I have a DATE

It\’s a constant source of frustration to me that my idea-times and my blank-post-open times never quite seem to coincide. I try to keep a text document with which to share my inspirational nuggets, but once the ideas go in there, they have a nasty tendency to wither and die, once again forcing me to post a guilt update consisting mostly of links and pictures. (Not that there\’s anything wrong with links and pictures; it\’s just that you\’re unlikely to think to yourself, \”My word, that was a well-written link. And those pictures! Why, that\’s the equivalent of 3,000 words! Truly, this is something I must share with all my friends and facebook friends.\”)

One of the reasons for this is that I only open up a blank post with which to fill with my genius at ridiculous 0\’clock in the morning (which for the uninitiated is after bedtime o\’clock, but long before maybe-this-counts-as-getting-up-early o\’clock), a habit that tends to cause every original and creative brain cell in my skull to shrivel and whimper softly to themselves.

Part of it is that I\’m just out of practise. I haven\’t been writing as much since I started struggling with college work, favouring instead the relatively easy point and click of my beloved camera. I\’m not saying that photography is easier than writing; merely that it\’s about a million times easier if you have no idea what you\’re doing. Which I don\’t.

On that note… I\’m planning to go on a photography course, if I can get my butt in gear. And, with a similar butt-in-gear proviso, I also intend to take up dance classes. That is so unlike me… I\’ve spent the vast majority of my life trying to avoid any and all forms of strenuous physical activity, possibly explaining why I haven\’t flunked out of Starfleet Academy (surely the best euphemism ever). Fnarr fnarr, etc (wow – that was nerdy, and even I know that). I don\’t know what kind of dance classes to take, but I confess to being intrigued by the possibility of pole-dancing lessons. I hear you\’ve got to have great muscle tone, which I, just possibly, do not. I never did enjoy the \”climb the rope\” sessions in those dreaded PE lessons in middle school. Perhaps I\’m setting my sights too high and should just chain myself to a treadmill until I\’m really muscular?

So what\’s on my mind right now? It\’s Friday the 13th. So I wake up and I flick on the tv, and I (god knows why I do this) flick over to the news channel. And then I see it – plane crash, last night. OMG. My deepest condolences to the families who lost loved ones. I can\’t really imagine how it must feel to be strapped in your seat, with the walls of the plane around you, looking out the window to see the ground rushing closer and closer, the screams of your fellow passengers in your ears as the panic bubbling inside you reaches its boiling point. Actually I can – I had a dream about it once (post 9/11 stress) and it was god awful. This is why every time I get on a plane (which isn\’t often) I break out in a cold sweat. Yes, guys, girls sweat. Just thinking about being in an impending plane crash makes my skin crawl.

On a brighter note (though if you are like me, you tend to get depressed about anything you watch in the news) tomorrow is Valentine\’s Day. February 14th. Yay, right? WRONG! I have a dilemma, you see.

I have a date. That\’s right. Me…and a guy. \”So what?\” you ask. \”Someone as attractive and sexy and flawless as you must get so many dates!\”. Wrong again! This will sound immodest. In fact, it is immodest. But I think I\’m attractive. ( I lie – I know I\’m attractive). So guys tend to think that I am too good for them. They go – \”A girl like that is never gonna be interested in me\”. So they say hi and make conversation, but no one actually asks you out. And the guys that do ask me out are usually the ones who think that they, with their good looks and suave-ness and uber \”coolness\” and \”jockness\”, are God\’s gift to women. These are the guys who are the gifts that women, after one night of sex, tend to return to the store, gift wrapped for some other unfortunate girl to date.

Anyways…*glares at you for letting me ramble on*

I have a date. With a guy. Kinda cute. We\’ve known each other for two months. Casual friends, as in the \”Hi\” in the hallway kind. The kind that you wave to in the field on your way to your girlfriends. He\’s no Josh Hartnett or that guy from 90210 (I can\’t remember said actor\’s name at the moment). But he is cute.

Anyways…*glares at you AGAIN*

Tuesday, he walks up to me and says hi. Offers to carry my books, which I of course refuse, being an independant woman and that. We walk in silence – me wondering what the heck he wants from me, and why the heck is he walking beside me all of a sudden. And then he says – \”What are you doing for Valentine\’s?\” I say – \”Nothing – maybe I\’ll go out with the girls. Nothing concrete.\” And I was thinking, at that very moment…\’No way is he actually going to – \’

And that, right before I can finish that thought, he blurts out (blurts!!!) \”Want to go out? You *hesitation* and me?\”

And I say…\”Sure.\” It was automatic. It was unintentional! It was…*goofy grin moment* kinda warm and fuzzy in a way. Like I said – he is cute. He is friendly, and he isn\’t obnoxious. He is not a football player (guys with muscles on their muscles turn me off) which is good.

So why am I worrying about this? Why am I, one day away from the date, suddenly having second thoughts??? I\’ve dated before – but usually guys whom I know a little better than this. He is just a friend of a friend! A friend of a friend of a friend. I don\’t even have his number – and I didn\’t get it from him there. He sent me a message after he got my number from a friend! That is how much of a lack of a connection there is between me and him!

Aha! So THAT\’S why I\’m worrying. A little too late for that, right Poison? You\’ve just \”poisoned\” your Valentine\’s Day! (Lame!!!)

And the picture? One of mine.

And just so you know, he did say, \”So it\’s a date?\” And I said…\”Um…yeah.\”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH