These days when people ask me "What's new?" there's a gleam in their eyes. I translate that to:
"So, are you dating?"
My standard answer is "I'm ready for a little romance. It's got to be the right chemistry,
Sometimes I say, "I've gone out to dinner...a few men, but Jimmy is a tough act to follow."
My friend Vera wanted to fix me up with Tom. He's 60 but only dates women under 45. I have two words for him and it's not "Happy Birthday."
Eventually, Mr. Right will come along and as the comic Mickey Freeman says, "I was looking for Mrs. Right...who knew her first name was "Always?" - Hopefully, my Mr. Right's first name will be "You're always."
I'd like to try on easy-going. Jimmy loved the IDEA of being easy-going and he aspired to that, but often when he said, "It's no big deal" it was. He sulked. At my age, I have no time for sulking. I'd say to Jimmy,
"I've never seen a man work so hard to be so easy-going."
In anticipation of meeting someone I had to do something to get ready, but what?
Color, straighten and continually obsess about my hair? check
Shop for shoes? check
Play on-line poker? check
Giggle about Spitzer check
Hmmm...My friend, Sheri suggested I join her pilates class. It's supposed to make you leaner and taller. Yippee! I pictured those extra inches around my waist stretched up and peeking out of my head. Pretty disgusting, actually.
Pilaties is the movement for ex-dancers. It keeps your body in line. Sheri has great posture or as my mother used to call it, "carriage." I've known Sheri for 20 years and pre-pilates she stood up straight. If she were a chimpanzee she'd walk on two legs.
I hemmed and hawed. Most decisions are difficult for me except for
"Should we stop for Carvel?"
Then, something wonderful happened. My friend Connie's mother went to the hospital. Yes, she died soon after, but that's not the wonderful part. Connie called me from the car on her way from seeing her dying mother. Naturally, she was sad. Suddenly, she perked up,
"Hey, today's Monday! Dancing With the Stars is on tonight!" she said.
Her enthusiasm was a ten out of ten. I thought, 'Gee, any show that can lift her spirits like that is a show worth checking out. '
As I watched that night I felt myself smiling. Tony almost smiled, too but that was because I was rubbing his tummy. Anyway, as I mentioned in yesterday's post, he has no lips.
Epiphany! Rather than take a class for ex-dancers, why not learn to dance? It's exercise with a skill. I may never go out dancing, yet I do go to weddings. And, at weddings I'm known as the Elaine from Seinfeld dancer. Remember that episode where Elaine thought she was such a cool dancer? After she saw the video of her arms and legs going in different directions she was mortified.
Jimmy was light on his feet and loved to dance. He would throw me around like a Raggity Ann doll. He thought that was funny. He'd almost be surprised when I stumbled back to his arms only to toss me out again.
We were carefree when we danced. Often I was looped. That may have contributed. Not to be morbid, but one of the last things he said to me was,
"We should have danced more."
That's why I kept his tuxedo and patent leather shoes. And, maybe that's why I'm taking dance lessons. So far I love it. My "carriage" is improving. I'm still a klutz, though.