Saturday, February 4, 2012

Gentlemen, Gosling, Google.

Gentlemen, gosling and google. What do these three things have in common? My weekend.

Friday night I went on a date (yes, you read that correctly. Pick your jaws up off the floor now). a legitimate date. Now anyone who knows me knows that I don't date. I hyperventilate at the thought of awkward silences, forced conversation, and pretending to be on my best behavior. Even imagining having to sit across from someone I barely know for hours on end trading pointless questions back and forth and "getting to know each other" makes me want to vom. Lit er all y. I dont care what kind of music you like, i actually couldnt care less. So I don't do it. I avoid dating at all costs. I am completely unapproachable at bars, I stand around with my arms crossed and don't make eye contact with anyone who may show the slightest bit of interest. And I wonder why I'm still single?

Funny story that my mom reminded me of. When I was about 15 I liked a boy I went to school with soooo much. Like I died for him. We talked for hours on end every night on the phone and I thought I'd never like someone more. He was 19 and after A lot of convincing, my mom finally accepted the fact that he was older and I was old enough to date. He came over to hang out for the first time (outside of school of course) and asked me to go get ice cream. I went inside to ask my mom and when she said I could go, I FLIPPED. Full on anxiety attack. I begged my mom to say no, and explained to her that I could talk to him all the time on the phone but having to sit in the car with him and sit at an ice cream place with him would be SO awkward. I was also convinced that at 19 he was going to be ready to get serious and settle down, and i was just not ready for that. She made me go.

10 years later, I feel the exact same way about dating. I begged my mom to tell me I couldn't go on this date Friday, and just like 10 years ago she made me go.

So I went out with a guy. Don't get me wrong, there was much hesitation and plenty of excuses being thought up in my head, but for some reason a weird 5 hour stomach virus didn't seem very believable. But against my better judgement I allowed this guy to make dinner reservations, bring me to dinner and then to drinks after. I let him open all of the doors for me and pick me up at my house. I carried on conversations with someone I don't know, and it wasn't in the least bit awkward. He was a complete gentlemen and it didn't freak me out in the least. Or maybe he was a total inappropriate jerk, I wouldn't remember because I drank entirely too much wine. Note to self: on date 2.5 (lunch on tuesday was the .5) don't drink as much. Yes, there is a date 2.5 already. Super Bowl Sunday is as good as any for a date, right?

My Saturday? Spent shopping. Why? Because i like to reward myself for doing things out of my comfort zone, ie dates. Pavlov's dog? Yes. I scored some great deals and added tops, statement necklaces, running shoes and a great vintage shirt to my wardrobe. My Saturday night? Spent watching a Gosling marathon. Because there are very few things in this world that I love more than Ryan Gosling. Drive, Crazy Stupid Love and of course, the Notebook. Perfect Saturday night.

Also, I googled myself. Just out of pure boredom. I came across my old MySpace page, which I want to delete now (because it's completely irrelevant in the social networking world). First problem is you have to be able to log in to delete your account. I don't remember my password so when I tried to reset it, they emailed me instructions. Second problem is I don't have that email address anymore. So I guess my MySpace page will forever be in cyberspace for people to see. There is nothing more embarrassing than a MySpace page last updated in 2006.

Ok, maybe getting so drunk on date 1.5 that i don't remember the last half of the conversation and then vomitting up all of the wine I guzzled is a little more embarrassing than my MySpace page.

So cheers to the one man I would have no problem going on dates with. Mostly because there would be no need for conversation, our lips would be too busy for pointless questions about favorite music genre.

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