awkward

Alrighty, so I shouldn't be so nervous about these things. It does not help.

Went out with The Face. He's extremely good-looking, but in this kinda wonky way. I saw him and got all excited. But, before you get your hopes up, I'll tell you right now, reader, it is not gonna happen. Here's why...

He was incredibly late (which isn't the end of the world, but coupled with everything else, bothered me). There were lots of awkward silences. Lots. He talked about ex-girlfriends and marriage/weddings a lot, so then I talked about ex-boyfriends and marriage/weddings a lot, leading to more awkwardness. I would talk about funny things (like my parents) and he didn't laugh. He's the musician type, and that's kinda all he wanted to talk about (reminding me of a particularly bad ex of mine). He travels all the time for "gigs," which 23 year old Lola would love, but 27 year old Lola finds annoying. He looked bored, leading me to get more and more nervous and ramble. He ordered food and didn't ask me if I was going to order anything. I talked about weird stuff. He was confident and smelled incredibly good, but didn't ask about my cats.

The date lasted less than Bean's date. The real kicker is that I would have stayed out later, just to see if maybe the awkward nerve stuff subsided, leading to awesomeness. But he def. wasn't interested, and when we parted, he was clearly anxious to get the fuck away from me. I think I was the Bean in the situation. I'm cool with it, because I don't want to see him again. But, regardless, that little bit of rejection isn't good for the self confidence, which has been wavering anyway.

Alejandro was wonderful, coaxing me through from a pre-date phone call and frantic texts from the bathroom. My other best male friend, I shall call him Dr. X, was also a doll via text from Chicago.

On my way home, I decided to give up on the Bracket. It is cursed. But, after a good night's sleep and some Buffy, I decided I do kinda want to give Patchy a try. He's hilarious and once he finally stopped being flaky about contacting me, it has been good. We talked, briefly, on the phone. I learned that he's had the soul-patch since high school. I told him the soul patch makes me nervous, and then quickly ended the conversation.

I've started this bracket, and I'm gonna finish it!

I have a headache today. I think its from all the talk about music...

Don't Fuck Up

Dear Dearest Lola,

You have a date with your number one seed tonight. This occurrence happened rather quickly. You got impatient, harassed the poor boy, he said pick a time and place, you said Thursday. He countered with Friday. You said, I have plans with my ladies on Friday, countering back with tonight or Sunday. He said tonight.

So, you've bathed and shaved. Watched some Buffy the Vampire Slayer to take your mind off the impending date (drinks at 9). You watched Xander's eye get fucked up, and that was unsettling, but you've shaken it off. You've thought about The Hills and how Alejandro got weepy today when Whitney left for NYC. You've eaten a carb-heavy meal, tucked away the teddy bear that lives in your bed (jic), and have oiled your hair with Moroccan oil. You're ready. But...

You're nervous as hell. And you don't know why. Perhaps because this date has so much more potential than Bean. Perhaps because the only first date you've been on in a year was with Bean, and well, you know how well that went. Perhaps you're nervous because you've come on really strong. Perhaps because this dude calls you on your shit (already); he's a straight-shooter. Perhaps because you're not really sure what his face looks like. Perhaps because he's skinny, and you've vowed never to date thin men. Perhaps because your hair is still wet, yet you sit here writing. Perhaps because you have offered to pay because he's in grad school and has no money. Perhaps because he's smart. Perhaps because he kindly emailed you the recipe for a perfect steak.

So, remember, Self, don't call him Face Guy to his face. Don't almost call him Face Guy, like the time you almost called Sister Kendra, Sister Satan during 10th grade bio. Don't get too drunk and tell him about the dating blog. You're an open book and while that is something you like about yourself, don't shoot yourself in the foot by announcing to this kid that's he's apart of some larger social dating experiment. Don't ask too many questions. Don't forget you're not fat like you think you are. Don't put all your eggs in one basket, or chickens in the hen house, or however that saying goes. Don't call yourself an alcholic or a whore. Don't talk about your ex-boyfriends, or too much about your cats. And for god's sake, Lola, don't come call him Face Guy.

That's all. Go get 'em Tiger.

Love always,

Lola