Saturday was a beautiful, beautiful day. Because I had us scheduled for a Taiwanese meetup in Sunnyvale, John and I were up early for a Saturday. The event was a BBQ Potluck, and I volunteered to take hummus and pita (Oddly, I think I was the only person there eating hummus). We hit our new fave hummus place (good old Trader Joe’s), and then off we went on a scenic drive down I-280. I suppose I’ve really grown accustomed to urban development, because I couldn’t help but be wowed by the vast open fields and big trees, courtesy of the Stanford University endowment (which is over $20 BILLION, but I just got btw). With the backdrop of a clear blue sky, the landscape was breathtaking…
Even so, I still have to piss on the parade: well, I mean the fields were all burnt! No dense, lush, green foilage (as on the East Coast). Zippo. All yellow, frizzy, and crunchy like a perm job gone seriously awry. Then again, who’s really complaining. This place gets no rain; that’s part of the CA charm. 🙂
Anyway, John and I arrived at Ortega Park right on time. In the end, probably 40 people showed up. Final vote? The event turned out less promising than expected. First, as John pointed out every half hour, he was the ONLY white dude. In my defense, how the hell was I supposed to know? I mean, yes, it’s a Taiwanese meetup, but surely some Taiwanese hook up with whiteys??! Or what about people who study abroad or people whose families are stationed in Asia? Seriously, my assumption should have been solid.
My second guess (that was also incorrect) was that there would be singles and couples at the meetup. Nope. I dunno what was up… There were older, mommy-looking types there, but they acted single. What the hell? Not that relationship status matters, but I’m just saying again, sometimes it affects the vibe, you know? About the whitey thing though, John should just get over his whole “Outsider” hangup. After all, welcome to my world.
So the meetup was ok; I met some nice people actually. Maybe like two with whom I actually conversed longer than five minutes. They were friendly, nice women, but in the end, I didn’t get their contact info, so what does that say? Same deal with John. Met maybe one dude he thought was ok (from Maryland, no less), but again, no contact info. And by 12:30, John was harassing the shit out of me about leaving. He had eaten his two sausage dogs and apparently, that signaled the end. So damn impatient, I tell you. I wanted to say goodbye to my two “prospects” (for lack of a better word), but they were talking to other people and god forbid John wait another five minutes for me to butt in and get numbers. Yeah, so in conclusion, meetup 3 was a total bust. So far I’m 1 for 3, the one being the anti-trafficking group. There’s a lipstick and politics meetup tomorrow in the city… not sure if I’m ready to take that on. The discussion question was, “What does it mean to be a woman?” Oh god, let me dig up my Women’s Studies 101 notes. Shit, I didn’t sign up for deep issues like that!
I have to admit though, my whole meetup experience has given me new insights. Now I totally understand the frustration of my single friends. Meeting new people for fun is such a fucking chore; I can’t even imagine meeting people for relationships. Ugh! Sucks, man!
But the larger picture is this: commonality is overrated in terms of connecting with people. Proximity (physical) is the answer. That’s why I feel closest to my friends made during my years in school. Oh god, how old does that make me sound? Middle school, high school, college, grad school. Sure, all of that was years ago and we drifted in and out of touch, but in the end, that spark lived on. Why? Because the foundation was strong. Weird, sorry that phrase conjured a Papa Gou image.
And more and more, I’m thinking that the bond isn’t just there from the start; it’s something that forms through repetition– seeing these people in class, living next door or down the street… I don’t know. All I can say is I compare each prospect with a tried and true, and very rarely do I believe the crossover will eventually happen. What does that mean??! I’m a skeptical beotch, man. And the high standards never die. What can I do.