And here I thought I was hiding it so well...
So I told you about the freakshow non-matches. Before I get into the good ones, you know, the ones I actually went out with, here’s a little background. Anyone who knows me knows that I am prone to anxiety caused by my uncontrollable habit of overthinking absolutely everything. And when I get anxious, I can’t eat. I used to throw up before school on the first day of every new school year because I was so nervous. I had a nightmare two days before Karen’s wedding about how the song I was singing went horribly wrong, and as a result, I pretty much didn’t eat from Friday morning until dinner at the wedding on Saturday. And those of you who were there know how well THAT turned out. So going on blind dates about undoes me. I stopped eating on Thursday because I started getting all nervous about my date on Friday. I know, I know, never a good idea, especially when the blind date involves going out for drinks, but I managed not to get drunk at either date. Wow, you know you've set the bar low when you're like "Made it through date without getting drunk. Check." That's just sad.
The Friday date was with this guy who won me over with his witty emails. He is hi-larious! We emailed back and forth for about a week, he asked for my number, and we talked and emailed some more until we decided to meet. He was really nice and we had a good time – we were going to play pool but ended up just hanging out and talking – but there was zero spark. When we walked to our cars, there was a hug, and I haven’t heard from him since. Not devastated.
However, then there was the Sunday date. If I was nervous about Friday, I was paralyzed by Sunday. See, the guy I was going out with was this guy I had seen way before I ever had a profile on there, and who I thought was so cute immediately. Much to my surprise, a couple of days after my profile went up, he emailed me. How happy was I about THAT? I emailed him back and didn’t hear anything, so just figured he wasn’t interested. Then a week or so later, he emailed me again, and because there was some issues with the email system, we missed an email here and there, and so he gave me his number. His cell AND work numbers, because he works 24 hour shifts and can talk on the phone unless he gets a call. Because he’s a firefighter. Nice. Oh and also? He’s a finalist for the 2006 Colorado Firefighter Calendar. He’s ok if you like that type. Heh. Turns out I do. So then there was some boring stuff about us playing phone tag and then finally talking and setting up a date for Sunday.
We were going to meet at the Morrison Inn, ostensibly to sit on the patio, but it was raining. Super. So then I had to modify my carefully planned summery outfit (that I got during an incident involving my credit card, Ann Taylor Loft and DSW) to something more “50 degrees in practically June” appropriate. I looked cute though. So I got there first, and he was like two minutes late, which is just about enough time for me to freak out and convince myself that I’m being stood up. He showed up and we had some dinner (which I forced myself to eat some of, against my better judgment – it stayed down, luckily, or this blog would have taken a bad turn right there) and ended up deciding to go to his house and get a movie. So we did, it was fun and there was kissing. And also there was him wanting to see me again. So we talked on Monday and I saw him last night and will be seeing him again on Friday. And Sunday. So we’ll just have to see how this goes. For right now, I think what I’m going to do is totally overthink it, read bad stuff into it that isn’t there, and basically continue to freak out. Because that’s what I do. Though you can’t REALLY blame me, what with the whole Sean Donahue thing and the Not Boyfriend Debacle of ’05. I think my trepidation is somewhat warranted. At least that’s what I’m going to keep telling myself.