As I noted in a prior post, I am glad to have dated certain people at a particular period in my life.
Just as I had never anticipated dating a younger guy, I never thought I would date someone substantially older as well.
I was drawn to B.’s handsome decency and emotional turmoil — he had just recently divorced and was trying to sort out his life by performing at the local poetry slam. It seemed safe to be with him as he had already passed through the settling stages of establishing a family and career, elements that I and my peers were still struggling to secure.
But I felt uneasy with the arrangement: what would his kids think if they met me? What about his ex-wife?
We attended a party hosted by Craig Arnold, who was then a Hodder Fellow at Princeton, celebrating National Poetry Month. There, I felt tension within not only Craig’s relationship with his wife (whom he later divorced) but with another academic guest’s marriage as well. Why did it seem that divorce was so prevalent within academia?
I regularly read the bloggers who pen smitten kitchen, The Amateur Gourmet, Orangette, and Viet World Kitchen. They’re all veterans of the blogging world, some of whom are at the seven-year-mark. I am just starting out, a newbie, and yet I still feel unhinged because I am speaking from a single person’s viewpoint.
I don’t think this should affect the coverage that you see on this blog but I do wonder how it colors the voice of my posts. And on second thought, it does influence the topics of this blog as I don’t cover restaurants or food happenings that involve kids. Perhaps this is my niche in the blogosphere then.
There’s quite an age gap between my sister and I — six years — eight, if you include the gestation time for both of us (which the Chinese consider as an extra year in edad).
I was still in middle school when my sister would come home from college to visit our family. I particularly remember the time we both watched “Ally McBeal.”
“Lawyers aren’t that good-looking,” she said. “And they don’t dress that well.” I took note of this comment and sat quietly watching Ally and Billy fall in love.
Revisiting the series now on Netflix, I pay attention to the episodes with Robert Downey, Jr.. He reminds me of a guy I dated who was much younger than I… smart, goofy, hip, as beautiful as Robert Downey, Jr. and perhaps as self-absorbed. I never thought that I would date anyone like that, ever, in all my mind-dating scenarios. But it was good that I did at this time, rather than as a younger, more naive self, as I would not have linked his hand tremors with possible drug use or drug side effects. Nor would I have connected his energy slumps and weight gain with that drug usage.
In my sister’s medical school class at Mt. Sinai, there were many non-traditional students — dancers, cookbook writers, thirty- and forty-somethings. In college, I had forfeited my spot with the same program that she attended; while I regret doing this, I am glad I waited to attend medical school. As a young intern, my sister had difficulty recognizing the signs of domestic abuse with a patient at the Chinatown clinic. When I do my residency, I hope that my observations of people in real life and in private practice will inform me of their disease etiologies.
Early on in my writing forays, a former co-worker introduced the term “mind-dating” to me.
Mind-dating is when you imagine different scenarios with a person you’re interested in but in reality, you’re not taking any action, M. said.
Recently, I’ve been reviewing my past loves as the hot weather has drained thoughts of my eternal love, gastronomy, for the present time.
Would my love life have been different had I dated B., the boy-next-door, in eighth grade? How could I have done things differently with I. in high school? Would that have changed my fate?