The New M.E. Generation











{December 2, 2013}   Looking Back 22 – Knowing me

The rest of the day and evening turned out great.

We visited a city I had gotten to know two times before with my friend. I was glad I was again for a third with the person who introduced it to me and helped me create such fond memories.

The location has a colonial architecture and it’s famous for its old style streets, restaurants, and businesses. It’s a tourist location worth discovering.

It was yet another travel back in time filled with nostalgia and mixed emotions.

The situation repeated itself. I was just out of college and had no idea what direction to take. Now I felt old, but still as scared as I did before.

The streets were beautiful and as we walked them, I looked at other couples and families together. I looked at them as if I had never experienced this myself.

I envied them and started fantasizing how it would feel walking with a loved one holding hands under all those lights. He and I would be together for some time and were spending the weekend there. And before it was over, he would propose. I can’t think of another place for that to happen but there.

My friend and I had dinner at the same restaurant we did the last time and it was an unforgettable experience. My trip was going better and better with each day, and it was a true blessing.

On the way back ‘home’, which was pretty late, I asked my friend to drive. It had been a long day and I was tired.

I called the ‘beach guy’ as agreed. He didn’t answer so I left a message stating that I was driving back and I knew it was late, but did so as discussed. I also said that ‘you will probably not head my way tonight’, but hope we could still see each other before my trip ended.

I don’t know why I felt such a detailed message. He had told me he was complicated tomorrow. So it was irrelevant to say again that I hoped to see him. It’s going to sound that I’m desperate and it’s not good.

I keep doing these minor things that scare guys away. I should have just said, ‘Hey, I’m heading back. Call me if you can.’ This way it shows I’m interested in him, but if it doesn’t work out, I’ll be fine with it.

But knowing me, I will always wonder if I did the right thing. Seriously, who cares? This weekend is all about me, not him or any other guy (except the one on the driver’s seat).

Cheers to that!

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While the two guys and I talked about the past days of high school, the guy sitting next to Dina is really working her into his conversation. How committed was he? He had his hand on her thigh.

Say what?? When did that happen? Guess remembering the past got me disconnected. When I come to think about it, yes, it did. It actually made me feel young to be remembered for who I was way back then. Back then when I was just myself, Emma.

Even more, who would have thought that this chance re-encounter made me forget my present reality? To top it all of even more, the guy is still sitting, by himself, at the bar, still staring at me.

I shared a drink with my former alumni when we all noticed that the bar was about to close for the night. I turned to Dina and asked her if she was ready to leave (with him or myself was fine by me). The ‘hand in the thigh guy’ was not letting her go, so I asked Dina what she wanted to do. She chose option #2; he was to accompany her home.

I then asked the guys to give me their business card or something with the hope of keeping in touch in the future.

As soon as I said good-bye to the two guys, the ‘guy at the bar’ jumped from his seat and asked me if he could have my phone number.

Aaah…I was so completely caught off guard that the only thing I could respond was, “could I have yours and I’ll call you?”

He wrote it on the back of the business card, quickly introduced ourselves, and off we went (Dina and me, ‘hand in the thigh guy’ included).

We all walked to my car and I noticed that these two were holding hands. ‘Nice,’ I thought. Wonder what will happen to Dina and me. Well, in my case, that all depends if I make the call.



In the time that followed, Jay and I kept chatting about the trip. Along the way we got to open up and know each other more. I even started sending him text messages late at night before I went to bed.

Our friendship grew little by little, and he was appreciating my texting. He responded once that he looked forward to them and that it greatly helped him get through the day.

Around 2 months before he set a tentative date, Jay started taking care of the other parts of the logistics. First item, could I search possible places for him to stay? No problem.

Actually, there’s one. Around where I live, there’s not that many or affordable hotels. Now that’s a problem.

I kept giving it a thought. So, what’s is it going to be?

“Jay, you know, for what you would spend daily on a hotel, might as well stay at my place and crash on the sofa.” (Did I just say that? Hello! I just opened the door to him.)

“I had thought about that but was afraid to ask. Even if it means sleeping in an air mattress, it’s fine by me.”

All right, sleeping situation resolved.

Sort of.



I get a call from my financial planner informing me that my health insurance had been approved. That’s great news for me. I may have had a rough year, but I’m proud at myself that I got this matter resolved, especially when my annual gynecological visit was coming up.

I called the medical office to make an appointment and, as usual, there’s no immediate availability for any of the doctors I have met with before but until six months from now.

I insisted with the appointment setter that my exam was due and that I would take any open date.

“Well,” said she, “there’s availability next week with ‘Dr. H.’”
(Darn it! I know all the other ones in the group and there’s no choice but with one I have no idea who it is? So it’s either him or half a year from now. What it is going to be?)
“Fine, book it. Thank you.”

My appointment day arrives and I’m a nervous wreck, as always. I basically hate having to take my clothes off, wear a hospital gown, plus get touched all over during the examination.

What in a guy’s right mind would motivate him to become a gynecologist? I mean, you’re dealing with naked bodies of all shapes and size the whole freaking day.

And what about the births? You really need to have a thick skin to make them happen.

And another thing…(the doctor walks in into the examination room), who are you??
(OMG!!! My ob-gyn is a hottie!!!)
I’m trying to conceal my obvious facial expression of amazement, and his is of ‘oh, no, not again.’

We reviewed the usual health questions, and I kept looking at him throughout the whole conversation.

“All right,” said he, “let’s do your check-up.”
(Fine by me! Take all the time that you need.)

The examination felt quicker than in previous years and everything went very smoothly.

“Well, all done,” said he. “I hope there was no discomfort.”
(None whatsoever. Honey, you can keep touching me all that you want.)

My ob-gyn finished writing his notes on my medical chart. I’m still looking at him very attentively.

“Do you have any last questions for me?”
(Yes, like, are you single? If you are, what are you doing for lunch or after work, or the rest of your life?)
“Ah, nope.”

Dr. H exits the room and I remained seated on the examination table for a couple of minutes.

Damn it! I know what’s happening to me. I’ve been alone for a while and feel that I’m ready to have a relationship again.

But, am I feeling this because I’m alone or because I am really ready to take a chance at love?

I don’t know.

Only time will tell.



et cetera