There were all sorts of important conversations that happened while I was at work today. The one that made the most impact on some of my upcoming decisions happened in an office near my own.
I was saying how much I hate this online dating nonsense. You judge people on so little, allow them into your life and there is the potential they have nothing in common with you. They have the potential to be exploding grenades (to take a Fault in Their Stars reference sort of out of context) - well, more like little grenades. 3 dates does not create total devastation.
So this colleague and I were talking about alternatives. Just ways to get out and meet people in general, not necessarily going to a meat market where we are all wondering who's filet mignon and who's just ground beef with a high fat content. He said Fishtown and Northern Liberties. He told me about the festival they are having there this weekend where people make transportation things in unique ways with a couple of rules: it must stop, it must go at 3 mph, it must not have a motor and you must be in costume. If I weren't going to NYC this Saturday, I would SO be there.
He had other ideas - writing groups, knitting in hipster spaces in northern liberties/Fishtown, going on line to meet ups in that area and just start looking for things that are my kind of things to do. Maybe I'll look for a meet up around frisbee; I haven't played in years and I used to be really good. (I doubt the frisbee thing. I'm just toying with ideas here.)
I want to come offline. I have had a rough couple of moments of late and I'm not convinced my heart and my being (and my bank account) can take much more rejection. I'm not sure that I want my love-story to be so dependent on the Internet. I think I would like a lot more fate than Internet. Granted, if an unbelievable message, a once in a lifetime opportunity presents itself online, I will eat all of these words and dive in with abandon, because let me be honest: that is what I do. I jump in head first, surface, look around, take stock my surroundings and then decide if this is where I want to be. Sometimes all of this can happen in moments. Sometimes, I take stock over and over and yes, this is where I am and I'm ready to get out, or at other times, I look around and say, "This isn't perfect, but there is nowhere else I want to be."