One of my cohorts did her tech talk on web scraping (scrapy) today. The example, where she applied the technology, was Craigslist, specifically posts on missing connections. I never realized that was a thing. When asked, she noted that in the past she periodically perused such listings to see if anybody may have been looking for her.
The day before, someone (lost 'n found) had messaged me that he saw my doppelgänger walking as he rode by her on his bicycle on his way to work. Of course, I joked with him that he may have missed his soulmate if he didn't get her number, as he put it, he didn't want a lawsuit. The gentleman from 11:11 (part 6) could have easily been a missed connection from a fleeting night out in Seville with a small group sharing a hostel. It also reminds me of "camera boy" (an early nickname described in hide 'n seek), whom I met that same summer. It was the summer before moments that matter (part 6), and easily both men were seeds to my carpe diem mentality soon thereafter.
Before I realized the conflict between the type I was attracted to vs. the type I should be attracted to (face of the girl (part 1)), my initial reaction to "camera boy" (unsent letters (part 2)) was to politely extricate myself. He was a freelance camera operator for films and documentaries. His crew was loading their equipment into a truck as I walked by on my way to the Farmer's Market in Union Square. I sometimes tune out the world under my headphones, and that day was no different, until I realized that a figure was my actual shadow for a quarter of a block. He kept a respectable distance, didn't touch me, even though he kept trying to talk to me to get my attention. He kindly asked to walk with me for a bit, telling me about himself, rather than the typical catcalling or pick-up lines.
His efforts to make me feel at ease worked, and once we got to the ATM, he asked for my number. Observing my hesitation, he offered to give me his number instead so that I had control of the option. Knowing my propensity at the time to overanalyze, and learning from a lost moment in Seville, I decided to give him my number instead as I knew if it was up to me, I would likely never see him again.
Hours later, as I was heading back home from the Farmer's Market, was it coincidence that I would run into him again as he was heading towards me on 16th Street? Initially, I thought I had a potential stalker until the rational side realized that he would have to be an amazing sprinter to have gone around an avenue block to position himself in a way to be casually walking towards me. He offered to help carry my purchases and walk with me for a bit. The conversation was easygoing for a couple of strangers, and it was a while later before I realized that he was going out of his way to walk my path. He made no untoward gestures when we got to my block, handed me my packages and said that he would have gladly chosen to spend his afternoon on that walk any time.
On our date, I was so intrigued with his stories and life, as it was so foreign from mine or my friends, at that time. Filming a day in the life of a porn star, attending the AVN Awards, traveling the world months on end...was all so fascinating. Yet before I learned to listen to my gut and heart, my brain took over and instigated with thoughts of what could we possibly have in common. So as he went off on an assignment and I started with my period of moments that matter (part 6), we started to go our separate ways. The following January when he returned, he left a message to hopefully pick up where we left off, explaining that he just got back from an assignment in Vietnam, of all places.
As things were picking up with my first, I never did return that call. However, when things ended with my first years later, camera boy was one of the first men I thought about. Since I had only used his nickname that I christened him with, I never could remember his actual name, which is the one that he programmed in my phone that summer day. I also vandalized my own apartment hoping to find his business card that he gave me that day to no avail - of course, laughing at the silliness of my actions at the same time. In the oft-times that I imagine 'what if' or as in this case, missing connections, he infiltrates my memory banks.
In the aftermath of #MeToo and the perceived gray line of a man approaching a woman he may be interested in, "camera boy" was probably the first true gentleman, intermixed with the confident, "bad boy," that I had ever encountered, which turns out to be 'my type'. Over the years as I have come into my true authentic self, he was the reminder that my spiritual self sent my way to teach me that rebellion, fun and respect can be inclusive. His first comment to me turns out to be a life lesson that has taken me over a decade to fully appreciate...he did not want to ever look back and beat himself up for not having tried to meet me that day, as he simultaneously unapologetically explained his persistence in walking with me. I sometimes wonder if our paths would ever just cross again...
Before I realized the conflict between the type I was attracted to vs. the type I should be attracted to (face of the girl (part 1)), my initial reaction to "camera boy" (unsent letters (part 2)) was to politely extricate myself. He was a freelance camera operator for films and documentaries. His crew was loading their equipment into a truck as I walked by on my way to the Farmer's Market in Union Square. I sometimes tune out the world under my headphones, and that day was no different, until I realized that a figure was my actual shadow for a quarter of a block. He kept a respectable distance, didn't touch me, even though he kept trying to talk to me to get my attention. He kindly asked to walk with me for a bit, telling me about himself, rather than the typical catcalling or pick-up lines.
His efforts to make me feel at ease worked, and once we got to the ATM, he asked for my number. Observing my hesitation, he offered to give me his number instead so that I had control of the option. Knowing my propensity at the time to overanalyze, and learning from a lost moment in Seville, I decided to give him my number instead as I knew if it was up to me, I would likely never see him again.
Hours later, as I was heading back home from the Farmer's Market, was it coincidence that I would run into him again as he was heading towards me on 16th Street? Initially, I thought I had a potential stalker until the rational side realized that he would have to be an amazing sprinter to have gone around an avenue block to position himself in a way to be casually walking towards me. He offered to help carry my purchases and walk with me for a bit. The conversation was easygoing for a couple of strangers, and it was a while later before I realized that he was going out of his way to walk my path. He made no untoward gestures when we got to my block, handed me my packages and said that he would have gladly chosen to spend his afternoon on that walk any time.
On our date, I was so intrigued with his stories and life, as it was so foreign from mine or my friends, at that time. Filming a day in the life of a porn star, attending the AVN Awards, traveling the world months on end...was all so fascinating. Yet before I learned to listen to my gut and heart, my brain took over and instigated with thoughts of what could we possibly have in common. So as he went off on an assignment and I started with my period of moments that matter (part 6), we started to go our separate ways. The following January when he returned, he left a message to hopefully pick up where we left off, explaining that he just got back from an assignment in Vietnam, of all places.
As things were picking up with my first, I never did return that call. However, when things ended with my first years later, camera boy was one of the first men I thought about. Since I had only used his nickname that I christened him with, I never could remember his actual name, which is the one that he programmed in my phone that summer day. I also vandalized my own apartment hoping to find his business card that he gave me that day to no avail - of course, laughing at the silliness of my actions at the same time. In the oft-times that I imagine 'what if' or as in this case, missing connections, he infiltrates my memory banks.
In the aftermath of #MeToo and the perceived gray line of a man approaching a woman he may be interested in, "camera boy" was probably the first true gentleman, intermixed with the confident, "bad boy," that I had ever encountered, which turns out to be 'my type'. Over the years as I have come into my true authentic self, he was the reminder that my spiritual self sent my way to teach me that rebellion, fun and respect can be inclusive. His first comment to me turns out to be a life lesson that has taken me over a decade to fully appreciate...he did not want to ever look back and beat himself up for not having tried to meet me that day, as he simultaneously unapologetically explained his persistence in walking with me. I sometimes wonder if our paths would ever just cross again...
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