Thursday, August 21, 2008

Dates For The Single Girls

It's great when your single and have lots of single girl friends. Without them, who would truly understand and appreciate the good, bad, and ugly dating adventures? As I mentioned a few blogs back, I got super drunk (oopsa) before meeting up for a drink date a week or two ago and onlyvaguely remember meeting with him. Strange enough, I never heard from him again. Well after I apologized, via text, for being a drunken nightmare, got a reply saying,

"it's ok, your lucky I'm so forgiving : ) "

Uckk. Obviously, he is desperate. No human being in their right mind should want to date me after the horror show that I displayed.

I never called him. He never called me. Done & done.

Then this week rolled along, and low & behold yours truly, plus two of my gal pals all had dates lined up. (Well one refuses to call it a date, but we know better). Mine was on Wednesday and before I went, these are the last parting words from two of my friends:

Emily: don't get too drunk! Sip!
Mhern: have fun!!!! don't get tipsy!!!

Great. Just great. I swear, that was the only date I ever showed up drunk. Seriously. And it wasn't even like I was super interested in him. So there.

The night turned out to be great. Really. Rarely do I see potential or interest in any one. Most people I am left with feelings of, "meh. nice guy, not bad, ho hum. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to hangout with him again." or "ABSOLUTELY not. I never want to see this person again. Too passive. Way too corny and accommodating. Weird 1/2 tooth. Too short. Weirdo hairy knuckles. Too bald. Pathetic. No conversation" and on and on and on. You get the picture.

But this guy I went out with, I really can't say a bad thing. I had a genuine good time. So now I'm left with the dilemma of what now? Will we ever hangout again? Maybe it was all in my head, he wasn't all that impressed with me, the tables have turned, and I'll never hear from him again? You know, stupid girl blah blah blah. I choose from now on to just go with it and see how things play out.

Mornings before and after dates usually consist of "So how did it go?" or "Are you excited? Nervous? Do you want to see him again..." blah blah blah

I was thinking about it yesterday and feel bad for guys because girls talk about EVERYTHING. Seriously, if I was a guy, I'd be cursing the creators of "Sex & The City", who gave girls permission to not only have sexual standards, but talk freely about everything. Two of my oldest friends & I have talked openly about pretty much anything since we started having anything good to talk about, but "Sex & The City" helped piles and piles of girls learn conversation skills to share their adventures.

Guys of course talk about stuff to a certain extent. How could they not? They are the journalists of details. They generally mention the Who, what, where, when, why, & anything weird and out of the ordinary. Rarely have I heard guys get into serious specifics. But then again, I'm a girl and how many guys want to gush about their sex lives with me? Girls on the other hand get into DETAILS. Gentlemen beware, if there is something super different or not desired by the female race, we are going to find out. That's probably why for so long women were not "supposed" to talk about their sex lives or really get into the good stuff. Men probably feared that once women started talking and discussing whats good, normal, etc., they would start making demands. Men would then have to start making an effort, stop being so selfish in bed, and start playing by our rules. Once Sex & The City hit, the power has shifted in someways and I think that's great.

So apparently I sound like a feminist a bit? To tone it down some, there are also instances when there is no need to say anything and I think that's when it's the best. We talk out of excitement, humor, disgust, or simply just to talk. But when things are at their best, I don't think you need to get into it or actually know how to express it. And that's definately what I hope for in my life.

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