continual turns for the better

Well, in addition to further realizing some of the best friendships of my life right here in South Bend, getting my laundry done for me, arranging a new and improved living room complete with small charming writing desk and huge comfy armchair (transporting which up the narrow staircase required the intervention of MP's cousin Tom, removing a door from its hinges, scraping a track in the paint on either side of the wall, and much banging, hammering, and swearing), organizing all the crap in my apartment to make it a recognizable place of human habitation, and sporting a softly sexy new haircut that allows me to wear my hair down for the first time in eight months, my life is taking some fun new twists.

MP's landlord is the coolest, chillest child of the Baby Boomer generation, holds dinner parties/folk music jam sessions on Thursday nights, and has extended a standing invitation to attend to MP and myself -- all we need to do is bring a dish. (This will have the added benefit of encouraging me to cook again.) Furthermore, he plays open mic at the Fiddler's regularly, and has told me if I pick out three songs that will go over fifteen minutes, I can perform with them (my joy knows no bounds).

And then on Sunday, my boss, his wife, their son (all of whom work at the office) and their son's fiancee (who forwarded them my resume) had a cookout at the big house, to which I was invited, and for which I was asked to provide transportation to a guy named George whose car has broken down over the summer. George and I bonded immediately over Josh Ritter, gabbled all the way up to Edwardsburg, talked our way through the cookout, and conversed all the way home. As I dropped him off, he said, "Sarah, I'd really like to take you out." I said, "George, I'd really like to go."

Yesterday he called and scheduled our date (and yes, my friends, he used the word "date" -- not "let's hang out" or "d'you wanna grab coffee") for Friday night.

He's (I think I remember him being) a bit taller than I am, with an animated, engaging face and direct eye contact. He's from Pennsylvania (Yuengling forever!) and turns thirty a week after I turn twenty-five. We hold slightly differing political views (but only slightly, as, while I am personally conservative, I am socially more liberal), and vastly different religious views (he is an agnostic); but his conversation is interesting, his manner easygoing, and his company pleasant; and he and I are both relaxed and respectful of differing viewpoints, so it should make for a fun Friday evening.

Stacy, my bosses' future daughter-in-law, confessed to having set up the whole thing (which I had suspected from the get-go...Sunday as I was getting ready to go, I felt instinctively that I ought to do something nice with my hair; having never met George, I felt nonetheless that perhaps a date was on the way).

Anyway, I now have something to anticipate over the weekend. And, okay, I can't help it, here goes...

Am no longer date pariah!