You might want to take a bathroom break before you jump into this mess of a Lou’s life update...
Bromancing the Stone
Bromance is sweeping the nation. On Tuesday, there was a center spread article in the Red Eye talking about the phenomenon that is the bromance (as seen on TV... such as Joey and Chandler on Friends, and movies... such as Superbad). My understand is that a bromance goes deeper than just two dudes who are best friends. If you are bromantically-linked, you’ve become ingrained in the fabric of a person’s life. He knows your schedule and you know his; he is ever-present in stories about your daily life; and he’s the person who people just expect you to be hanging with – if one of you is out and about, the other is likely to be not far behind. Frankly, I think the term “bromance” is a little too exclusive. Can’t women be in bromances as well?
There are a couple women who live faraway who hold the title of “best friend” in my life and have for almost a decade. They are people who know me… like really know me, who I can say anything too, and who will always be an important part of my life. But those women don’t know what I’m doing day-to-day, they aren’t privy to every date, every Internet profile, every pissed off work story, every deep-ish thought, every “want to hear something funny” moment. No, I’m bromantically-involved with someone else: @. (Obviously.)
Lou: @, did you see the article this morning about bromances?
Lou: Sometimes I feel like you and I are in a bromance… you know… except that we’re not dudes.
Lou: Is that weird that I just said that?
@: No, you can get away with stuff like that.
@: Bros before hos. [She says bro with a “surfer dude” accent, pronounced something more like “brah.” Ironically people.]
Lou: Ha. Homance.
Then she forwarded me this, which I think is worthy of sharing with all ya’lls.
OK. Keep in mind two things as you read this exchange between TR and I. One, TR and I do not have a professional relationship at all; and two, I swear this is exactly how this conversation went.
Lou: I went to see a physical therapist. Are you mad?
TR: No, I’m glad you went. What did he tell you?
Lou: Pretty much exactly the same thing you told me… except, he told me to stop training… for like a week.
TR: You know what that guy is?
TR: That guy’s a hand job.
Lou: A hand job?
TR: Yes, a hand job.
Lou: … TR… I’m really not sure I understand what you mean by that.
TR: You don’t know what a hand job is?
Lou: No, TR. I know what a hand job is. I just don’t know what you’re trying to say when you call someone a “hand job.”
TR: Like, he’s useless. No one wants him.
Lou: OK… whatever. Just, tell me what you think I should do. [At this point, TR laughs at himself and his hilarious use of the word “hand job” to describe a person. I do the obligatory roll o’ the eyes.]
Of course, TR thinks I should keep training. The thing is, I’ve been with him for a long time. He went to college for this and is a kinesiotherapist. He’s not a crackpot, "I got certified on the Internet" kind of trainer. And, as he pointed out, he knows my history – pretty much my entire history – with running. He’s worked me through other pain, and he’s kept me healthy. I trust him. And, I’m going to stick with his advice. Tomorrow, after a fairly lazy week, I’m going to run 10 miles. And, we’ll see where we go from there.
Dating ‘Round Up
A short story: Back in the spring, a boy asked me out. He was cute, but I didn’t really know anything about him, or feel like I had anything in common with him, so I said no. But that’s not really why I said no. I said no because I had just started seeing someone else and had gotten my head completely wrapped up in that shit.
That guy I turned down ended up being Marathon Man (MM), who, we now know, turned out to be way more worth my time and energy than I first realized. The moral of the story: don’t turn down a date just because you recently started seeing someone else who’s… interesting. Or something to that effect.
MM and I have been hanging out for a few weeks now. Too early to tell where it’s going, and I’m not going to torture ya’ll by analyzing it here, but things are… so far... so good.
But in an effort to take my own advice…
A few weeks ago, I went out with another guy – we’ll call him Adam Goldberg or AG. I met AG through the Internet dating channels, and picked him primarily based on profile that suggested: 1) he’s completely my type looks-wise and 2) he’s a musician. And… reluctantly 3) he kinda sounded interesting. Our first “date” was OK… not terrible… not earth shattering. He was definitely my “type,” but, as we read in my last post, I’m struggling as to whether or not that should really be my type. Regardless, I didn’t get an “interested” vibe and frankly, I take a solid “I don’t give a fuck” stance with the Internet dates, though I decided if he asked, I’d give it another chance. When I didn’t hear from him for a couple of days, I figured that was that.
Then he emailed me. And I said I’d go out with him again. We set a date. I canceled. We set another date. I hemmed and hawed and at the last minute, I said, “Sure I’m up for it!” and tried to look pretty.
That was last night. I'm… still ambivalent. But… I would probably go out with him again if he asked… though I’m not really sure why.
I am living the dream, people.