washwords

We interrupt this regularly scheduled blog to bring you X365: the EX edition, special, all this week in honor of Valentines’ Day.

You may remember X365 – the idea is simple : write X number of words on ONE person who’s touched your life for each day of the year. My X was 35 (the age I was when I started); now it’s 36. The “micro-essays” as I liked to call them are random, or they were anyway – one day a relative or longheld close friend; the next, a stranger encountered on the Metro.

But this time, in preparation for relaunching efforts to finish that book I’ve been threatening to write (Red Line to Dumpsville: my year of dating in Washington, DC (C), in celebration of building  a home and a life with my love, and in honor of Valentines’ Day,  I’m dredging up “the dating files.” Some of these stories are mine, some were told to me, and a few are compilations (anyone who’s dated in wash, dc knows that it isn’t long before you start dating the SAME person again and again. You can be the judge of which are which. or not.

I’m breaking from the rules for this one and won’t be using real names (to protect the not-so innocent). They’re still presented in random order. So no swelled heads anyone!

10/365: Grownup: Unbuttoning, you said I had beautiful shoulders. Shared music, candlelight, grief. When I sought another older man, you said, “well at least I was the first.” “Well not the first,” we both said at once.

11/365: Seasons: On our first date, you LOVED me. You blew off a second. On the third, there was pizza, grammar, a kiss, and me sobbing. “So, I’ve seen all four seasons of you now,” you said.

12/365: Ratings: You played a question game, asking me how attracted I was to you right then. I lied up: “7??” Unsolicitedly, you said I was almost a 9, but lost two points re: lack of confidence.

13/365: Boy: I opened the car door and fell in love. with your 8-yr-old, swinging feet merrily, chattering. So much I didn’t notice that you sometimes disappeared, told me, on date one, you were an excellent liar.

14/365: Gift: You left me two CDs (of yours. subtle) saying the price was another one of my stories. the price was higher, sure, but not as bad as I’d assumed. Progress. And you helped me Ikea-ize!

15/365: Vejudgemental: These eggs are so bland (even though you ordered them sans everything.)  I have a complicated relationship with chocolate. I’m involved in the raw food movement. I’m considering leasing a cow. True stories all. Sigh.

16/365: Valentines: Yeah, well, I don’t really like Valentines Day, you said. Too commercial, too expensive, too silly. Oh yah, of course, me too. We don’t need pink heart-shaped cupcakes or anything. Ha! But honestly? I did.

17/365: Found-I: You say “You just don’t know how much I need you.” But I do. Your need is mine for your strong arms, laughing storytelling, and warm, pure heart enveloping mine. Thank you for finding me.