Tuesday, March 21, 2006

RB stands in for AF

AF still hasn't sent me an update about his Match.com adventures, so today I will share some of my own thoughts on the wild world of dating to fill in. Dad, you may not want to read this one. Jeff, that goes for you, too.

I've now been single for about four months. I've come to really treasure my freedom, but I'm also becoming accustomed to it. Once you truly accept the fact that you can go out dancing and carousing until three in the morning on any given night, there is far less motivation to actually do it on any given night. Yep, I'd say that I'm comfortably settling into singlehood.

I recently thought to myself that I should start going out on some dates. I mean dates in the traditional sense. In my mind, a date is supposed to work this way: meet guy, guy asks you for phone number, guy calls and asks you out on date, you get all gussied up (maybe buying a new top for the occasion, definitely putting on some lip gloss at the very least), go on said date, behave yourself (witty conversation, two-drink limit, maintain a lady-like demeanor), go home afterwards, and maybe go out with guy again if you had fun. There are obviously some variations on that mix, but when I think of going on dates, I am thinking of them specifically in contrast to the much easier things that often stand in for dating -- including activities like renting a DVD with your guy "friend," meeting up to "study," or just repeatedly getting drunk and making out.*

I figure I should go out on some dates, because that is what single girls are supposed to do. I need to rack up some good dating stories now, so I have them to tell my daughters about when they're young women (my mom's personal favorite is about an overly aggressive marine). Plus, if I collect enough crazy dating adventures, I can use them as material for a new chick lit novel with a pink cover and blonde cartoon girl in pumps on the cover.

The problem is that when faced with the prospect of going on a real date, tend to I freeze up. It is somewhat terrifying. What am I supposed to wear? What if I can't think of anything to talk about? What if he's boring? What if I spill? What if I sweat so much that I get pit stains?! Maybe I'm just shy, but renting a DVD and sitting on the couch with someone you already know and are reasonably comfortable with seems so easy and fun when compared to a relatively formal meal with a stranger. Perhaps my social anxiety disorder is flaring up again, but geez dating makes me nervous.

*I am not saying I do or have done any of these things. I'm just saying that in modern times they frequently occur in place of more traditional dates. It's a fact of life.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

chiiiilll...if he's lame, then he'll judge you on everything you're concerned about. if he's not, and actually likes you for who you are, it won't matter if you pit out, get nervous, or otherwise. he'll think it's cute.

Anonymous said...

True dat, Turd.

Never though I'd use those words in succession in my life.

Anonymous said...

why did someone say True Dat, Turd? Didn't Matt make that comment?
Matt did you think it was cute when I pitted out? Or when I spilled? I know at least I did a lot of spilling?

RB said...

Anonymous is apparently expanding onto new turf. And possibly becoming disoriented and confused.

Anonymous said...

Yes, Matt made the comment, not Turd.

i don't ever seem to recall any pitting out, probably because it was glossed over with a glamor shot haze of love and affection. the spilling, i do remember but it was always more fun to watch the dog scramble madly to clean up the mess than to worry about 'spilled milk.'

RB said...

Awwww... loving moments shared on RBlog! I'm getting all misty over here.

Anonymous said...

this hallmark moment brought to you by adam morrison.