Before we go on...

So... let me take this opportunity to explain a few things about myself, this date and why I started writing it all down in the first place.  I am, like many of my brethren (you know who you are), the result of a terrifying mixture of John Hughes movies, Smiths' lyrics, Nikki Sixx hair styles, black nail polish and lots of meals eaten in parking lots watching boys in Op Ivy t-shirts fall down trying to ollie.  I grew into a tall, goofball red head with bizarre fashion sense and a taste for all things lost and lonely. I believe strongly that I am funny and nice and sensitive but know I am rarely all 3 at the same time.  I have a touch and go relationship with reality and most feelings (I mean I feel all kinds of stuff, but I don't really understand anything) and more or less deal with the world through sarcasm and a lot of head nodding.  I am also good at fixing things.

I know, I know... I sound like pretty much everyone's dream girl and yes, I am super easy to date (please note: hint of sarcasm).  As much as it fills my heart with deep fear and nausea, I actually go on lots of dates and not all of them are terrible (but, of course, those are the ones that make the best stories).  Just ask my friends at work who have to hear about all of them - usually more than once - through cubicle walls and over lunches where they may have actually wanted to say something about something else.  Guess what?  Totes not happening - my date story takes precedence (as if!).  My friends are patient and indulgent, but also curious and ready to laugh at/ with me to ease the pain.  I almost always enjoy this telling more than the terrible dates themselves - mostly because I am making people laugh, and they, in turn, are making me feel better about this perceived life failure and we are making it this funny thing we do together rather than, you know, my life. 

Sigh... so after monopolizing many conversations and traumatizing unsuspecting passersby, people started suggesting perhaps a blog would just be easier for everyone since clearly I wasn't going to stop dating (like, ever) and it was amusing, but getting inconvenient.  However, it wasn't until I spun the tale of this illustrious date with Alex that my public began to demand that I document this whole situation online because it was too bizarre not to, and thus this blog was born (and named).  I wrote the first entry on the train on the way to rehearsal, the second one on the way home from rehearsal that same night.  It's fun so far.  Some people like it, some people don't like it, i dunno... maybe I'll keep writing it?  My aunt (who is 76) thinks it awesome - so that might be enough reason right there. 

In the interest of clarity, I feel I should explain that I am sure there is no way I am a complete non-factor in the outcome of my dates.  It's sincerely frightening to imagine that there is something in me that brings out this behavior in others, but I can't be totally without fault here.  Unless these things just sort of happen to me because I was meant to document this specific sub-strata of nut ball dating experiences...  I mean, I guess that could be my calling.  I don't know (clearly).  I'm just here for the free pens.  And also the criticism.

Thanks for reading.  I hope I will keep going.  It makes me happy.  Later sk8ers : )