since when do people go on dates? what IS a date?

I didn't even get to the good part! Whoops.

Soooo, Precious Pete does call Wednesday to talk about what we should do Thursday. All of you out there who read and live by "the rules" go fuck yourself because I can't do those things. I don't care about the three days you have to wait or this or that or blaaah okay.

7:55 pm - Incoming call from: Pete
Ignore!

I chickened out. I'm a baby. I'm childish and immature and EXTREMELY NERVOUS! So I don't pick up or call back right away. I need to first listen to his voicemail and see what he has to say, and then wait, for a good solid chunk of time to calm down and sort out all the things I could possibly say when I do eventually call him back. hummmph

His voicemail is adorable. Makes me giddy, tummy tumbles as my dear friends in the chick lit world might say. He wants to meet up around 8p and wonders where we should go? (We live on opposite sides of the city)

I have no idea where to go? Since when is it my decision? I want him to pick. I'm terrible at making decisions. Most of the time I really just don't care, but I don't like being responsible for things like that... So before I call him back I call two of my trusted guy friends - my older sister's age - who happen to be very, very close friends with Pete. Remember? I told you he was my sister's friend.

They are thrilled, which really, calms my nerves. I learn quite a bit in those two conversations. He's into service work? Volunteering? Who is this guy! I only know him as the cute, blonde drunk that I always partied with in college. (Okay, I knewww there was a sweet side). So again, they are both thrilled that we're going out for drinks, think this could be a great thing in the making, and assure me that he is the chillest, most social, not awkward person so the whole "first date thing" should be an issue.

I seriously doubt that, but I'm trying to relax.

I call him back, and he's great. I find out he's in law school (I guess was too drunk Saturday to remember this) and he finds out I'm living in the same neighborhood as his law school (he was too drunk on Saturday to remember this as well.) Welp, perfect, we can then meet at a bar around his school since he'll be in class until around 8, and I won't have to travel far from my abode.

Oh
my
God.

I'm going on a date.

Who goes on dates?! Adults or something?! This is all a very new, scary world to me. Coming from a school that was well known for the LACK of dating culture and the seriously overbearing hook up culture. We didn't go on dates in college (or high school) until we were already dating someone. I know it's all backwards, as do most of you I'm sure... but my god -

This is a date.

wedding rings

I guess I never knew how many people in this god damn city are married. Let me try that again - I never paid attention to how many hot, attractive, intelligent men wear wedding rings. Of course I know that nearly every adult considers, assumes, actually does get married but something fucking magical happens when you graduate college and marriage consumes you. I seriously look at every person I pass on the streets, in the grocery market, in line at Starbucks and think hmmm, I wonder if we will start talking and begin dating and fall in love and get married. I wonder if... you would make a good husband, father to my children? JESUS! I'm 22 and so terribly single yet the only thing I can keep busy with all day is trying to figure out which man, oh, I don't know on this PLANET, I will marry...

Maybe I should try talking to a random guy before I wonder if he'll be able to father my children and live happily ever after.

This is just the start of these rants... I'm telling you, this subject consumes me as of lately. I will go on, and on, and on and on again about how I obsess over this future husband of mine - this future husband that I have not yet met - this future husband, fuck... who says I'll even find a husband? So far not too many guys have wanted to stick around and sort through my issues, to deal with my craziness, to fight the perfect, double personality, Gemini that I am.

Ugh, day 1 of this blog and it just crossed my mind that perhaps this is only going to make me more crazy. I mean, what did I say, hmm 2 hours ago? That I thought 'coming clean' with myself would be a good way to feel sorted out? Explained? Sane? Maybe if I create this space to vent and to think and to write, it will just consume me even more. And by 'it' I mean this constant, terrible, tragic consummation of mine - men. Finding a boyfriend. Wanting a boyfriend. Desperately wanting a boyfriend. Deciding I don't want a boyfriend. No, I certainly don't need a boyfriend. Fuck, maybe single life is good for me...

Oh, and then it all becomes so clear again - I'm on this never ending trip... to find myself. To be honest with myself. To just, be me.