Weekend Recap: Signs?

What an interesting weekend...

Well, you probably all know by now that I am dating a new boy. And, we have a lot in common, which is always nice. We're both from PA, we like the same music, we're both ridiculously ambitious, we're even both athletic and go to the same gym. But there was one thing he said on our first date that stuck out to me more than most other things. The story follows.

Many of you know how much I love the Phillies. I am your typical Philly sports fan anyway, but there's just something about baseball that's in my family blood. I've been going to games since I was in diapers. Well, some of you might also know that my favorite player of all time is Mike Schmidt, who was the Phillies third baseman in the 70's and 80's and is widely regarded as the best 3B of all time. I've been wearing his number since I was in elementary school, playing his position, and widely regarding #20 as my lucky number throughout most of my life.

But anyway, back to the date. Well, I had only told him that I was from Philly and also that I am a sports fan. Then he mentioned out of nowhere (just to start conversation I'm sure) that he actually was at the game where Mike Schmidt hit his milestone 500th homerun. crazy!!! And yes, I checked. Michael Jack sure enough did hit his 500th in Pittsburgh in 1987. I would kill for that ticket. but, odd coincidence? or sign?

Well, three dates later, we're about to go out Saturday night. In talking to a good friend that day, I had said completely out of the blue that I wanted him to really make an effort, and that he should bring me flowers since he was picking me up this time. It was all totally tongue in cheek. We both know by now not to expect anything like that. But, he picked me up on time, and (you guessed it) he came bearing flowers!

Are there really such things as signs? Or is this just a way for old world romantics to make sense out of the world? I am not sure what I believe. But, I also know that the same friend had a situation too involving a seat choice that was just as eerie. But, then again, I once dated a boy whose favorite number was also 20. In fact, his birthday was on the 20th and so was our anniversary. And, well, that didn't exactly turn out well. Who knows.

I struggle everyday with breaking through the completely grounded rational side of myself and trying at least sometimes to think in reveries rather than fact. Really, though, as a dreamer I am a complete and utter failure. I think also that in my head I have decided that believing in signs effectually forces me to also believe in the other supernatural hands that I've decided at least for awhile to not dwell on at all.

Is it crazy that I am 25 and I still have no idea what in my life to believe in?