Tension at the Movieplex

"I'll be the one who'll break my heart.

I'll be the one who'll hold the gun."

- Leslie Feist (I Feel It All)

"It's not that he doesn't date anyone. He's just picky." Dees is a good friend. He always knows exactly where I've been working to build up my self-esteem, and then as though manipulating a safety pin, cleverly bursts the balloon bringing me back to the reality of who I am... just me. I'M JUST ME!

A list of things I can't or won't do (you decide):

Land a triple salchow

Carry on a one-sided conversation

Smell honeysuckle

Touch my eye

Fight bulls

Attend graduate school

Fix (or find) my carburetor

Throw away post-it notes

Samba

Sell insurance

Blind date

Not necessarily a comprehensive list, but one that I've worked on now for the past several months. When I think of something I can't or won't do, I write it down on a post-it. It's a way to embrace my limitations, even if they are self-imposed. For instance, I suffer from ommetaphobia, a fear of eyes. My nightmares usually consist of a freak "lead pencil through the occular nerve" accident. I cringe at contact lens commercials. Opening my eyes in the pool? Forget about it. This condition has haunted me for years as new friends will find out and then inevitably start touching their own eyes in front of me or flipping their eye lids inside-out.

But I have embraced this small part about who I am. I'm just me - the guy who cries for twenty minutes before and after he sees the optometrist. With my post-it notes and my uni-ball roller pen (micro point) I have contractually obligated myself to accept my phobia and have moved on with life.

All this brings me back to Dees. I had recently decided that I don't blind date. This decision was not made hastily, nor was it derived from some tragic "blind date pencil through eye" experience. This resolution came through long contemplation on the subject. Would I blind date?

Even the question sends chills down my spine. There are chills of excitement:

*Finally a date with no strings attached*

*A reason to eat expensive food and drink expensive wind and not feel guilty*

*Meeting a new person who might share my list of "cant's and wont's"

There are also chills of sheer terror:

*The night might be incredibly awkward*

*I might disappoint the person who set us up when I most assuredly don't want a second date*

*Have I admitted failure in my ability to find someone whom I would love and care for and they might return the favor?*

Pen to paper. Ink to parchment. Chisel to stone tablet. Only three days before our conversation outside the movieplex had I decided blind dating was not who I was when Jessica asked me if I was interested in meeting her friend?

Have I given up yet?

Have I given up on you?

Tension at the Movieplex

New pieces of art by bo odom