I have a small life.  My sphere is tiny – hence “My Wee World”.  I get up, work out at home, go to the rink, pick up my kid, go home, and hang out with my dog.  My social stuff is generally with rink people.  That’s where the problem is.  My ex-boyfriend and I had a ton of issues, and sometimes D and I would talk about them.  He always said that the first and biggest issue was that we met at the rink, and you should never shit where you sleep.  Don’t dip your pen in the company ink.  The metaphors are plentiful, and all of them are true.

Why is this relevant?  Well, yesterday, this guy (and he shall have to be called “this guy” because I don’t know his name!) that I talk to at the rink asked me to go to a Stars game.  He asked really casually, like, “Hey, do you have plans tonight?  Cuz if not, I have an extra ticket to the game if you want to go.”  So it wasn’t like “Hey, you wanna go on a hot date and have sex all over the city?”  Unfortunately, I reacted like he went with option number two and freaked out like a fifteen year old girl (that was D’s assessment of my behavior when I told him today).

I’ve got to get organized and go more in order here.  First of all, what I said in response was something like, “Oh, we’re doing the Trick or Treat thing tonight, and I have my son, so I really can’t”, but inside my mind was reeling and I’m pretty sure I was hyperventilating.  Not a pretty sight.  My palms were definitely sweating.  What was going through my mind?  All sorts of crap including what would happen if I dated him, what would happen when (yes, when – call me a pessimist if you like) it didn’t work out, what would happen when I had to face him at the rink after letting him see me naked, etc etc.  Typical freak-out stuff for me.  Anyway, we talked for a few minutes after that, and then I went downstairs.

Downstairs, Natasha told me that I should go out with the new ops guy (aka, “this guy”, duh).  She was like, “He’s really an engineer”, which I already know because he told me a while back.  I think he has his own company and normally does most of his worky stuff at night, leaving the days open to skate, play open hockey, and apparently, drive the Zamboni.  I told Natasha that I was still in my dating moratorium.

I guess I should thank him for freaking me out so much because I kind of quit spazzing about my dance test on Sunday.  It’s like when D gives me something scarier than normal to work on and I’m suddenly not afraid of my old tricks.  Like when an outside Mohawk was making me a nutter, he gave me the Foxtrot Mohawk.  And when that freaked me out, he gave me the Killian Choctaw.

Anyway, one of the main issues here is the “Don’t sleep where you shit” rule.  I can’t go out with someone at the rink.  I can be friends with everyone at the rink.  It’s just too awkward otherwise.  I mean, what do you do if you go out with someone and it sucks and then you have to see them at the one place that you go to not deal with people crap?  That rink has my own world right inside it.  I don’t have to worry about being divorced or my son or my family or my dog or world peace or any of that shit.  I go there for me.  I go there to work on this crazy skating stuff that’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.  It’s a place I go where the only complications are supposed to be skating related (crush on coach notwithstanding – that’s a proximity thing and nothing will ever happen because it’s just riddled with complexity).

Now, that’s all fine and dandy, but considering that my world revolves around that rink, you have to wonder where I’m going to find a dude when I’m ready to date again (my reaction to a non-date date thing made it quite obvious to me that I am clearly not ready).  So I think I need to broaden my circle.  If I ever go on another date, the guy cannot be someone in my skating circle.  Maybe I need to join a gym.  Hey, if I did that, maybe I could finish losing this stupid weight.  Urgh!  Of course, then you end up with your gym circle, and you don’t want to date out of that pool either, right?

As far as how I don’t know “this guy’s” name – that happened because he skated on the adult sessions that I was skating on (though not anymore – I use the freestyle sessions now because there aren’t any hockey guys on them.  Ironic, eh?) and we would chit-chat during the sessions.  I guess we’re both social retards who don’t introduce ourselves.  I just hate that, “Oh, by the way, my name’s Renee, what’s yours?” shit.  Honestly, I don’t know if he knows my name either, but I suppose he could’ve asked someone.

So to sum up – not ready for dating!  It’s funny because J and I can have conversations about possibilities with me and D and I’m not threatened by it at all.  It doesn’t bother me because I know it’s safe since nothing will actually happen.  We can all think about it, but we all know it’s totally unrealistic (well, I know that, and D knows that, but I don’t think J knows because he’s still trying to get us together!).  Fantasyland is a lovely place.  I’m not so fond of having the reality whack me upside the head.  Egads!

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