Catholic guilt rears its head

But not for the reason you might think.

Nope - I'm not questioning this whole project.  Instead, guilt has been rearing its ugly head because my sister commented that I've been "mean to Joe in the blog."  And that was only a couple days after Joe himself told me that I'd missed some of what he'd said. 

So, I just want to say for the record - I'm sorry.  I really do like Joe.  I care about him quite a bit.  We still spend time together.  I do not have ill feelings toward him.  I do not intend to be mean to him.  I also do not intend to misrepresent him or his words.  (At the risk of doing so now, though, let me be clear - he did say that as it's my blog I can write whatever I like.  He's not offended.  He understands the creative license that goes into paraphrasing a half hour conversation into a short-ish blog post.  He has, more-or-less, given his blessing for me to write anything I'd like about him.  And he says that not only will he not mind, he'll still like me.  So I have to ask - what's not to love?)

Guilt is a funny thing.  I'm convinced that my relationship with guilt has a whole lot to do with those years and years of Catholic school.  Thus, despite the fact that he doesn't have a problem with it, my sister's admonition that I've been mean to Joe compels me to issue a public apology.

I'm sorry, Joe, if anything I've written about you on this blog has been mean. 
I think you're a good person..

I'm grateful to have met you.

I'm glad you're in my life.

Even if the realities of how you're in my life have changed.

"Love" at first reply

So, I've promised over and over that there does, in fact, exit a happy tale in this whole CL dating scene. My cousin is married to a man she met through CL personals. But of course, you know what I really mean - there even exists a moderately happy tale in my life.

You've all read the fortune cookie ad. I hated that ad; you probably hated that ad; and I can tell you someone else who hated it.

I'd sent that ad into the ether and started hearing back from man after man who could care less who I was or what I wanted. I kind of think they barely cared who they were or what they wanted. I diligently responded to each and every ad. (Which, by the way, is a LOT harder when you haven't said anything about yourself in the first ad - it's just a whole lot more work.) Then I got a response from someone we'll be calling Joe. And those of you who know "Joe" are just going to have to get used to the pseudonym; if it matters to you, he sort of chose, and therefore sort of approves of, the name. Joe got right to the point:

Subject: Fate, Kismet, Destiny

Do you believe a cookie can really tell your fortune :) ? Do you believe in things like fate or destiny? I guess, that would beg the question, Do you believe in God?

Oh, and if you have a choice about someplace cold to visit...I'd go to Ireland :)

Now, I read these few sentences again all these months later, and I'm not sure that I can adequately explain myself. The truth is, I was totally hooked. I loved that he was willing to call me on my shit. Of course I responded; the rules guaranteed that I would. But I anxiously awaited his subsequent response, and I was eager to learn more.

It was only a few emails in before Joe suggested we try either chatting online or meeting up for Thai food (which had somehow become a primary subject of our conversation). The chatting came first but didn't last long. He was trying to tell me about something going on at work, and the chat format was proving difficult. So I gave him my phone number, he called, and we talked for nearly an hour before I had to head out for a previously planned event. But I was giddy throughout, and I really just wanted to get back to the conversation. I logged on to chat with him as soon as I got home, and we "talked" far into the night. It had been years since I'd stayed up that late.

I was so intrigued that I told him right then and there that my ad had, in some ways, been disingenuous. I told him about the blog. And he had no qualms with it. I was more intrigued.

The next day we met up for Thai food, and I was so nervous I could barely stand it. I hadn't been that nervous to meet someone for a very long time - maybe even never. I was so sure throughout lunch that he wasn't interested. We joke about it now: I swear he never looked me in the eye; he's certain that's not true. Regardless, I left the restaurant knowing that I was more intrigued than before and absolutely convinced that he was done.

He wasn't.

By the time I was back at a computer, he had sent me a message saying that he'd enjoyed lunch. I responded that I wasn't sure he was still interested. He replied that he was more interested after lunch than he was before.

Whew! But I wasn't totally convinced.

I had a family function that night, but when I checked my phone at the end of it, he'd left a text message asking if I might like to go for a walk.

Whew! I was totally convinced.

And, well, we spent the next 7 months together. He still claims to have hated my ad. He says he responded because he wanted to give me some advice about how to write an ad, how to "sell" myself. He says he was feeling a little sorry for me and was pretty sure that he could help. I tell him that it seems to have worked pretty well. He says that's not true -- I didn't get what I wanted; I may have gotten him, but since I was looking for fodder for this blog, the ad failed.

Reader Participation:
What do you think, dear readers? Did the ad work? Or does the fact that Joe and I had a healthy relationship and good fun for 7 months prove that it didn't?