Comfort Zone

I've been eating a lot of really great food lately. The idea of turning 38 doesn't thrill me, and I've been trying to soften the blow by stretching out my birthday as long as possible. I've already had three birthday dinners, and two of them have been at places I've already been to before.

I was really happy with what I ordered at both of these places the first time I ate there there, and despite wanting to explore the menus further, I was afraid of not liking something else as much as what I'd liked before, and ordered the same thing

This reminded me of a game I made up awhile ago that I have yet to pilot. It would be best to play it with at least four people. Everyone would go to a restaurant, and all parties would write their names down on slips of paper, and indicate if they were vegetarians or had any food allergies. The names would be put into a hat and everyone would draw a name. When the server came by to take orders, everyone would order for the person who's name they had drawn, without sharing the name of the person they were ordering for with the group.

I like this game not only because it forces people out of their comfort zones, but also because it could be played on a variety of levels. There is the option to be a little obnoxious and order something sketchy for someone else, or to order what you think is the best thing on the menu.

The End

I think it was my uncomfortable conversation with Mr. 3:36 that contributed to my nightmare the other night. I dreamed a clown wearing a tie dye shirt asked me out, and I said okay even though there are few things I dislike more than hippies or clowns.

I hate the borrowed ideology of contemporary hippies. And I'll admit it, I think the aesthetic is appalling. Don't even get me started on clowns, and the way they pick on audience members, pushing their comfort zones. Mimes are even worse.

I'm so glad the hippie clown was only a dream. I was really disappointed with myself for being so passive in my dream, and prepared when Mr. 3:36 called back. I knew he would. I made an exception to my renaming rule, and entered him into my phone as DON'T ANSWER so I could be warned when he called. He left a message about how I said I'd call him with my schedule and hadn't, and if I didn't want to see him, that was fine, but at least I could be civilized and let him know.

I thought civilized was an interesting choice of words, given that he had hung up on me. I have tried to be direct, I have tried to have an open mind, but the fact is, Mr. 3:36 is a serious alcoholic. I'm not sure he remembers a lot of the things he says and does, which is why it's not worth it to me to remind him that his own behavior towards me has been anything but civilized. I'm done.

He's Back!

I have made an effort for the past year to stop renaming people in my cell phone. Now I delete them, and that is just would I did to Mr. Calls At 3:36 a.m. last spring. I wish I'd left him in my phone, so that I could be warned that after a six month hiatus, he was calling again. I wouldn't have answered. I have never been interested in or involved with Mr. 3:36. Why does it feel like we've now broken up twice?

Mr. 3:36 told me again that it was his phone that had called me in the middle of the night, not him, that he'd been in Europe all summer and now was back. He said he was being nice and calling me despite my having been out of touch, and implied I didn't deserve it.

Confrontation isn't a real strength of mine, and for awhile, I thought I maybe had been too uptight, and that avoiding him hadn't been a nice thing to do. I told him I'd left my calender at work, but that I would call back when I could look at my schedule and we could make a plan. I guess this rubbed him the wrong way. He said he had a life, too, that maybe we could get together in February of 2008 and hung up on me. I'm sure if he ever calls again, he will say we got disconnected.