Ah, to be dating again... isn't it absolutely splendid? The rain (for now) and the floods (for now) are gone, it is staying light out later, and LOVE is in the air.
And the coolest thing is, I ACTUALLY was excited about going on a date with this guy who I went out with last Saturday night. I've been in situations before where I have met a top-notch fellow, without the attraction, but some sort of connection was there - and I went out with him "just to see..." And see I did; I saw that the guy was a decent first impression and a very lousy second one. And third. And even, if I held on that long to the "top-notch fellow without the attraction" idea, the fourth. Let's just say that I didn't let one poor impression ruin a possible good thing. I waited for a couple of them (er, as I hope he would?). That's good, right?
So! As I was saying, spring is in the air and the opportunity for LOVE looks good - how can it not? Except, of course, when Gertie unconsciously (yet apparently consciously) sabotages a perfectly good date.
Recipe: take a nice gentleman (yes! in this day and age AND in San Francisco I was surprised to find one too!) who majored in the same subject as you at University (but give him multiple bonus points for still being interested in said subject), and add other ingredients such as: generally sociable, tall enough to be taller than you, a nice smile and shining eyes; and you have a great date.
Recipe for disaster: take the ingredients above and throw it at least two, if not more, comments which you personally find highly ironic or comical, yet somehow they come off as insensitive, man-ego injuiries. Whoops. That's not what I meant!
Result: Nice gentleman is nice enough to finish the date, man enough to try to take any sexual advantage he can before he leaves, but not stupid enough to call you again.
Damn. I tell you. I am 33 and STILL learning. This coming off of a year-plus long relationship! Note to self: don't drink more sake than he does (especially when he is the one offering) and keep your mouth shut, even when in deep conversation about the situation on
Okay; it didn't quite go down like that. We talked about
PS - he wasn' t really wearing pleated pants. Please! They were really hot jeans. Regardless, I probably made some "ass-a-nine" comment for the complete idiot package. Ha ha.