negative results. I made up the story that the doc treating me was noting in my file that I belonged on a psych ward and should be treated for hypochondria. He was patient and thorough but just as baffled as I was.

Then it started. Marcus called to say that he wanted to come to visit me when he got off work. I told him that I simply must watch the finale of Dancing with the Stars, so a visit wouldn’t be possible.

He insisted. “I just want to see you for a few minutes and look into your eyes again.” How could I say “No” to that?

Dave had been calling off and on all day, seemingly concerned that he had abandoned me at the hospital. During the last call, he told me, “You know, the hospital is right on my way home from work. I think I’ll stop by for a quick visit.” Gulp.

Now dating two guys at the same time in the early stages is one thing. However, having them both in the same hospital room at the same time is quite another.

“Oh Dave, you are just too kind, but that’s probably not a good idea. I may have other friends stopping by and I really want to watch Dancing with the Stars and…”

He interrupted, “I won’t stay long. I just want to stop by to see you and hold your hand a few minutes.”

Oh my gosh! This was going to happen. My two short-term suitors were going to show up in my hospital room at the same time. I couldn’t get the image of Marcus gazing into my eyes while Dave held my hand out of my mind. I rationalized that if there was any blood shed, at least we were already in the hospital.

I got up the nerve to look in the mirror. Whoa, scary. I lay back down quickly. I tried to remember the last time I’d brushed my teeth or combed my hair, not exactly top priorities in hospital ERs. So many tubes and leads were attached to me that I had not even seriously considered taking a bath. Nope… I predicted the guys wouldn’t be staying long at all.

Marcus arrived first… with flowers in hand. (big sigh) Any other time I would have seen this as the lovely gesture that it was. Right now all I could think about was how I could produce a make-shift “vase” and get the flowers into water without flashing my backside that showed through the huge slit up the back of my lovely hospital gown. And where could I place the bouquet so that Dave wouldn’t notice it… (I’m not sure why I worried about him noticing the flowers when noticing Marcus was clearly the larger concern.)

I grabbed my water pitcher, put it in the sink and stuck the flowers in it without even removing the green paper…all this with one hand, while the other held my gaping gown together.

I nestled back into my bed and attempted to untangle all my tubes and leads. Marcus took my face in his hands to gaze into my eyes.

The door opened. “Hey Dave. Have you met Marcus?”

They shook hands …then Marcus sat in a chair on the right side of my bed while Dave took the one on the left side. The thought ran through my head, “Ok, this is the perfect amount of awkwardness.”

Then the door opened again.

The night nurse appeared. Good, maybe she could save me from this uncomfortable situation and demand that they leave. It didn’t happen.

Instead she positioned herself at the foot of my bed and wanted to discuss…(are you ready for this?)… my bowel movements. Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse. If I were seriously trying to make up questions about bowel movements, I could never have come up with as many as she threw at me. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally left.

A long pause followed. I pretended to watch TV. Dave eventually stood and said, "Well, I'd better be going now. Oh, who gave you the flowers?"

Ava's website (www.edatinginsight.com)

Mystery Illness

2009-12-12T16:00:00.000-08:00

Ok, it wasn't the flu. The doctor displayed the proof to me on her computer. She showed me x-rays and the results of the blood tests. Even with my vast experience watching Grey's Anatomy, the x-rays didn't make sense. Her translation: you don't have the flu, or a sinus infection, or anything else that's clearly discernible. She gave me the obligatory antibiotics and sent me on my way. I took her at her word and proceeded with life.

I worked. I rested. I checked my online dating email. I rested. Life still wasn't back to normal, but when I watched Nightline display horrendous victims of swine flu gasping for breath, I reminded myself that my substandard health could be much worse.

I didn't have a fever so I agreed to a few dates with men I met through the latest Internet dating site I had joined. I'll call the first guy Dave. Dave and I had the mandatory coffee date that progressed to dinner at a nice restaurant.

Attention neophytes: That's often how this works. If we "click" over coffee, then the date continues. If not, we are free to go our separate ways having only lost about 15 minutes of our time, and still enjoyed a nice cup of tea or java. It's a pretty good system...unless there is some disagreement about whether or not we click. Fortunately, Dave and I agreed that we did.

Flash forward to the restaurant. We sipped a full-bodied, red wine and discussed our backgrounds, our hopes, our dreams. I savored every bite of my Asian salad with marinated chicken and grilled shrimp. The mandarin orange slices added the perfect tartness to balance the rich blackberry smoothness of the wine….That night we captured the right mix of a cheekiness, sincerity, and intrigue. Dave and I agreed that we’d like to see each other again. A soft, yet sensual kiss on the cheek sealed the deal.

I still wasn't bringing my "A" game to the table. I frequently felt like I'd just run a marathon when I'd only climbed one short flight of stairs to my apartment. This was not my norm. I prided myself on my twice weekly dancing...both lessons and for fun. I hated this fatigue that restrained me now. I rested a lot. I missed a few days at work. But lacking any respectable symptoms, I pressed on when I could. ("Sorry, I can't possibly work today. I'm tired." What kind of symptom is that?)

Enter date number two. Marcus, who was a member of the same dating site, also belonged to a social group for singles that I attended. The group had a dance Friday night. As the dance coordinator, I arrived early to save tables. The band demanded high energy. A couple of beers and Marcus convinced me that I could keep up. I danced with others in the group, but it was looking into Marcus's eyes during the few slow dances that fixated me. His sense of rhythm inspired a gentle lead that made following a pleasure. We agreed that we'd like to get to know each other better.

Then I crashed. The next two days were divided between the sofa and my bed. I gave thanks for Campbell's microwavable soups. Marcus and Dave called daily to check on me. We spent time getting to know each other over the phone. I had to take notes since my brain was more than a little scrambled due to this mystery illness. A section of my spiral notebook was devoted to Dave and another section to Marcus.

By the third day, I had to call a girlfriend to go to the grocery store for me. Living alone can be hell in the best of times. This was not the best of times. She stayed and helped me out for several hours. I felt worse, but when I started having chest pains, I paid attention. It had been two years since I'd had a heart attack that culminated with a stent. (Yes, I'm much too young for that kind of nonsense.)

When I told Dave what was happening, he insisted that he drive me to the nearest ER. I didn't put up much of a fight. I knew what lay ahead, but I'm not sure he did. There were literally hours of lying around, testing, retesting, waiting ... and waiting some more.(Did I mention stabbing and re-stabbing to get a vein that would spew some blood?) After two grueling hours, I convinced Dave to go home and go to bed....he was literally falling asleep sitting up in the chair at my bedside.

Since I had a "history," they admitted me for more testing. Dave and I had arrived at the ER door at 10:30 PM. At 3:00 am, I was finally in a room....and in a tremendous amount of pain. The intake nurse on the floor asked me a battery of questions.

When he asked, "Do you have anxiety?" I couldn't hold back.

"Hell yes, I have anxiety. Wouldn't you have anxiety if you were poked with needles and left strapped to a hard bed for 4 and a half hours?"

He didn't dawdle on the remaining questions. (To be continued)

(Ava's website www.edatinginsight.com)

Online Dating and the Flu

2009-12-12T15:10:00.000-08:00

It's been a week now. I ache. My eyelids hurt when I blink. I just finished researching who makes AirBorn as I make plans to sue.

The TV is my new best friend. Never a big fan before, now I lie mesmerized watching any and every segment of drivel that comes on... not because it has such profound entertainment value but because I'm so freaking bored...and it's the one thing that takes practically zero energy.

As a diversion, I wobble over to check my online dating messages. Interesting. I have two emails from doctors, both local. (I note how they work "doc" or "doctor" into their user names. Probably no accident.) Ok, maybe the Universe is smiling down on me. I'm sick. I get doctors.

The first email says,

"You have piqued my interest with a fascination hitherto reserved for a catalogue of honeymoon accessories.... I do not enjoy typing. I never mastered the art of typing, because I was convinced that I was entitled to a secretary who would take my dictation. How could I possibly imagine that one day typing would be paramount to finding the woman of my dreams. So call me; doctor's orders: (leaves phone number)"

Not having the energy to sit too long at the keyboard, I glance briefly over his profile, determine that it is quite possibly a portion of his dissertation, and wobble back to the couch grabbing my cell phone on the way.

I don't always make phone contact this early on but dire circumstances call for dire measures. I introduce myself. He's thrilled to hear from me and begins to make plans for us to meet and spend the entire day together.

"Uh... that's sounds lovely, but ..well.. I'm sick. The flu, I think." [translation: I would never meet you this soon, but today I happen to have a very real excuse.]

Doc407 proceeds to tell me that he will come over immediately and make soup for me. It seems that in my brief scan of his profile, I missed that he was a gourmet cook. As tempting as it sounds, I explain that that was just not going to happen.

I switch subjects immediately to get his fantasy out of my kitchen and asked him about his work. Ahh his opening... I get the introduction to his lecture on "alternative medicine and preventive lifestyles." I see where it's going...

"Have you eaten any animal flesh in the week preceding your illness? ... Yes? Well, there you have it. It's your fault."

I start to cough violently in the background and explain that I'm starting to feel much worse. I assure him that it's not necessary for him to rush to my aid. I'm sure I'll be fine after I take my medicine.

"Medicine. You aren't really going to take those toxic pharmaceuticals, are you?"

"No, never. I make them myself. (Cough, cough, cough) Got to go now. The next batch is almost ready."

As I drift off to sleep, I wonder if the other doctor has possibilities...but I'm too tired to check.

Note: the name Doc407 has been changed to protect the "innocent."