This week should be the last gasp of winter in North Texas, and I hope this means that writing will get easier.  I mean, it’s never easy, but it would be great not to resent it.

Last week, I flew to Los Angeles to have lunch with the good phone guy (GPG), the one who appreciated my ability to talk intelligently about current world events.  I’ve reduced the summary to one word, which you see in the title of the post:  fizzle.

I only heard from him once between our talk on the phone and having lunch with him, which was ok with me.  Maybe this was a first bad sign.  At the time, I didn’t think anything of it.  We’re all busy people, and I don’t hear from everyone I know all the time.  All the “literature” out there indicates, though, that he should have been pursuing me.  Man, I hate ‘literature.”

Anyway, we met for lunch, we didn’t discuss anything new, really, and GPG came across as a bit of a know-it-all.  He let me know that the bouncy elevator at my hotel indicated cables nearing the end of their lifecycle, that the rats in my attic are going to reproduce like crazy, and that if I want to move to Italy I should do it as soon as possible because I am not getting any younger.

This is not a dealbreaker, because I have a surprising number of know-it-alls in my life (I fight my own know-it-all tendencies every hour of every day).  His brand of know-it-all, though, came with a huge helping of disdain, and disdain repulses me.  It’s fine to be happy and secure in the decisions that you’ve made in your life — I think that’s wonderful, actually.  It took years of coaching and introspection and crying for me to have a tenuous grasp on this.  It’s not ok to look down on people who have made decisions different than yours.  GPG had a lot to say about how his boss, the CEO of the company that he works for, spends his millions.  It’s not anyone’s business but the CEO’s how he spends his money.

Setting aside the disdain and the comparison (comparison is a game that ends in everyone who plays losing — so why play?), I didn’t drawl or spontaneously laugh a single time.  Over the last six months, I’ve noticed that if I like you and like having you in my life, I will drawl, maybe for emphasis, maybe because I think something will sound funnier with a Texas accent.  Whatever the reason, if we are friends, you have heard me drawl.

It’s early days for me to be drawling with GPG, I guess.  I can explain that away, too (the things I have to explain away are piling up, though, yes?).  The dealbreaker is that I didn’t laugh spontaneously.  Many of you will say that I’m being too picky or too hard on him.  And I say with all due respect and love — you don’t get to decide that.  I love to laugh.  Next to traveling, I think it’s my favorite thing to do.  The friends with whom I spend the most time are the ones who make me laugh the hardest.  Why should I give this up when I’m evaluating men for partnership?  It’s hard enough to get through hard times without laughing, but now I have to go through good times without laughing too?  I should save laughing not for the person who’s sharing my life but for my other friends?  I should share my life with someone who’s not one of my favorite people to laugh with?  Am I still single because I didn’t realize that relationships are not supposed to be fun or filled with laughter?

Anyway, I’m staying with eH+ because technically, they met the terms of our deal:  they found someone before March 1 I’d be willing to talk to three times.  If GPG calls, I’ll answer the phone.  I’m definitely not going to spend money, miles, or points to meet him in person somewhere, though.  Not until I drawl and he makes me laugh.  My standards are not too high; maybe the world’s expectations for me are too low.