Men like you are the reason I left Finland.*

I am going to try and revamp my blog here and there as I have time.  For starters - I decided to add an "About Me" page.  Because...people want to know about me.

...Anyway. 

I had a date last night.  There's back story here and I don't know if the back story helps or makes you judge me.  I guess I'll start off with this - he is officially the lowest I have gone.  There is an age difference of...eight years (oh stop it! I can feel your judgement!)  Ugh - no back story for you, you hater. 

So he got my number a few weeks ago and Tuesday night he randomly started to text me.  At first I thought the conversation was a bit odd, I mean, I'm old, he's young, and I kept thinking, "is this what a generational gap feels like?" but then it picked up and I got to see more of his humor.  I was laughing a lot throughout our textation and then he told me that he thought I was cool and he would like to hang out with me and I said in that case (him thinking I was cool) I'd be okay with that.  Then I guess he thought I was joking because he came back with he was going to be honest, he wanted to before he left for school (in two or three weeks) so I said that would be fine.  We made plans for the next evening (last night) and then talked a bit more and I went to bed. 

We had decided to meet at the restaurant for dinner and so we didn't talk again until he called because he couldn't find the place.  I was nervous - I'm not sure exactly what about (he is as low risk as they come) part of it was a fear of not remembering what he looked like - honest - how embarrassing would that be?

He got there and he came up and gave me a hug (which I learned this week is how you should start every date - it breaks the ice in a way).  The first thing that he told me was that he just realized he forgot his wallet...so he wanted to know what we should do.  I honestly have never had that happen - but I have a friend who it happens to all the time so I wasn't sure what we should do.  So I did what any self respecting girl would do - I told him we were still going to eat and then I kept giving him a hard time about it for the rest of the night.  I also told him it was pretty smooth because he kept saying he would get everything next time - so it was a way to get a second date out of obligation and pay back.

There was nothing fancy to the date - we ate dinner and then walked around Barne's and Noble, throwing out book titles randomly into our conversation as we saw them.  B&N closed and then we just drove around and talked.  I can't remember the last time I laughed so much!  He was definitely a good sport about my teasing - cause trust me - I teased. 

At the end he asked if he could have a pity hug (because the night before I may or may not have set up a scenario where he was slow and could get pity dates and he wondered if he could get pity hugs and kisses too).  I gave him a limp fish hug (think the hand shake but with your arms) and then I laughed and tried to give him a real hug but he wouldn't hug back so I told him I felt like I just threw myself at him.  We tried again for a real hug and then as he was walking to his car he said maybe one day he could get a pity kiss and I laughed again and told him maybe if he bought me dinner (last jab at not bringing his wallet).

It was fun and stress-less and it's how I want all my dates to be - the best part is - I think I can have that.  If I do my part, maybe it will put them at ease, and maybe dating will actually be fun.  I don't know - I think it's worth a shot.

Hello, is it me you're looking for?*

I was talking to my friend last week about making a CD of "stalking" songs.  (I have a few possible titles, "Look Who's Stalking" or "Here's Stalking You, Kid".  I told my friend that the songs are love songs and he seemed surprised by that, to which I replied, "There's a fine line between wooing and stalking" and I truly believe this.

In the movie 27 Dresses, gorgeous former cycloptic hero* James Marsden is intrigued by Catherine Heigel's character.  He shares a cab with her and she leaves behind her uber stuffed planner of wedding after wedding to be a bridesmaid or maid of honor.  He decides to use this planner to hunt her down, under the pretense of getting an idea for a story, but really, he's stalking her.  Because it is the overly attractive Marsden not many people bat an eye at this behavior.  But had it been, say, the guy at church who is obsessed with Dungeons and Dragons and who you neither find attractive or particularly easy to talk to, we would have all noticed that this behavior is socially unacceptable.  So what makes the difference? What pushes you to one side or the other?

It's the interest that the stalkee has in the stalker.  When a girl likes a guy she doesn't mind him texting all the time, asking to hang out, or showing up where she happens to be.  When this girl is not interested, this behavior goes from sweet and dreamy to super creepy.

An example, I am currently out of town (how exciting! Pictures and blog posts to come soon).  There are two boys who I would love to make an example of right now.

Boy A - writes me on Facebook and tells me not to miss "us" (Richmonders) too much, to which I reply, "I'll try not to."  I ask him what he is doing this weekend and he says, "might go to the beach, might go crazy, might miss you?" and then mentions how I didn't even leave him a survival guide.

Boy B - Sends me three texts and I don't reply.  He catches me when I am on Facebook and asks how my plane flight was.  I say it was good.  He asks what state I'm in, I say Vermont.  He says, "I miss you already" and I don't respond.

You can probably tell by the interactions on my side who I am interested in and who I am not.  If you can't, there would be some interest in Boy A.  Granted, he's never asked to meet my parents and hasn't texted me everyday since he met me (and Boy B asked has done both) maybe I would see him as a stalker if he did that.  Also, I've only hung out with Boy B once in a group setting and he seems to have developed an attachment from that and Boy A I actually have hung out with a few times and would say he's becoming a friend.

For my final example: notice in the following video how creepy the man's behavior is - at the time you are worried for the girl...as time goes on you realize that the girl may be interested and then everything is oh so sweet...or rather, still uber creepy, but you get the point.  And if you don't, at least you enjoyed the video, right? Right?

You wanna throw up here, or you wanna throw up in the car?*

Ryan and I got the opportunity to go to a VCU Rams game in January (you may know the Rams...they made it to the final four last year...) Anyway - my work has tickets for the season and so I finally took a set of them for me (I'm totally allowed to by the way).


We drove around Richmond looking for a place to park and finally decided on the Kroger near the Seagal Center. The moment we parked I started to worry that my car would get towed. Deigo is young in car years and he shouldn't have to experience that at his age. Before crossing the street I saw a sign about violators being towed and worried even more. We find our seats (right up front to the side a little...right next to the Pep Band) and sit down. I kept thinking about my car, how long would have before they came and towed it away. How will I react when we go to the parking lot and my car is gone. How will I identify my car if I don't know the license plate number? Etc.


Ryan and I were going to go move the car at halftime but as we approached the doors we saw a sign that said, "no reentry" well...then it came down to watch basketball or save my car. I'm ashamed to say I decided to stay and watch basketball, no one tell Diego that it came to that...it's better if he never knows. Even though I made the decision I still worried about it, but tried not to worry as much.

I didn't take a lot of pictures because I was scared to death to do so. There was some legal jargon on the back of the ticket that said I could get kicked out for that kind of stuff. I wish I hadn't read it, cause then I could have just taken some pictures without aniexty and then been kicked out...but what if they took my camera!?

So I took a some pics with my phone - they suck so I apologize in advance.



I watched the game and Ryan watched the Pep Band. They were very peppy too. You can't tell in this photo, but there are at least 3 of them looking right at me, they knew I was taking a photo. They did an excellent job and to be honest, I don't know why the cheerleaders bother coming, the Pep Band is what really kept the energy up.

The game was really good, it was close and first but by the end VCU had taken the lead and kept putting points between them and Holstra. There was one awesome thing (I think it's awesome but I love coming away from a game with injuries) Holstra had the ball and threw it down the court to one of their guards, the guy was running for it but a VCU guy started going for it too. They both jumped in the air at the same time to get the ball and smacked right in to each other. The force spun them a little and they both landed on the ground. It was awesome.

I also ran into my friend, Whitney. She had apparently been one row over and up from us and I was watching the game and got the feeling I should look over and there she was, waving at me! It was really cool. I think next year I'll try to get tickets again.


P.S. Diego was NOT towed. As soon as I got in the car I felt so relieved and turned to Ryan and said, "That was really fun."

A girl will never forget the first boy she ever likes.*

Happy Valentine's Day.

To be honest, I forgot about it until I went to lunch today. I left the office and witnessed several couples with roses meeting up for lunch.

California was great! Many thanks to all of you who sympathized with me about the lose of my cupcake. It was indeed tragic. Saturday I copied those cupcakes as best I could so that I could eat one, but it just wasn't the same. I did switch the sprinkles while in the store, I waited until no one was on the aisle and I took off the top with the sprinkles to the chocolate icing and made the swap. I felt like I was breaking the law, it wasn't like I was stealing sprinkles, just switching them out.

I'm a criminal...Nick turned me into a criminal.

Friday night, back in Virginia, we had our Regional Activity, "Breaking the Ice". It was marvelous. I was worried at first because I was a little late and when I got there not much was happening besides a lot of eating.

But then we got started. The boys and girls separated and we played a modified version of Battle of the Sexes. The guys won...it's okay, the girls would have if we hadn't done it Jeopardy style at the end and had them wager.

Then everyone lined up and we did speed dating. I was glad that there weren't enough guys and I got to sit out. I don't mind sitting and shooting the breeze with most of the guys, but sometimes it just gets uncomfortable, and when I get uncomfortable I start telling my life story. I don't want people to know all that information about me. So rather, Drew and I read through the questions and got to know each other better.

Then it was off to the ice rink to play broom ball. On the way there I got engaged to Jesse's roommate, Matt. I don't remember how it all started, I know that Amber threw me in to their banter and then I was engaged. Matt read through the questions from the speed dating but added, "when we are married" to the end of almost all of them. We are going to have 10 children and live in Maine. Oh, and we will be getting married the first weekend of March. If he wants 10 children we have to start now, I'm not getting any younger. I can't remember what other plans we have. When we got to the ice rink I cheered for him like he was my fiance, I think he enjoyed that part. Just in case you didn't realize it, I'm not actually engaged to him, but we are now friends.

At the rink I was just going to watch and take pictures. Which I did for a while. But then my friend, Kelli, talked me in to getting out there on the ice. I wouldn't have done it if I was going to be forced to wear ice skates, but since everyone had shoes on I went in. I don't know if I was freezing or nervous, but I was shaking pretty badly at first. We're going to say I was cold...seems to save more face. I was timid at first, shuffling along like an old woman.

Main Goal: Don't fall down.

Then I started to get in to it. I blocked a few passes and from there I wanted nothing more than to swing my...thing, I don't know what that thing would be called, it wasn't a hockey stick or a broom. Not even a combination of the two. We'll call it a stick. That reminds me, I used to have a hockey stick! I got one in high school because we used to play hockey in the parking lot near my friend's house, then I used it in college when we played floor hockey. I lost it the night I broke my foot during a game. I suppose pain will do that to you, make you forget the things you love. So my hockey stick probably turned into "Property of BYU-Idaho". Bummer. Anyway. It was great fun, I really got in to it and near the end I finally stopped shuffling and figured that if I fall, I fall.

In my book, it was the best Regional activity I have ever been to.

You want to know how I do it? I don't save anything for the swim back.*

I love basketball and frisbee because I don't think about anything else. I think about the sport and the rest of the world disappears (most times, but if I think about anything else I suck). I focus on the ball/frisbee, on stealing, blocking and winning.

I love running because I think about everything. It's like my mind just explodes into a million little pieces and I focus on everything and nothing all at once.

Saturday was a 4 mile day. Even when I was on long distance team on track I was running 2 maybe 3 miles at a time. I have run 10ks before so 4 miles really isn't anything, but I run better with 10ks because there is a crowd cheering on the 10-year-old running next to you. Sure, that 10-year-old is accomplishing something greater than you are by the sheer fact that they are nose to nose with you - a full grown adult...but that doesn't matter, if you close your eyes those cheers are for you.

Point being...Saturday I was solo. No crowds, no runners to compete keep up with...just my iPod, beautiful fall foliage, and my aching body. 4 miles - why is that thought so scary? Oh yeah, cause it's 4 miles! I started out the run too fast, like I do everyday and then I slowed down a bit. I kept telling myself that I really only had to run 2 miles. 2 miles out and then once I was there I would have no choice but to run 2 miles home...cause who gives up halfway? Well - a lot of people actually...but whatever.


Another mind trick I played on myself was to say, "You're really only adding half a mile..." Babies can run half of mile. For those who haven't caught on, I run half a mile further, which means I have half a mile more to run on the way back...so in the end, I've added a mile. I have to say, it worked. I ran the whole time, so now I feel no excuse for not running the entire 8k on November 13th. I just kept talking to myself while I was running.


Just two miles, you're almost there.


Half a mile more and you can turn around and go home.


You have less than a mile to the house.

The best part of running 4 miles Saturday? Monday's run of 3-miles felt like nothing, and I know that this afternoon's 4-mile run has been done before, I can do it again.


Sometimes I feel like my life is like a 4 mile day. I wake up in the morning and think, "How am I ever going to do that?" It's hard and it hurts...but from time to time I am just running, thinking, not feeling the aches and pains. I have to give myself pep talks about how I can make it through this day, if I can make it through this day then tomorrow will be easier. In the end I know I'm going to be stronger if I can just make it through what today has to offer me.

Sometimes we trip and we fall, our hands and knees get skinned and we just want to sit still and cry. But we have to get up, dust ourselves off and tell ourselves, "If I can make it through this, I can make it through anything."

I hope that everyone is having a good day and if you aren't, I hope you know it's just a tiny moment in your life, it will pass soon.

No Mercedes this year, we have to set an example. Set this!*

I have zero desire to work. I am the only one in my department this morning and I think I have an ulcer...or a stomach bug...or something that makes me feel sick to my stomach when I eat or drink.

The weekends go by too quickly. I have decided that the new work week should be 30 hours, leaving Friday wide open to be a real part of the weekend rather than just the gateway into the weekend. I didn't have enough time this weekend. I got plenty done, but I could have gotten more if I only had more time...say 8.5 hours extra on Friday...just saying. I could have slept more, seen my family more, taken more time to think ...actually I think too much, I think all the time and I think it's to my own detriment.

So the weekend in recap:

Friday night I had a date, yes, a date. Close your mouth it's not that shocking. We decided to wing it, and winging it meant that we went downtown and ate at The Tobacco Company...which by the way, I've never been to. It's one of those really nice restaurants that serves overpriced food with strangely sweet reductions blocking out the naturally good taste of the meat beneath. I felt incredibly uncomfortable the whole time. At least I had a nice sweater on, despite the jeans.

Then we left and entered into the magical world of Inlight (http://www.1708gallery.org/inlight/). I appreciate art...I didn't really appreciate this. I did like a few of the displays, but most of them I felt as though we as a people were being swindled. It was like the "artists" were doing a half-asked job and thought, "Well, the open minded people will appreciate this as more than it is, while the closed minded will be ridiculed for being closed minded and not seeing the deeper meaning." ...or not, maybe they ran out of time, maybe in their drug induced state this was art to them. But I'm sorry, projecting a moving beam of light across the pavement is not art, if anything, the drunk people from the local clubs used it as a game. Who can run across the moving beam of light and stay within the lines? They had a really good time and I even wanted to cheer for them. Especially when they decided to run across in mass, 10-12 drunk people trying to run in a straight line...hilarious. Art-sports...exciting. Like I said though, there were a few displays that I liked, but considering how many there were...it just wasn't enough to win my admiration.

So we left and went to my house to make milkshakes...which we didn't eat cause they were too runny or something...I can't remember. Wow - in retrospect this date seems like a bust, but it wasn't, we plan to go out again soon. Hopefully a little more low key next time - like me.

Saturday was the pancake breakfast. Every so often my friend, Jim, and I throw a pancake breakfast. We've only had about 3 of them, but we really like having our friends over and cooking them breakfast. Things got a little crazy and there are pictures to come, but let's just say a peep, M&Ms, pancake, eggs, and lighter fluid were involved. We were going to go to the mountains after that, but I think the smell of bacon had made most of us sick...and tired. So I rearranged my room, which took a long time. I think I like it though, the way it is now. I went over to a friend's house Saturday night and played games and then came home and went to bed.

Sunday was full too. I went to church, then had a meeting, then I went to my parents' house and didn't get to spend enough time with my family. Then I was off to another meeting, except that I thought the meeting was at 7:30 and it turns out that it was at 7:00...my bad. They didn't need me anyway, I just felt bad coming in late. The bishop was sitting a few rows down from me and during one part I look over and he made a face, it made me laugh. His Sunday was no doubt busier than mine and I doubt he had been home yet. Poor guy.

I came home and tried to watch The Incredibles cause I was feeling the need for a little cartoonic comedy only to discover that the copy I own is busted. It just loops on the previews - I hate DVDs all of a sudden. So I settled for Meet the Robinsons. I got in my PJs and warmed up under the covers...and passed out. Yup, by 9:45 I was dead to the world.

Welp, that's my weekend, not in a nutshell cause I took way too long to write it, but I may have written extra just because I don't want to work. Any of you do anything fun this weekend? Or not fun...I'll listen to any weekend story.

Will I wait for you?*

Warning - we're going to get personal, and I don't really do that - so I'm a bit apprehensive to say the least. I'm not one to share my feelings a lot and you may (or may not) have noticed my weak attempts to be better about this...so, here we go. P.S. - also sorry, but the title is from a lesser known little film/musical that never hit the big screen.

Last night, instead of playing Frisbee (because there was a monsoon outside) I met up with a few of the Frisbee people and we played games. It was pretty fun. After the games were over we started to talk. Somehow the topic got to missions, for anyone who isn't familiar with Latter Day Saints (i.e. Mormons) most young men go on a two year mission for the church. They could be sent to Atlanta Georgia, Canada, Brazil, France, Germany, or in the case of my story, a little island La Reunion, just east of Madagascar. They pretty much give up everything. They put school (college - not high school, just in case you weren't sure) on hold for those two years, they leave their family, their possessions, their girlfriends all behind. They cannot call, except to their families are certain holidays (Christmas, Mother's day, etc.), they get one day a week where they can write (call P-day or preparation day). Most of their time is dedicated to doing missionary work, tracting door to door, teaching investigators about the church, working with new members - and even some of the lifelong members, studying the scriptures, etc. I think you get the idea. It's a busy, jammed packed two years. Many (I have no statistics on this) missionaries have girls "waiting" for them. (Oh and there are sister missionaries too, they serve for 18 months, and some of them have beaus awaiting their return). There, there is your background.

Well, we had an interesting mix last night, we had one guy who just returned home from his mission about three months ago, we had a guy getting ready to turn in his mission papers, his girlfriend who is looking to serve a mission too, and then me - a waiter. The newly returned guy started to tell us about his experience with a long term girlfriend who said she would wait...but didn't. I understand that he would be upset about this - but I also couldn't deny that I know what it feels like on the other end of things. Waiting is no easy thing...waiting for two years is even harder. When the boys happened to find some common ground by saying that girls were of the devil or something like that, I spoke up.

None of them know I have a missionary (cause like I said, I don't really get personal) but I spoke up for most girls who wait. There are exceptions to every rule, there are the girls who have three missionaries at once and get married in 6-months time, breaking all their hearts in the process; but there are those girls who wait, or try their hardest to wait, through all of it. I told them that in the girls defense they are waiting for two years. The guy goes on his mission and his life is filled with all these new things, a new life, new responsibility, sometimes a new language, they are immersed into this new life, and while they will suffer from homesickness, it is not the same as waiting for someone to return. The girl is still living life the same way she was before, but now she doesn't have her boyfriend. She is trying to go through the same life as though her boyfriend were still there, but he's not. His letters go from weekly to every few weeks, to sometimes months. Letters get lost or held up, or returned. People feel the need to share their stories of them and their missionary, or them and their girl waiting, that didn't turn out. Why in the world they would tell someone who is in the process of waiting (or being waited for) is beyond me. It's like telling stories about miscarriages to a pregnant women. Just let her be happy, leave the sad stories that may never happen to her out of it.

Lauren, the other girl last night, mentioned that some girls get scared and that's why they don't wait. I think it's the loneliness more than anything, it's the need to have someone there who can validate them as a person of worth (not that I blame the missionaries in any way, they are doing exactly what they should be doing), it's the need to have someone to listen to you, to laugh with you, to see you. It is in our nature to fight loneliness, to try to find someone who makes you happy just for being in your life.

I haven't been the best at waiting. I have told Bryan off in a letter or two (not a dear john letter), I have dated other people (even though he told me to I still feel bad about it), I have been frustrated with him for not writing more often, I have thought about dear johning him, about giving up because it was just too hard. And this was just the first 15 months. I still have 9 more to go.

I spent everyday with Bryan from the time we started dating until the day before he left on his mission. We weren't always together in person, but we talked online for hours when we were far apart. From Thursday nights when he had a night class, to when I was in Utah for my sister's wedding, or when he was in Roanoke after school finished for the year. When he first went out there I got an e-mail and a letter each week (no phone calls, no IMing). Now I consider myself lucky to get a letter once a month. I am constantly torn between wanting him to write me every week and wanting him to focus on his mission. On top of that, I am still here in Richmond. Still meeting new people all the time, still going on dates, still fighting loneliness. Waiting is probably one of the biggest gambles of my life. He could come home and find he doesn't want to be with me, or I with him - it's a scary thought to think that two years of waiting could end up amounting to nothing.

Of course, I didn't say all of this last night, I got cut off by someone's remark. Maybe that's why I feel the need to say it now, to say it publicly. I think people should know that waiting two years seems pretty easy when you say it, but when you are living it that's a great expectation to put on someone. I'm not saying one side has it harder than the other, I just wanted people to understand my side.

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.

This weekend...this weekend...hmm...let's see.

Saturday morning I slept in until close to 9 o'clock...that means I clocked in close to 9 hours of sleep! What the Amazing? It was great. I finally got up, cooked up some breakfast and then laid in bed, cause I could. I finally got up for real and took a shower and got ready for the day. I had a date at 1 o'clock and I was meeting him downtown at the Edgar Allen Poe Museum. I had been there before but I tried to play it off like I hadn't. My pride got the best of me because we couldn't go upstairs in one of the buildings because there was going to be a wedding there and the room was reserved for the wedding party. My date wondered aloud what was up there and I said, "I know!" So...then I had to say, 'yeah, I've been here before'. It's the room where the voice over reads "The Raven", and on the other side of the teeny, tiny hallway is the boyhood room (replica) of Edgar Allen Poe...where it is said that a ghost resides. I was actually grateful to be looking at the lower level without hearing that super creepy voice coming from upstairs, and the boyhood room...creeps me out a little too, so all was well with me. I did learn something new, you see, there are so many things written in the museum that if I had a little more patience I would have read it all by now, but instead, being impatient, I get to learn something new each time I go.

Edgar Allen Poe was actually a little bit of an athlete! Who would have guessed, he doesn't strike me as an athlete- I guess because he writes or something, I don't know, it's possible.

Anyway, he swam six miles in the James River, which, according to the little plaque, has never been repeated. That's impressive.

That took a total of 30 minutes, so as we were leaving the museum we decided maybe we would get ice-cream (I had already eaten lunch). Neither of us really knew what was around, I knew of the River City Diner, and that was it, so we started to walk towards the Canal Walk because I remember seeing some shops down there last time I went. We stopped though because we saw the Holocaust Museum (I have been there before too, and admitted it this time). I guess this was kind of a macabre date.

I'm all for learning about history, but the Richmond Holocaust Museum has to be one of the scariest places that I have ever been...yet I keep going back. I think because it's free, therefore the people I am with always want to go. I jumped a few times and acted like a real pansy a few others. No matter how many times I am there that place will do it to me. It's eerie and I don't expect sunshine and butterflies, but I also don't like feeling like I'm in some scary movie. I did finally go through the tunnel. See, there is a tunnel in one of the rooms to demonstrate what it was like for one Jewish family that lived several weeks underground. I cheated and used my cell phone to light the way. Once to the main part of the tunnel there is a display set up with red light and a about a dozen plastic mannequins and a German audio recording ready to go once you get to a certain point...that point happened to be as I first noticed the dozen or so plastics looking at me. I don't think I screamed, but I can't say for certain that I didn't.

I am hesitant to say that it was fun, rather, it is always a sobering experience. Especially as you get to the liberation section and you read the stories of those who survived and those who found the survivors. I held my ground though, and didn't cry, but I mentally made it a point to finally finish reading Izzy's Fire, a book I bought at the gift shop there about...5 years ago. (P.S. I have been crying while I read that book...in the privacy of my own home of course). World War II just seemed to display the worst in people. The Americans were dropping A-bombs, the Germans were committing genocide, the Japanese were doing death marches and who knows what else because to be quite honest I don't know all that much. I know about the big things that they teach you in school and they make movies about. You look at all that was wrong and then you read about the soldiers coming in and pretty much saving those people and you think of all the soldiers that died just to get the armies there and how some of those prisoners were barely hanging on, to their lives, to their faith. Many of them having already lost all that they had. I read about soldiers, nurses, resistance fighters, one woman who left her daughter at a Catholic convent while she helped with the underground, helping Jewish families escape Nazi controlled countries. The best and the worst displayed in relatively a few short years. I wonder how our history will sum us up.

I didn't mean to get deep there, I was planning to go on and on about how when I got home I slept the rest of the day and go into a silly diatribe about how I must have contracted African Sleeping Sickness. African Sleeping Sickness (I was going to reduce that to just letters but thought better of it, and quickly) Diatribe averted. Rather, I would like to thank anyone who has ever devoted their time to serving our country, who knows how many lives they have affected with their service whether directly or indirectly. Thanks for all that you do!

I know you can be overwhelmed and you can be underwhelmed, but can you ever just be whelmed?*

It's that time again, for one of my weird little theories. This one is called...

The Fish and the Amoeba (as pertaining to boys)

This theory is not to be confused with the Steak Fry Hierarchy of 2007 (If needed I can revisit this as I don't believe I ever blogged about it) in fact, they have no correlation what-so-ever.

Imagine with me if you will that you are swimming in a sea of fishes.

Creepy and yet freaking adorable.

There many different types of fishes, big ones, little ones, colorful or dull. Plenty of fishes for you to choose from (are you following what I am really getting at?). Each fish, when it first comes into the pond has immeasurable potential. They are all so clean and lovely. However, each fish runs the risk of running into an amoeba. These tiny, microscopic creatures can latch on to a fish, a wonderful, beautiful fish and slowly begin to change it's very composition until it somehow shakes off the amoeba or worse...becomes an amoeba infested fish.

Let's talk about this. I am going to assume that this situation can be considered global, but it may be confined to the Chippenham Ward in Richmond, VA.

A new guy moves in. He's cute, average height, seemed pretty mature and intelligent when you spoke to him in the hallway. The prospect of there being a guy in the world who has a full time job, can speak intelligently, doesn't spend most of his free time drinking Mountain Dew and playing video games in his underwear causes butterflies to burst in your stomach. It will be refreshing to hang out with someone whose maturity level is above that of a thirteen year old's.

Even if nothing romantic happens with this guy, say you end up just being friends, it is still refreshing, still nice to be around a guy who seems to have his priorities straight. There's one problem though. You both swim in the same sea with all the other fishes. Other fishes that are covered in amoebas! (Please read the next part faster and more panicked, it's fun that way) Your new, shiny fish suddenly comes in contact with that fish that's been in your sea for over two years! The one who would rather watch a sporting event then go on a date! As you watch in horror, amoebas are jumping from one fish to another. You want to stop it, but nothing seems to work! You remind them that you are floating there, that you are a lady fish, but they laugh and keep talking and before long you see your shiny fish covered in amoebas of all shapes and sizes!!

When one fish swims to close to another he gets this funk of him. No one's fault, it just happens. But the two fish are somehow connected and they begin to act the same way whenever they are around each other. The amoebas bring out the worst in the fish. Savvy?

Actually, I have no idea if that makes any sense.

Come here, sausage. I take you with ketchup!*

It's Saturday night and you're on a date. Your list of supplies include:

• A gallon of vanilla ice cream
• Chocolate Sprinkles
• Assorted cookies
• Gummy snacks
• Knives, spoons, tweezers, forks, etc.

You stand before your pallet

And contemplate it's fate.



The answer seems so clear to your mind. It's a gallon of very cold ice-cream, and you just so happen to have an obsession with those adorable, flightless, Sphenisciformes...penguins, people. Ice cream = cold, penguins = gluttons for coldness, and ice-cream penguin = genius.

In case you haven't gathered, Saturday night I went on a date with Aaron, and after dinner our activity was ice-cream sculpting. Pretty much my main contribution (as I lack any artistic talent) was deciding what we should make and I chose penguin (are you really surprised?). So we Googled up some penguins and this guy became our inspiration, our student model if you will.

I have named him Frank.

After that we got to work cutting out the body and using the remains to make the head. Aaron used an exact-o knife to cut out the feet from cookies.

And before long we had a Frank-clone (named: Clone-Frank) right before out eyes!

This is before arms/wings and before we attempted to use chocolate sprinkles on the head and chin strap. My favorite part is the melted ice-cream on the board, looks like Clone-Frank was malting.

Even after sticking Clone-Frank back into the freezer a few times we couldn't slow down the melting ice-cream and its honey-like viscosity, as Clone-Frank's face was ravaged and deformed. The chocolate sprinkles didn't stand a chance, the gummy snack eyes were next. The nose however, stood it's ground...or should I say its face? Aaron and I contemplated sticking him back in the freezer, but then thought better. Clone-Frank had met his life expectancy and we were now to eat.

Aaron thought it would be best to just go in with a knife.

Amazingly thought, Clone-Frank's throat bubbled slightly and sealed off the incision. I think we underestimated the regenerative powers of ice-cream...and Clone-Frank's for that matter. Sensing that this was possibly like Highlander, Aaron cut Clone-Frank's head off (seeing as how this is a family-friendly blog I will not post the horrendous pictures).

For those of you wondering how I handled the chocolate conundrum, fear not. Clone-Frank's backside was nothing but pure vanilla goodness.

Photo taken before Clone-Frank's demise

Ice-Cream Penguin, it can be done, it should be done.

She was given to fits of semi-precious metaphors*

I am on a quest to help a friend, and on that quest I have come to the realization that I secretly want to be the female Greg Behrendt (the author of the book He's Just Not That Into You). I have ample experience in rejection and unrequited love. I have a Bachelor's degree in being the Man's Lady, in other words, I am the girl that the guys love to be friends with and like to vent their women frustrations to. For over a decade I have been working on my Ph.D in the Intricacies of the Male Brain - I have had the opportunity to learn from many naturally gifted individuals just how the male brain works. I am not completely there, so take that in to consideration whenever I start spouting off ideas. I am a work in progress and so are the ideas coming out of my head.

That being said, I am currently working on a __ Step Program (Not sure how many steps yet so I left it blank) to help girls.

Sometimes being single is a pain in the butt because every topic seems to go back to dating. People talk about it like it's a disease to be cured. We spend the first quarter of our lives single, it's not because we are infected with some virus, it's just the way things are, it's a part of life. No one talks about adolescence like it's something to be fixed...well, maybe. But childhood certainly, no one asks, "What can we do differently so that children are growing up and leaving childhood faster?" It's just a stage of life that we grow through until one day, we find someone, we get married, and we are single no more.

Tuesday night at Institute we were talking about one topic, and it seemed to me that no matter what question was asked it came back to dating. I suppose being a large group of single people together this was to be expected, and in some situations I agree that we should try to apply it to our lives. However, this night the topic didn't seem like it could even go to dating, but somehow it did.

At one point in the class they were talking about how men and women react differently to different situations. Isaac was going on about how men use logic and women use emotion. Then in almost the same breath he talks about how emotions are illogical, which fits if his statement of logic vs emotion is men vs. women. If men are logical women must be illogical. Women use emotions, women are illogical therefore emotions are illogical. I may have only been half paying attention in class...therefore I may have a few details wrong, but I think you get the gist.

If this is true then we need help. If men see women as a source of some illogical, emotional hurricane then something must be done. I personally don't think that anyone would consider me to be illogical, at least I hope not. I know that at one point in my life they would have, but not recently. So I know that it is quite possible that a lot of girls are that way because I was once that way. (Don't get me wrong, I don't actually believe that guys are all that logical either...but I'm here to work on the girls).



The other night I was talking to a friend and she said that I was the kind of girl guys liked to hang out with. I'm laid back and something else...obviously I'm the kind of girl with a half-a memory as well. When she said this I wanted to help her out. I feel/hope that all girls can someday be the kind of girl that guys like to hang out with. When this is truly reached what we have is a girl comfortable with herself in any situation, even surrounded by a pool of potential eternal companions. When she is comfortable enough to kick it with the boys and be herself is when people begin to see how fantastic she is. This isn't a guarantee that she'll be beating off guys with a stick, but hopefully, there will be one guy who sits up and takes notice, and all you really need is one guy.

However, the most important thing is to do this for you, for your self-confidence, for your happiness. Don't follow these steps with the sole purpose of getting a guy. It will certainly back fire. This isn't a way to get a guy, this is a way to be yourself in any situation. In order to do that you must begin with step 1.

Step 1: The first and foremost thing you have to do is not to become emotionally invested right away. You're at the store, you're checking out the groceries before settling on just one. Imagine the heartache if you walked up to the first product you saw and said, "this is perfect I love it." You go and buy it, you put it in the car and think of all the wonderful possibles as you drive home. You bring it into the house and continue to admire it, wondering when the best time to open it will be. The more you admire the more anxious you become. You are emotionally vested in this one product, let's say, a box of cereal. You are so certain that this cereal is the one for you. Finally, you can't take it any longer. You grab the box and open it up, but in your haste the bag has ripped open and the cereal is all over the floor, ruined. You cry for days, no other box of cereal will do, you loved that last box and now it's all spoiled. You become plagued with "what-ifs" and wondering how you could have approached that situation differently.

Does this make sense? I use metaphors a lot because I have an easier way of expressing my words in metaphors, so I apologize if they don't make any sense to anyone but me.

Pretty much, you put everything you had into one thing, one person and you didn't even know enough about them, you certainly didn't know if they were interested in you in return. I'm not saying that you need to give up on finding love, I'm saying you need to tone it down a bit. Nothing scares away love more than the desperate desire to find it. It's like light to cockroaches...to some cockroaches - not those creepy ones that don't care so they'll keep coming at you anyway...but that's a different metaphor and a different breed of guy.

When you are focused on one thing then you may overlook something better. It may not seem better right away, but you have to remember, guys are just like girls in the respect that they are looking for someone too. They can make the same mistakes that we make. If you aren't dating a guy, haven't even gone on one date, don't you dare put everything you have into it. Because if it falls through, if he decides to go for someone else, it will hurt like a break-up when you weren't even dating.

If this is making sense then I will keep going with the steps. Now, they are in an order, however, some girls are beyond some steps and need to first overcome where they are, so while they are numbered, they don't have to go in order. If this is not making sense then this was just something to help me pass the morning away and I'll stop with the steps. Let me know.

I really love Rudy. He is totally enamored of me. I mean, I've had other men love me before, but not for six months in a row.*

Just so you know we found two girls to move in, but they won't be able to until August 1st. One of the girls might move in during July, but we'll see. So Anne and I are going to try to wing it for the time being. Winging it is pretty hard when money is involved, it's much easier when you are just winging something on your own merits of character, but throwing in tangible things makes it difficult...you know what else makes it difficult? Land lady's who are sure that their way is the only possible way, even when it is clearly not. But that's a whole other blog entry which I don't have time or energy to write. My sister is getting married today, so I must go finish getting ready for that.

Happy 1 Year!

Today is the one year anniversary of my blog. They grow up so fast!

Some highlights of my blog

1. Followers: When followers came to the blog world it was the coolest thing ever! (to me at least).

2. When I wrote the blog about obsessions and Peter Pan commented!

3. My blog on The Similarities Between Dating and Baking.

4. The book montage (it's over to your right). Seriously, I love that thing, and with my resolutions you should see at least one new book pop up there a month.

5. Top Five Worst Dates.

6. Top Five Best Dates

7. When I found my Children.

8.Best Halloween Costume thus far.

9. When I started to use The Cutest Blog on the Block website for my backgrounds.

10.Seal Team cause let's face it, that was pretty darn cool.

I think I can, I think I can: Top Five Best Dates

Now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for, the positive spin on my dating experiences thus far in my life. But before we go on I must warn you that they aren’t that great, and they aren’t that funny. Most of the pleasure just derives from the fact that good dating experiences have existed in my life. In fact they are so menial I’m debating whether or not to write about them. I know I really enjoyed them, but again, a lot of them are older so I’m fuzzy on details. I just think it’s easier to see why the 5 worst dates stand out, but not so much why the 5 best do. And I may be over looking the best date I’ve ever had, but since almost all of my good dates and bad dates share in common the fact that there is usually only one date, I’ve probably forgotten.
Okay, I’m going to stop delaying and just get on with it, just remember it won’t be as interesting.

#5 Sadie Thinks she Famous

One of my last dates of my college career was the Sadie Hawkins dance where I let my roommate set me up with a guy from her work. He was tall and I believe Russian, so he had that Russian attractiveness about him. He came over before the date and we all watched a movie and then I went to pick him up that night for the date (for those who have not experienced a dance of the Sadie Hawkins persuasion it is when a girl asks a guy, so even though we were set up by my roommate we treated it as though I asked him. We went to the grocery store I worked at (Err, had worked at, I forgot my last year I didn’t work there) and we got Craigo’s pizza and ate in the deli. Then we went to the dance, got our pictures taken and danced like crazy little heathens. Afterwards we went to get some ice-cream. While there my roommate’s date (who I had also just met that day) turned to me and said, “So, what ethnicity are you?” to which my date eagerly turns to me waiting for my answer. Err….I’m white, Caucasian. But it only enhanced my ever growing awareness that maybe people don’t think that about me (starting a couple weeks before when my roommate (who never met these boys so she wasn’t in on it) asked me if I marked the Caucasian box on things and when I said ‘yes’ she asked me ‘why?”). Add that to recently producing not so white babies with several celebrities on makemebabies.com. Anyway, I can’t remember why I had such a good time, I just know that I did, and I would have loved to go out with the guy a second time, but nothing came of it, I graduated and haven’t been to Rexburg since.

#4 I try to keep awake, I try to swim beneath but I can’t stop this narcolepsy

All of my good dates happen post-high school and my second college date was with a Southern Narcoleptic. A group of my friends and I decided to have a group date (why don’t we do those anymore?) and we all invited guys we wanted to go on a date with. So this was my very first time asking a guy out! Nerve racking! I called him up, explained that we were having a group date and asked him if he’d like to be my date (Thanks to John Bytheway, “What I Wish I Knew When I was Single”, for guidelines on the proper way to ask someone out). When he said ‘yes’ I almost threw up in my mouth, how exciting. So we plan the date, we even have a married couple helping us out; because for part of the date we were separated into boys and girls (I don’t know whose idea that was). I feel like we made videos, but that might be another date I went on where I can’t remember enough of the details to even know if it was a good or bad date. I do know that we played a game similar to the Newly Wed game, this is where our married friends came in handy. They split up and the girl asked us questions that we answered, her husband asked the guys questions and then we met back up and tried to answer what our date answered for the questions. It was actually a lot of fun, though I don’t know if it would work now. My date eerily picked what I answered for most of the question (not that he said the same, but that he knew what I said). In my immaturity I thought that meant something, in retrospect it just means I was a typical 19 year old who wasn’t a very deep individual and was apparently predictable and transparent. We started to play another game, and in the mist of it my date sneezed and threw himself on the ground. I originally thought he was being dramatic, since for me, all people have the capability to be as dramatic as I am. We all laughed but then he never got back up! We realized he was asleep. Luckily some of his roommates were there and they were able to explain that this happens all the time, so just let him be. He finally woke up and we had dessert and him and I got to talk and while it was a really fun date…nothing happened afterwards.

#3 When a Stranger Calls

The next date was fun, yet awkward. One evening I got a call from an unfamiliar number on my cell phone. I went against habit and answered it. I had no clue who the person on the other line was, but this guy seemed to know me. But then he started to say that we met on the bus, and being from Richmond I kept thinking of a city bus, which Rexburg doesn’t have any, so I was very confused as to how we met and how he got my number, especially because I never handed out my cell phone number to people. Finally he started to laugh and explained who he was. He was a missionary who had served in my home ward and was now obviously home from the mission and would be coming to Rexburg that weekend and got my number from my mom and asked if I wanted to go out. I said ‘yes’ of course!

He came to pick me up that night from my apartment and we walked out to his car. He said he was even going to be a gentleman and open my door for me, which he did, and once I was inside I leaned over to open his door for him, because I had seen on a movie once where this guy was watching for it, because if the girls does it then it means she likes you. Well, it was really funny in the movie because he threw his hands up in the air and yelled ‘yes!”…the funnier part was this guy did the same thing, so I asked him if he had seen that movie, and it turns out he did, though neither of us saw the whole thing and neither of us knew what movie it was. We went to his sister’s apartment and ate pizza with his sister, brother-in-law, and his mom. Then we went out to try and find something to do. It was winter so there was ice on the ground and across from his sister’s apartment there was the skating rink. He mentioned going skating, which I shot down (though probably should have tried) because I like for my feet to have direct contact with the ground. He told me that they would, just as he slipped on a patch of ice on the ground. He then agreed that maybe we shouldn’t go ice skating. We ended up driving around for a while enjoying the city views from various locations until we were finally able to meet up with one of his friends (this is why we didn’t want to do anything that took up too much time so we could go meet them). His friend and his wife met us at Dairy Queen (wait a second, that place has already made the blog before…pretty popular place in Idaho). All three of them had served their missions in VA, and then I was the native. Rather exciting. Anyway, he drove me home at the end of the night, gave me a hug which felt weird because I was having trouble not calling him Elder, and then the next time I saw him he was engaged.

I thought I was supposed to put a positive spin on this? Sorry, it’s like my childhood, I just can’t seem to do it.

#2 I’m really missing it in so many ways I anticipate us making out

Date number 2. I had a hard time decided between 1 and 2 should be 1 and which should 2. I wanted this to be number 1 but I know that it’s just because it was more recent than the other one. Have I lost you yet? Have you closed the blog because I just won’t get on with the story?

Fine then. For this date I think I asked the guy out, and I say I think because I’m not too sure how it all happened. I was bored at work one day (How unusual, I know) so I e-mailed him and told him I was thinking about making these cookies called “Out”. He’s known about the cookies because I had told him how my FHE brother in college had given me the recipe. Since I had never made the cookies before I just had a lot of fun talking about making ‘out’, so in this e-mail to him I told him that I was going to make ‘out’ this weekend since I had never done it before and I knew he’d want to make ‘out’ sometime. In my e-mail I was just bored and telling him my plans, but he wrote back and said he was in and asked if we wanted to throw in an activity and dinner and make it a date. Uh….Ok. But that left me wonder who just asked who out. I think he wins, but whatever. Even though we made plans for that Friday I wasn’t certain we were actually going to be going out until that night when he called me to tell me he was running late. He finally came and we got in the car and headed to the park to play Frisbee golf. On the way there I think he cut off an older couple who honked their horns and glared angrily at us as they past. Neither of us had seen the couple, so we could only imagine that had intended to take that way and didn’t feel we had left them enough room. I kept joking around that the couple flipped them off. Frisbee golf was fun, though I think I’m athletically inept, and then we went to dinner. I feel pretty certain that the old, angry couple was sitting next to us at the restaurant and it had taken them so long to get there because we had cut them off and forced them to take the long way. The waitress asked us when we were done if we wanted any dessert and we said ‘no’, as she was walking away my date said, “We’re gonna go make out.” He wasn’t lying, but I was still a little embarrassed since no one who could hear would have known we were talking about cookies.

After dinner we went to my house and we made ‘out’. It was so funny though and I wonder if he’s ever made cookies before. I read on the directions to whip or beat the ingredients together and he pulled out a rubber spatula…and he looked so proud of himself. But I started to laugh because the spatula was no match for cookie dough. He had me laughing most of the time we were in the kitchen for various baking blunders. He said he would tell people that I laughed at him while we were making ‘out’. Then we were going to stop balling up the dough and I was going to put the rest away in the fridge for some other time and so I went to wash my hands and then he said we should just finish them then. So I rolled my eyes and told him that I was going to tell people that he made me stop and wash my hands in the middle of making ‘out’. (If anyone would like the recipe for “Out” just let me know.) And no Tami, no wedding bells, calm down.

#1 Slalom, baby.

First of all, I would like to thank all of the great, good, and average dates for competing for the top 5. While some of you didn’t make the list don’t be offended, you didn’t miss by much, had these five dates never happened, you would be in the second string. For those of you who are currently in my five, don’t let it go to your head, trust me on this one.
For number one I picked the one and only date where I was fully medicated. I played hockey in college, it was intramural and it was floor hockey (as stated earlier I like my feet to have direct contact with the ground). However, our last game of the season I broke my foot. I had already made tentative plans with a friend to go on a double date, but I had not called up my date yet. So after I hobbled up three flights of stairs with the assistance of some of the boys on my hockey team I lay on the couch with my foot propped up and the telephone in hand. I panicked that my foot was broken, but since I had never broken anything I didn’t know what it was supposed to feel like. After my roommates reassured me that it wasn’t broken because their incessant poking of said foot would really hurt if it was, I shooed them out of the room and called my potential date for Friday night. I was nervous because he was a good friend, I mean, I liked him as more than a friend, but he didn’t know that. We talked on the phone for a bit, and I finally spit out what was going down that weekend. I explained nothing of my foot to him, afraid that he would use it as an out if he had to. If he wanted to say ‘no’ he was going to have to do without me being injured as an excuse. He said ‘yes’ (just to release the tension, I knew you were wondering if he would or not). The next morning I still couldn’t walk on my foot, so off to the student health center it was, then after discovering that my foot was in fact broken I was sent to a “real doctor” and he set my foot, causing for the first time, actual pain related to a broken foot. I kind of hated that man after that moment. He set me up in some kind of not-a-cast, gave me some crutches, and gave me a prescription for painkillers. I ran into my future date later that afternoon and he noticed the crutches and broken foot. But we were still on for Friday.
He drove of course, and I got to ride in his cop car (no long a cop car, just used to be one). We met up with my friend, waited and waited for the third girl to show up (she did way late in the date, she must have double booked) so I got to watch as my friend went on a date with two guys.

Maybe I should warn you real quick, some people get loopy on pain medication, I however am always loopy so the opposite effect took place. Sometimes I spaced out staring at the wall, sometimes I tear up.

We played skittle poker, which I’m guessing is like actual poker but the chips are skittles instead. Then we went to Taco Bell. I don’t eat much Taco Bell, in fact I think this was my first and last time. But my date insisted on paying for me even though I had asked him. We went back to my friend’s apartment to eat and then watch the classic, Ice Age.

My friend and her date had gotten a little warm so they decided to crack the window open, my date and I were sitting under the window. We were watching the movie and one of us turned to say something to the other and we realized we could see our breath! We were given a blanket and told to such it up since everyone else was warm. At the end of the movie I pretended to cry due to all the tenderness happening in the closing scenes. But then suddenly I really was crying! So I asked for a tissue and that’s when everyone realized I was just kidding anymore. But I quickly threw out that I was on pain medication. I don’t think they really believed it, but they pretended to while I was there. How did this one turn out? We became best friends for the remainder of my college years, but other than that, nothing.

So there you have it, you’ve now read the top 5 worst and the top 5 best. I know they weren’t much but it gave me something to do for a couple of days.

Top 5 Dating Woes

I happen to have a lot of time on my hands at the moment and I’m sitting here thinking what a bummer it is that I don’t have anything interesting to write. I’m trying to think of past stories in my life that I could share with you, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. I’ll keep typing though, hoping something comes out, because like I said, I currently have a lot of time on my hands.


I have decided on something that might and I stress might be an interesting read for you. How about my top 5 worst dates and my top 5 best dates? Sound good? Okay, here we go down memory lane, so if details are foggy I’ll be making them up. All names have been coded and certain details left vague so as to protect the identity of the people on the date (or more so me should some of them happen upon this blog).

Before I begin I was to start first with a “Not a date” story. I went to visit my friend one year for spring break and she was dating this guy. Now the thing about people in relationships, they want to spread that joy and assume that everyone else would like a relationship too, no matter who it is with. So unbeknownst to me, she tried to set me up with this guy who reminded me of Hans Klopek from The Burbs. We went to eat dinner at my friend’s boyfriend’s sister’s house one night, we went to a dance, and we went to the park to have a picnic. This guy didn’t seem to have a problem with a weekend girlfriend and I think he really weirded me out when he laid his head on my legs. Awkward! Sadly though, I can’t remember anything else about this story except for those small details…maybe I can dig up an old journal and remember my true feelings. Now, on with the show.


Top 5 worst dates
(Backwards like a David Letterman Top 10 list)

#5 You Got This?
This was the first date from a list I had made of people to go on a date with after Mr. Collins. Whoa…I just realized that of my top 5 worst dates Mr. Collins didn’t make it, which means I’ve had worse. Back to the story. B1 seemed promising at first, not because I was interested (in fact, I wasn’t, which is why I asked him) but because he seemed excited to go on a date with me, and he quickly took over the planning. However, the night of the date I felt like he was trying his hardest to give this date no outlet on the dating highway except to veer it off on Exit 83 – Buddyland. We met at our date destination, which he chose because it was close to his home (a good 25-30 minute drive from mine). When we got into the building to pay for our activity I paid for him (since I asked) but it wasn’t like he put up much of a fight, I don’t know why, but I had expected him to say, “No, I can’t let you pay for me! I’m the guy, let me pay.” It wasn’t expensive or anything, it was just the principle of it. So we had our ten to twenty minute activity and I felt certain it would end after that, thinking what a flop this date was, but at least I gave it a try. Afterwards though B1 redeemed himself slightly by extending the date to ice cream at the Dairy Queen 5 minutes down the road, however we drove separately since it was closer to his home (couldn’t even drive me back down the street at the end of the date). But he did pay for the ice cream and we talked until midnight, though he kept checking his cell phone, to which I finally asked if he needed to be somewhere. The date ended in a hug and no possibility of a future.

#4 Keep On Keeping On
This date was actually one of my only, if not only (not really sure if I’ve done this before) online dating experience. I’ve been on online dating websites before, making friends and all, but never actually going on a date with anyone. But I was in Idaho, and so was he, so we ended up going on a date. He came to pick me up at my apartment and we went to dinner at the glamorous Big Judd’s restaurant, known for its pounder burger and gut wrenching fries. The drive to and from I felt as though I was going to die because this guy had no fear of his monster truck rolling over on a sharp turn. (If you’ve ever been to Big Judd’s in Idaho you know it’s a curvy road, especially scary at night). The whole drive he talked about how he would take care of me…which is sweet and creepy at the same time, because he wasn’t talking about while we were driving, his eyes were focused on the future. We then went to the two dollar theater to see Pirates of the Caribbean…I think it was the second one at the time, but it turns out that you can’t buy your tickets that far in advance, so off to Wal-Mart it was. As we looked at the cheap movies, killing time before the movie he kept pointing out the movies that he absolutely loved. If you know me you know I judge potentials harshly based on their movie choices. Not that harshly, but if every movie they love is one that I can’t stand and look down upon then how can I respect the person? Movies become a big part of dating life, it’s an area you need to be compatible. When we got into his truck he whips out a TV in the dashboard! Way cool, but totally dangerous, turn it off. So on the way to the movie I get to watch 5-10 minutes of Joe Dirt on the TV he paid big bucks to have installed. Have I mentioned I have never watched all of Joe Dirt? I can’t bring myself to do it. This date also ended in a hug and no possibility of a second date.

#3 The French are glad to die for love
In high school I made a mistake of letting a friend set me up on a date. You’re still too young at eighteen years old to let friends set you up, especially because that friend is probably just trying to get with the guy’s friend and that’s why the two of you would be a good match. This date was in fact only my third date (once you read #1 and #2 on my list which were actually my 1st and 2nd dates you’ll understand why so few). But I let my friend set me up, foolishly believing the words, “You have to meet this guy I think you’ll hit it off.” Who knew your best friend was so good with bold faced lies? So I agree to go on this double date and I get picked up at my house like a child at a bus stop. I can’t remember the beginning of the date, or if we did anything besides going to see the movie Moulin Rouge (my friend’s choice). But my date didn’t say a word to me, not one word. Am I that disappointing? Am I that hideous to behold? Or do I project a snobby image, scaring guys from speaking to me?

Everything I learned from my date came from the lips of my friend, and everything he learned about me came from the hyperactive state of having to sit still too long in a movie that didn’t capture my heart. So unfortunately all he knew about me was that I thought the beginning of the movie was written by crack heads and then I pretended to tap my arm like I was about to do drugs. Oddly enough this was apparently enough for him to ask my friend if I could go on a second date with him. The things I had learned about him; obvious red neck, football player, loves his car that wasn’t that great, may or may not already have a drinking problem at 17 years old, and a fanatic about coming across as a tough guy who can still play football with a broken foot; were not enough to entice me for a second date, but I said I would go anyway. That date did not make either of my lists, it wasn’t bad enough to compete with the worst, but it didn’t stand out enough to be remembered until just now. When he asked her for a third date I told her he would have to ask me, not have her do it. When he finally called I was preparing to move across the country, so…dangit, I couldn’t go.

#2 Chris Rock and Drew Barrymore would never be in a movie together
This date was supposed to be my second if we look at the order in which they were asked. It came after the question for the first date, from the same guy, but it was in preparation for the first date (you’ll understand when you get there). The date started off well enough, when he showed up to my house 20 minutes late…because he got lost. We went to the movie theater and I stared out the window as we passed open parking spot after open parking spot, but apparently, none were easy enough to pull into so instead we park across the parking lot, not just the theater parking lot, but the shopping center parking lot. We were over by a bank, and from the bank you couldn’t see the theater. So my legs got a work out and I was chilly on the walk back (since it was springtime). We get to the theater, buy our tickets, and go sit down. The movie we were going to see was Never Been Kissed. The theater darkens and the previews play, then the movie begins: Chris Rock standing on a stage doing a comedy routine. I lean over to my date and say, “I think we are in the wrong theater.”

Him: How do you know?
Me: Aside from the F-bomb already being dropped two times in five minutes I point the screen, “I don’t think he’s in the movie we bought tickets for.”
Him: You sure?
Me: *nods head and thinks to self, “Do you think Chris Rock is going to show up in a romantic comedy with Drew Barrymore?”*

So we get into the right theater and still have some times before the previews begin. He asked me how old I am and I tell him, 16 and I ask him how old he is and he says 19 and then he says, “Is that legal?” And I told him I thought it was fine as long as we didn’t do anything, and we wouldn’t be doing anything. The movie was good (to me at least) and then we left the theater, walking the mile back to the car and then getting lost trying to get out of the parking lot. Well, I didn’t get lost, I knew where I was at every moment, even when the street names stopped being familiar, I kept in mind where we were in case at any moment this guy would listen to me and turn around. Which he finally did. We went and got something to eat and then came back to my house. He watched SNL with my mom in the family room and I hung out with my dad in the office. There wasn’t much conversation involved in this date if you haven’t already guessed. Finally he left, but unfortunately we had already had plans for the second date…

#1 Wow that was just like Carrie, I thought she was going to kill us all.

Having already experienced the first date with this particular guy I wasn’t too thrilled for the second date. So here’s the history on the first date. I was sixteen years old, had just started working at my new job. One night after work this guy I barely know walks me to my car and says, “So my senior prom is coming up and my mom really wants me to go, do you want to go?” In my head I had prepared myself for when a guy finally asked me out, I would always give a guy a chance, I was altruistic and wanted to give every date the benefit of the doubt (that quickly changed). So I told him ‘yes’ despite the lame delivery of the question…my mom wants me to go, so would you go? Seriously? After I say ‘yes’ I ask when Prom is…should probably ask the when before committing. Turns out it was in a week and a half! Being sixteen and never having had to buy a prom dress before I didn’t understand in the moment what kind of torture I was locking myself into. But I had done it, with the help of my mom and my sister I had chosen a prom dress and sat ready on the evening of Prom, dreading the arrival of my date. I’m sure every mother beams when she finds out that her daughter hopes she was stood up for Prom. For a small window (about 15-20 minutes) I thought possibly that my dreams had come true. But alas, he showed up, we took pictures, and then off to his mom and dad’s for more pictures. His mom gave me a squeezing hug like we had just announced our engagement and then we got into the car…and…his parents got into their car. We pulled out of the driveway, and then they pulled out of the driveway. Then we followed them to the restaurant. For a moment I thought we’d be eating dinner with his parent’s before heading to the dance. But as it turns out he’s horrible with directions so his parent’s thought it was best to guide him there. During dinner I kept asking him questions about himself, and he responded with simple and lonely ‘yes’ and ‘no’s to most of the questions. Since he was a senior I asked him his plans for after graduation, his response, “I don’t know, maybe manager of the meat department.” Wow, how is someone supposed to act like that’s interesting? The ambition was almost too much for me as I picked at my food and tried to think of other questions I could ask.
When we got to the dance (not at my high school, but at the rival high school) I saw a few girls from church and some guys from work. Said ‘hello’ and then went into the gym with my date, who then introduced me to one person, and we sat down. Then we continued to sit, quietly, sitting quietly, together with his one friend he introduced me to. Finally I turn and ask his friend a question, after she answered her and her date got up to dance and my date and I continued to sit. Finally he asked if I wanted to dance, so we went on the dance floor and we stood there, preparing to dance. He laughed slightly, said he ‘couldn’t do this’ and we went back to sit down. I used my one get out of jail free card and went to the bathroom, where I ran into a few friends. Then I returned to my date and we went into the commons area where I found a girl I knew and her date who was pretty much dying from exhaustion (he worked at a bakery…early morning). So I sat talking with them and trying to include my date, though she didn’t have to baby-sit hers (mostly because he was sleeping with his eyes open). When we went to leave he said, “I know you weren’t trying to be rude.” What? By talking? By trying to salvage the evening? He then took me home because I had already previously lied and said that my dad was really strict and I had to be home by midnight. However, he welcomed himself into the house and hung out with my mom again while I begged my dad to tell him to leave so I could go get in my PJs. This date didn’t even end in a handshake; rather I stood behind the door as I told him ‘goodbye’. Several months later he walked me to my car and broke up with me…needless to say I think I took it pretty well, I mean, I was surprised, but he was right, we were both just too busy and never had time for each other. Is that another way to put that I was avoiding him? Sounds good.
What a way to start my dating career…is it any wonder why I hate dating now at 25 years old?



But now I've written too much, so I think you'll have to wait for the Top 5 good dating experiences.

Bake for 9 to 10 years (AKA "...And it’s more than just a rhyming)

I dabble with baking, I’m no pastry chef or anything, but I do know a few simple rules about baking. The temperature of the oven has to be right, as well as timing is pretty important. If you under bake it comes out too doughy, if you over bake its burnt and more than likely dry. There are certain ingredients that are pivotal to the recipe and then others that you can experiment with. It can be easy and fun, but at the same time you can under no circumstances be a reckless baker, if you are just throwing ingredients around or you aren’t setting the oven to the right temperature, or setting the timer to remind you, then you get a mouthful of nastiness.
I’ve had almost a decade of dating experience and more of baking experience and I can’t say that I’ve learned a whole lot from it except that I enjoy baking more than dating. But I will try to pull from my shallow well of knowledge to help you see dating in a baking perspective.

The first rule of baking, the temperature has to be right. In order for dating to work out at all there has to be a form of attraction between the two people involved. If there is no attraction, nothing is going to happen. There has to be something pulling the two people together; weather it’s shallow attraction, sense of humor, common interest/cause, something’s got to be there to begin with, otherwise you are placing the dough in a broken oven and you’re going to be waiting around for a long time with no finished product in the foreseeable future.

Next - timing. Sure, you have the oven ready to go, the temperature is just right, there’s the friendly banter, the constant flirting, so now it’s all about how long to go on before you admit to each other your true feelings. There are the anxious bakers; the ones who want to shout it out right away, but that’s like taking a cake out of the oven prematurely, it deflates. D&D was an anxious baker. He kept opening the oven to see if the cake was ready and I, being the cake, was not ready. Rather I sat in the middle of the oven petrified that someone actually wanted to bake me. Enough of the analogies with me, it’s getting comical thinking of myself as a cake.
Then there is the opposite, closing the oven door and forgetting you’ve got the cake in the oven. You continue to flirt and be friendly, but you’ve left the cake in the freaking oven and you forgot to set the timer! I think we all know what happens to a cake forgotten in the oven at 350 degrees, it burns, starting at the corners and working its way into the middle. A cake, err, girl could grow cynical or bitter from the outside-in waiting for the baker to open the door and take her out of the oven. If the baker is not careful the cake could grow to hate him for leaving her in the oven so long and in the end, it is the cake that ends up hurt and temporary ruined for other bakers to enjoy.

It’s okay to experiment with some ingredients, you can choose different chips to put into the recipe for chocolate chips, and the cookie can still turn out well. Those chips could be different personalities, hair colors, body shapes, senses of humor, etc. But then there are ingredients like the egg, or the baking soda, these you cannot experiment with, the real life equivalent to the egg or baking soda depends on your standards, for some it’s that they have to be a member of the same religion, they have to share similar values. Without similar values the cookies won’t turn out right no matter if you have the temperature and the timing worked out perfectly, things on the outside will look like they are progressing smoothly, but when all is said and done they end up flat and tasting a little off, for some people, they’ll keep eating the cookies no matter what (as some people will stay in a relationship they don’t really care about just for the sake of being in a relationship) and for others they will throw the cookie out and start over.

My advice to all you young aspiring bakers (guys), pay attention to the temperature and the timer and for all you baked goods (the ladies) if you feel you’ve been in the oven too long, get out before it’s too late, and chances are it’s not going to work out with the baker that put you there. But maybe despite all the similarities between baking and dating you shouldn’t take advice from someone who thinks its okay to compare them.