(no subject)
I feel like the past few months have been so worthy of chronicling but even I could not seem to come up with the words to describe everything that has been going on. I've decided to do it anyway, even though I know my explanation won't come close to expressing what I feel....
Somewhere in my transition from a disgruntled Zim employee to a stress-free writer at a small agency, I became very close with an ex-coworker who listened, traded stories, offered advice, basically kept me entertained all day. On the outside, Courtney and I may seem very different, but I soon learned that on the inside, we're pretty similar. After dipping my toes into the dating pool and finding it a littler colder than I'd dressed for, Courtney pushed me to sign up for Match. Just to meet some people, get some experience. After being 'out of the game' for so long, I really had no idea what was going on out there.
So I signed up, and created what had to have been one of the lamest profiles in the history of the internet. After reading Courtney's, I was inspired to spice mine up. After all, I'm not really one to go more than three sentences without injecting a little sarcasm and humor. So I let my crazy loose all over the page, including a random admission about my love & hate relationship with dinosaurs, tornadoes, running and salt/vinegar chips. More on that later.
I don't mean this to sound vain, but I got a lot of emails. It was almost overwhelming. I'm not used to being picky, but Courtney told me to respond only to people who piqued my interest. Sound advice. I didn't respond to many, didn't want it to get confusing.
Eventually, I had a date.
The explanation of that night really needs its own entry. It was one of the most disastrous first dates ever, not in the sense that the guy had a hideous deformation or extreme halitosis or anything, but that my own ridiculous luck got in the way. Long story short, I lost the keys to my mom's Jeep at a mini-golf course. After searching for entirely too long with no luck, the only option I had left was to ask a guy I'd just met to drive me 40 minutes to my parents' house to pick up the spare. Of course, as soon as we returned to the car, someone magically found my keys. Then I was almost refused service at a bar because the waiter didn't believe my (real) ID could be so horrible. If you know me well, you've probably seen the picture. Anyway, it ended up being a decent date regardless of the troubles.
But I felt like I was settling for the first person I'd met, so I continued to check my inbox. I got an email from a guy whose profile I'd looked at while secretly hoping he'd message me. How middle-school of me. He inquired about my hatred towards dinosaurs, not believe anyone could ever dislike such an awesome monster. His responses to my emails were hilarious and I couldn't say no when he asked to set up a date.
I literally remember the first time I saw him, which is an image I regularly command my brain to conjure up so I will not lose it in the constant shuffle of memories. He was neatly dressed, wearing a black polo shirt, jeans and black shoes. He was crossing the road at Mizner Park and immediately I panicked for a moment, not quite sure how to receive him. I boldly went for the hello-hug, which apparently surprised him to the point where it was visibly obvious. Ooops.
Anyway, the night was a string of consecutive (and delicious) beers at several different Irish pubs. There was also some Irish food in there, and tons of conversation. Sometimes I wonder how I was able to drink all four of those beers. I think I must've burned them off by talking. No joke! My worry that he wouldn't be talkative was completely obliterated long before I realized we'd been talking for 5 hours straight with no end in sight. I remember thinking over and over in my head, "just grab my hand!" but it didn't happen that night. It did end with a kiss on the cheek and a promise for a second date....
Somewhere in my transition from a disgruntled Zim employee to a stress-free writer at a small agency, I became very close with an ex-coworker who listened, traded stories, offered advice, basically kept me entertained all day. On the outside, Courtney and I may seem very different, but I soon learned that on the inside, we're pretty similar. After dipping my toes into the dating pool and finding it a littler colder than I'd dressed for, Courtney pushed me to sign up for Match. Just to meet some people, get some experience. After being 'out of the game' for so long, I really had no idea what was going on out there.
So I signed up, and created what had to have been one of the lamest profiles in the history of the internet. After reading Courtney's, I was inspired to spice mine up. After all, I'm not really one to go more than three sentences without injecting a little sarcasm and humor. So I let my crazy loose all over the page, including a random admission about my love & hate relationship with dinosaurs, tornadoes, running and salt/vinegar chips. More on that later.
I don't mean this to sound vain, but I got a lot of emails. It was almost overwhelming. I'm not used to being picky, but Courtney told me to respond only to people who piqued my interest. Sound advice. I didn't respond to many, didn't want it to get confusing.
Eventually, I had a date.
The explanation of that night really needs its own entry. It was one of the most disastrous first dates ever, not in the sense that the guy had a hideous deformation or extreme halitosis or anything, but that my own ridiculous luck got in the way. Long story short, I lost the keys to my mom's Jeep at a mini-golf course. After searching for entirely too long with no luck, the only option I had left was to ask a guy I'd just met to drive me 40 minutes to my parents' house to pick up the spare. Of course, as soon as we returned to the car, someone magically found my keys. Then I was almost refused service at a bar because the waiter didn't believe my (real) ID could be so horrible. If you know me well, you've probably seen the picture. Anyway, it ended up being a decent date regardless of the troubles.
But I felt like I was settling for the first person I'd met, so I continued to check my inbox. I got an email from a guy whose profile I'd looked at while secretly hoping he'd message me. How middle-school of me. He inquired about my hatred towards dinosaurs, not believe anyone could ever dislike such an awesome monster. His responses to my emails were hilarious and I couldn't say no when he asked to set up a date.
I literally remember the first time I saw him, which is an image I regularly command my brain to conjure up so I will not lose it in the constant shuffle of memories. He was neatly dressed, wearing a black polo shirt, jeans and black shoes. He was crossing the road at Mizner Park and immediately I panicked for a moment, not quite sure how to receive him. I boldly went for the hello-hug, which apparently surprised him to the point where it was visibly obvious. Ooops.
Anyway, the night was a string of consecutive (and delicious) beers at several different Irish pubs. There was also some Irish food in there, and tons of conversation. Sometimes I wonder how I was able to drink all four of those beers. I think I must've burned them off by talking. No joke! My worry that he wouldn't be talkative was completely obliterated long before I realized we'd been talking for 5 hours straight with no end in sight. I remember thinking over and over in my head, "just grab my hand!" but it didn't happen that night. It did end with a kiss on the cheek and a promise for a second date....