Hole 7, Date Like You Mean It

So with the help of Google Maps I made my way to the mini putt date this evening (it took 23 minutes of travel time, just as google had predicted). I don't know why, but I seem to dread dates. Once I'm actually in the date it's fine, but the leadup is always brutal. I very rarely actually want to go. I'd definitely rather stay home and watch TV.

I was early, so Gilbert hadn't arrived yet. When he pulled up in his white Honda Civic and got out of his car, he looked at me in a way that made me feel beautiful. I was very aware of the way I was standing and of how my hair was blowing in the wind. It was strange and wonderful.

We got our putters and I ended up paying for our games (he totally intended to, but I insisted). He picked the blue ball because he was wearing a blue shirt, and I picked the purple ball on account of my purple shirt. Yes, that was my idea. Yes, I basically made him pick the blue ball. And yes, I did hope the connotation of his ball wouldn't strike him as it struck me. Oh my......

So this guy is a golfer. He knows what he's doing. But he was very relaxed about the whole thing, allowing me to retry horrible shots and ignoring the five swings it took me to sink a ball that should have been sunk in one. He taught me how to hold my putter, but didn't push his lessons on me. It made me want to actually do it right. There was a group of four ahead of us, so we played every hole twice instead of standing there waiting. Then we took our best score out of both tries as the score to write on the card.

The group ahead of us was part of an even bigger group. A church youth group, as it turns out. They were playing "Epic Golf," which basically was mini golf with a bunch of weird rules for each hole (Hole 4, face backward and putt the ball between your legs; hole 12, hold the club to your head and spin around ten times before putting; hole 17, don't get the ball into the hole - player closest to the hole after 3 strokes gets the least amount of points...). The group was really nice and tried to let us go ahead of them, but there were so many groups doing the same thing, we inevitably had to wait at some point. We talked to them for a bit and they ended up convincing us to try their game for the last three holes. I felt silly. It was fun.

Gilbert complimented me on my shirt. He said I looked cute.

After our game (the score card said we tied, but he totally won) we agreed that the night was not over. We headed back to his area of the city for some drinks and snacks. He brought me to a bar that he used to frequent quite often. We ordered beer and nachos and talked.

We talked about many things, but we eventually began talking about The Site. He asked me how I had come about joining. I got a little anxious, because I was sure he didn't want to know that I am sharing the details of our date, however anonymous I am keeping his identity. I ended up caving just a bit, and fessing up about the fact that my friends are paying for it and that they were the ones who convinced me to join. Then I started gushing about how wonderful they all are, and how nice it is to be able to share stuff like this with them.

We talked about dating many people at once, and how it's no big deal as long as it remains casual. We talked about how interesting The Site is from a sociological perspective, and we talked about some of our strategies and struggles on The Site. I even told him about my first- and second-date outfit method. He applauded me for my ingenuity.

After a couple hours of fairly good conversation he paid the bill and we left the bar. He walked me to my car and asked for a hug. (That's always awkward, when they ask. Really, though, I guess I can't blame them. It'd be worse to just go in for a hug and be denied, right?) I granted him the hug willingly and we parted ways.

Upon reflection, I am comfortable saying that this date was pretty good. I think if he asked me out again, I'd say yes. (For the record, it'd be my first third-date with a man from The Site. That's big). On a scale of one to ten, I'd say Gilbert has moved up from a seven to about an eight. He's pretty alright.

Thing is, though, I got home and had a message waiting for me on my answering machine. It was from Real Life. Oh, I totally like him. He texted me today to tell me about the new puppy he just got. He sent me a picture and everything. I felt earlier on that I was the only one initiating contact, but that's not the case anymore. He has contacted me four individual times just today! He's cute and he's real... and we have physical chemistry, which is more than I can say about Gilbert... so far...

I don't know... They're both great. And I got another message from Five today that was great too. I like them all, I think, and that's strange to me. I feel like I'm lying to each of them when I don't explain that I'm going on dates with other guys. At the same time, I'm still trying to figure out whether there are actually feelings with them, or if I can just see that they're quality. It's one thing to know someone's a great guy; it's another thing entirely to want to kiss that great guy. All things considered, I think so far I'm still leaning towards Real Life as my favourite of the three, but the other two are definitely not out of the game yet.

Wow. That just made me feel dirty, calling it a game. Is that what my love life has become? This is weird........

Reality Dating (Virtually)

I had a phone date with Real Life a couple days ago. It was nice and I giggled a lot and we talked about some real things... I don't think he realized that I got his jokes. I guess maybe I respond to jokes in a dryly sarcastic manner, so people don't realize that I am also joking. I guess maybe, if Real Life and I will be continuing this long-distance correspondence, I'll have to work on that a bit. We have a date scheduled for September when he comes back to the city for a week-long visit. I read on his Facebook page that he's planning on moving back here next March, but I don't know that yet because he hasn't told me.

There's also another guy, who is sort of from real life. He's the brother of a new girlfriend of mine. We haven't yet met in person, but we've been talking on Facebook. So far we've only discussed the topic of music in any depth, and he's a die-hard fan of Ben Folds (a man I also happen to quite appreciate). So I guess let's call this sort of real life guy Five (because of Ben's previous band. Get it? Get it???)

Five seems okay enough, although it's always a little scary when friends are involved. What if I don't end up liking him? Will my new girlfriend hate me? And do you think he's telling her everything I say to him? He probably is. That's probably okay...

Oh, and Gilbert and I have a date booked for this week. I did a horrible thing and played rather aloof after our last cemetery date. He texted me a few times and I kept not being able to respond right away - I was getting ready to go on a canoe trip that weekend. I told him I'd drop him a line when I got back...... and I didn't. I know, horrible. I really did intend to, I just wasn't very inspired at any given moment, so I kept putting it off.

He texted me today and asked if I had fallen in the lake. Cute. I don't deserve him. But isn't this neat??? All you blog readers who have heard me say time and time again that I want to be pursued: CHECK IT OUT!!! I think that just might be what is happening. We small-talked for a bit and told each other about our plans for the upcoming weekend. He said that his family was getting together at his uncle's "property" (is that rich-person-speak for "estate"?) which is nearby:

I'd love to ask you to come but I worry it would be too much since we've only been on one semi-creepy date, so I'll just hint at it :) Do you like mini putt?

Again, cute. I absorbed the hint without really responding to it (he's right, it would be too much) and let him know that I do, in fact, enjoy mini putt. At least, I liked it seven years ago, which I think is the last time I played. So that's that. We're mini putting on Thursday.

And now I have to figure out what the heck I'm doing. And thinking. And feeling. I know that dating is not the same as marriage, especially not casual dating, but I'm a one-man woman. Always have been. At what point do I become a two-timer (or, heaven forbid, a three-timer)? At what point do I decide that I like one guy more than the rest and say goodbye to the others?

At what point do I decide to end this blog? Because if my mission is successful, termination is inevitable...

Are You Afraid of the Dark?

Never say I'm not a woman of my word.

I took a month, and I sat back. I just let things happen. Broker did end up asking me out on a third date, and I had nothing really holding me back, but no real reason to go either, so I said no. It was for the best, really. I mean, he's great, but I'm just not excited about him.

And then my computer died. Work was so busy in the month of June and then I started a summer course, so I still haven't had an opportunity to get it fixed. (Case in point: I just broke into my sister's house and am using her computer to type out this blog). There were a couple guys that I was talking to, but having no computer made it extremely difficult to be a reliable communicator, and they all ended up losing interest; including The Comedian, I'm pretty sure. Haven't heard from him in a couple weeks.

But one exciting thing did happen in the past month: Gilbert has come home. It took him a few weeks to contact me after settling back into his Toronto life, but he eventually came through, and we planned a date. For this evening. We just said goodbye.

Now before I tell you about the date, I must remind you of how Gilbert and I began talking in the first place. He sent me a message, latching on to the whole cemetery thing (I've mentioned that I say in my profile how much I love a certain cemetery in town, right? Well, I do, and guys always seem to gravitate towards that as a point of conversation). This message, the very first time I ever heard from him, said that he lives very close to the cemetery, but that he's never been and he thought we should go for a walk. Our conversation sprung from there, revealing the fact that he couldn't actually go for the walk yet because he was in the Czech Republic, yada yada yada... So every conversation we've ever had about meeting each other has been just as much about the cemetery as the meeting itself.

Next important piece of information: Gilbert works long hours. He often doesn't get home until around 7 or 8 PM. That means that the earliest we could plan to get together was 8:30 PM. Yes, that's right - we planned a walk through a cemetery at 8:30 PM.

If you're wondering if I have loving, supportive and protective friends who take care of me, the answer is yes. As soon as they heard about the date, they became rather concerned. I was given specific instructions regarding how light it needed to be to be able to remain in the cemetery, as well as a lesson on street lights and how they are a good indication of how late is too late. They also suggested I bring a rape whistle in my purse... ridiculous...

So this afternoon, as I was getting ready for my date, I started to panic. I've spent so long building Gilbert up in my head, I was almost afraid to meet him. I took about an hour figuring out what to wear (my first date outfit was no good as it's no longer winter and the green shirt is long-sleeved. For the record, the second date outfit will need to be re-thought as well. So much work...) I settled on black flip flops, a cute skirt with a maroon print, a ruffly, sleeveless black shirt and curly hair. Silver hoop earrings and Celtic cross necklace. (I should also say that I scoured my apartment for the whistle I'd been given back when I was an orientation leader in University. That's right, my rape whistle. I found it and put it in my purse. Better safe than sorry, right? Right. Guess my friends weren't so ridiculous after all. Or, at least, if they are, I am too.) I still wasn't sure about the outfit as I left the house, until a guy came out of a store right in front of me and made up a song on the spot about how my name was "Cutie." Thank you, Store Man...

I suppose I should let you know at this point that my mind has been elsewhere lately. I met a real life man last weekend who's actually pretty wonderful. We were clearly both into each other, but he doesn't live in the city (or the province, for that matter), which complicates things. He has my number, email address, everything, but definitely hasn't contacted me yet. So I'm thinking about that.

Gilbert was late for our date. He texted at 8:33, saying that the bus hadn't shown up. He was actually pretty close by and I had driven my car, so I offered to come pick him up. His directions were, "Head down the street and you'll see me walking towards you, wearing your favourite colour." Amazing. As if he purposely took note of the silly comment I made one time about how my favourite colour was brown! Sure enough, I drove down the street and there he was, brown shirt and all.

We drove back to the cemetery, found a parking spot and headed out for our walk. By this time it was 8:45. I tried not to think about my friends and the looks of disappointment and apprehension I'd be receiving if they knew what was going on. I started walking at super speed (only slightly faster than my regular pace - for some reason I'm a very fast walker.) We walked around for a bit, and I could feel the sky growing darker and darker. As soon as I realized that it was bats circling our heads and not birds, I decided that we should head towards the exit.

The thing about cemeteries, apparently, is that they close at night. The exit was locked, the gates too high to climb. I panicked for only a moment, and then decided to try another exit. Even if this second exit was locked, I seemed to remember the gates being rather low. I was pretty confident I could climb them, even in that stupid skirt.

It took us a while to navigate our way through the cemetery in the growing darkness, but we enjoyed ourselves in the meantime. We found a willow tree and Gilbert suggested we swing from its branches. Done and done. We finally found the second gate, locked just as the first. I took my shoes off, threw them over the fence, and tried to climb as expertly as possible while still clinging to my skirt for modesty's sake. I made it over in one piece. Thank the good Lord.

With the night still young, Gilbert suggested we get some gelato. We grabbed the car and relocated.

He swings his arms a lot, kind of like a monkey or a second-grader, and he sometimes walks with his head down as though he's got something to be ashamed of. But he's got beautiful, rich brown eyes and he's a good height. For those of you from my hometown, he kind of looks like Eric, but skinnier. Oh, and he didn't remember all the time, but you could tell he was trying really hard to remember to be a gentleman. He made me walk on the inside once, rather awkwardly, and it was totally cute. And he always held the door.

He got Raspberry and Pomegranate/Blueberry gelato and I got Pomegranate/Blueberry and Lemon. Both in sugar cones. He asked if he could treat me. It was sweet.

Gelato in hand, we decided to stroll around the neighbourhood and look at houses. He likes to do that almost as much as I do, apparently. He even understood my sentiments about the majestic power of the Red Door. At least, he said he did...

We only got lost once, and it was only sort of lost. Disoriented, really. By 10:40 we had found our way back to my car. I drove him home and we said goodbye.

Ten minutes later I received a text:

"Thanks again for the wonderful evening. You're super cute and I really enjoyed your company!"

He actually said, "Your super cute," but I'm deciding not to hold that against him.

So that was my date with Gilbert. I think I had a pretty good time. I'm not smitten by any means, but this one seems like he's a pretty alright guy. I think, if he's willing, I'll see him again. And in the mean time, maybe I'll try not to sit by the phone and wait for a real life call from a real life man. Oh jeepers...

Farm Boy, Fetch Me That Pitcher.

I've figured it out: Broker looks like a taller, chunkier Cary Elwes... with brown hair... and a bit of a higher voice... (You know Cary Elwes - of Princess Bride fame? Our dear sweet Westley, with eyes like the sea after a storm? Yeah, that guy). I saw him again on Sunday. But wait, let's backtrack a bit. It's been a big week.

Gilbert was a no show on the 8th. As a matter of fact, he's still not back. He sent me a message, and apparently he'll be staying in the Czech Republic pretty much all summer. What's worse, I'm pretty sure I dropped the ball in the way that I responded. I think I overdid it. I haven't heard from him in a few days... But perhaps it's for the best. It's tough to imagine having to get to know someone all summer over email, staying interested while still remaining uninvested.

So then there's Broker. He sent me an email last Sunday asking me to dinner and a movie. I put off answering for a day or two, partially because I was hoping that Gilbert would come home and I could meet him first... but also because I think dinner and a movie was a little daunting to me. It's so datey! Could I really find conversation topics to fill a full meal? This guy doesn't talk much. And there's also the issue of pay. He paid for our drinks last time, so does that mean he'd pay for the date this time too? I'd feel horrible letting him dish out all that cash just for me to later tell him that I was more interested in someone else. But if I offered to pay for just my share, wouldn't that be a little cold? And it would definitely be sending the wrong message if I paid for both of us...

Fortunately, Broker solved the problem for me. He got a little anxious, so he texted after a day and a half of non-response from me. He asked if I wanted to go out again sometime. This was my big chance to date on my own terms! I responded:

"That'd be fun! I'm crazy busy with work right now, but I could spare a few hours away! I'm free Sunday afternoon - wanna go for a walk?"

That's right, a walk. Nobody would have to pay, it provides great opportunity for conversation, and is not nearly as intense. Brilliant.

So we met for our walk on Sunday. He picked the location and we ended up walking through a neighbourhood in the city that I hadn't yet explored. It's a beautiful area with huge houses (going for about $5 million each) and nice walking paths, etc. It was a nice walk. We talked, we laughed... we were silent sometimes, but it wasn't awkward. We found a park bench facing some tennis courts and we sat and watched the tennis players for about an hour. When I had to go, he offered to walk me back to my car. I declined (I'm still not very good at letting go of my Strong, Capable Woman in order to allow a man to take care of me).

On our first date when it was time to go, I went in for a hug at the end. This time, I decided to let him call the shots. He stood there awkwardly for just a little too long, so I smiled, said goodbye and walked away.

I think that right there is the main problem. Broker's just fine, really. He's nice, he's smart, he makes me laugh, he's relatively attractive... but I'm pretty sure I could walk all over him. If we got into a relationship, I have a feeling he would let me boss him around. And I'm just not sure that's the kind of relationship I want to be in. I mean, it may have worked for Buttercup at first, getting Westley to polish her horse's saddle and fetch her pitchers, but as soon as Westley became a pirate, it was the back of the hand if she spoke out of turn.

So here I am again, not really into Broker, not really feeling like Gilbert's into me, trying to find time to email The Comedian but not really feeling very excited about any of it. Add to all that the three hour conversation I had with my ex the other day... I think it's safe to say I'm just plain spent.

Maybe I'll sit back for a while and just let things happen. If there are men out there who really want me, I'm sure they're more than capable of putting in a little effort...

Don't Drink and Date

So I just had a lovely 20-minute walk, 'neath ominous but self-contained rain clouds, trying to figure out how I felt about the date I just had with Broker. I weighed the pros and cons and tried to imagine what sort of blog I would write when I got home, when all of a sudden it hit me: I was humming. Billy Joel: My Life. Excellent tune.

So I guess the humming speaks for itself. I'm not gonna lie, I wasn't really looking forward to this date. In retrospect, I shouldn't have been so pessimistic. It really wasn't so bad. In fact, I think I might have enjoyed myself. One thing I've learned, though, about myself and the world of dating:

Never, never ever go out for DRINKS.

Bad idea. If it's a horrible date I suppose it's okay, because you can make up an excuse and leave after one beer. But if you're even having a sort of okay time, even if you drink at a normal speed, you'll have to order a second drink before you know it. I had two pints tonight. Maybe it was my skimpy dinner, but I really shouldn't even be typing right now. My hands feel all out of control and I can still taste the beer. I'm not drunk, but I'm certainly tipsy.

Don't make fun - I'm little.

So the date went well. Broker was cute. About six feet tall, nice eyes, brown hair... really nice smile. He was totally shy, but that was kind of cute too. Cute, but it came with its challenges. It was clear that, until he felt comfortable with me, I would have to create most of the conversation. Fortunately I was able to step up like a pro, and he warmed up in no time. We talked and laughed and (I think) enjoyed each other.

We are very different. He likes math and business and technology. He's an introvert to the max. He kept talking about all the times he has gone and will be going drinking recently. (Interesting sidenote: I mentioned that, although I like drinking, I'm not really the kind of person who enjoys getting trashed. Moments later, he mentioned that this month was an anomaly as far as drinking is concerned, and he's usually very reserved. Hmmm...)

All in all, I think I had a good evening. I think if he were the only man in my life, I would definitely go on a second date with him. As it is, I think I'll see how things go with Gilbert once he gets back to Canada (in five days!) and go from there. That is, assuming Broker even wants to see me again...

As much as The Site kind of demands it, I'm not a big fan of dating more than one person at a time. Is that going to be a problem later, do you think?

Catch and Release

I'm not crazy.

I'm not crazy, but I am totally weird. I don't know how normal people do it, being all casual about relationships. I'm not casual. I pretend to be casual, I tell my friends I'm casual, but I'm not casual. I stress and I worry and I ponder and I reflect and every little thing that happens means something big. It's a constant effort to pretend I'm happy to just go with the flow. I hate when relationships aren't defined. When they're not defined, they can slip away at any second. I'm afraid of that.

Is this too honest?

I told my friends last night that I wasn't very stressed about the fact that Gilbert hasn't emailed me in a little over a week. I explained it by saying that I hadn't even met him yet - only a crazy person (or someone very very weird) would obsess over a guy she hasn't even met yet. And, to my credit, I really don't think I'm obsessing. But that's the only truth in what I shared with my friends last night.

For the record, I didn't lie intentionally. I think I just told them what I wanted to believe about myself. The truth is, though, I do think about it. Every day that goes by without an email from him makes me a little disappointed. As it gets further and further away from his last email, I lose a little more hope. I try to resign myself to the fact that I must have said something wrong or shown too much of my personality too soon and he's written me off. I tell myself that's okay and that there are other fish in the sea. I remind myself that I have a date with one such fish. Tomorrow.

Go fishing, girl. Forget this guy.

But I think he's pretty great, and I don't really want to forget him. So I was very pleased, more than I'd like to admit, when I checked my email today and found the following message from Gilbert:

;) thinking about ya, just don't have the time to thumb out an email yet.

That's all I needed. I'm good now. Crazy? No, not crazy... definitely weird, though...

Futile Attraction

I've forgotten what it's like to have a crush. I don't know if I crush the same way every woman crushes or if I go a little overboard, but I have a feeling I'm pretty hardcore. Go big or go home, right? Right. I think I have a crush on Gilbert. In the past week I have been guilty of all of the following:

• He told me what neighbourhood he lives in. I google mapped it and calculated how long it would take to get there from my house.
• I find every word he writes adorable. He told me that he bought running shoes the other day and it made me sigh like a little girl. I don't even run.
• I showed his profile to my mom. For the record, she thinks he's very special.
• I had a daydream yesterday wherein he came back from the Czech Republic and before he even had a chance to tell me he was home, we ran into each other at a pub. He was even hotter in person.

He was supposed to come back to Canada this past Friday. A few days before the fateful day, he emailed to say that his return had been delayed. He won't be coming home until June 8. I'm not going to lie, I'm a little frustrated. I just want to meet him already! I don't like growing closer and closer to someone I haven't met in person.

For the record, I have good reason for this. About five years ago, I met a guy online. Through myspace, actually, which was very uncharacteristic of me, but he was creative and interesting and totally hot. So we started emailing each other - a two or three pager every single day for months. We spoke on skype a few times and he had a very normal sounding voice. We talked for hours and hours and I loved it. He made me laugh. He got me.

We finally agreed that we should meet. He took a train all the way from New York City and I met him at the train station. The moment I saw him in person, though, all my hopes of a whirlwind romance were crushed. I just wasn't attracted to him. He looked exactly like he did in his pictures, but there was something in the way that he stood or carried himself that I just didn't like. We spent the next ten days together in complete agony. It was horrible.

I need to be attracted to the man with whom I will share my life. This may sound superficial, but it's true. And yes, there have been guys who became more attractive to me as I got to know their personalities, and yes, I believe attraction can grow; but I really do think that, for the most part, you can pretty much tell right away. It's either there or it's not.

So all this to say that I want to meet Gilbert because I want to see if I'm actually attracted to him. And if I'm not, I don't want to waste any more time. I suppose I could find in him a good friend, but in all honesty, I'm not in the market for any more male friends. The ones I have are enough. It may seem cold, but it's the truth.

In other news, Broker and I are most likely meeting this coming Thursday. Drinks: time and place to be determined. Every email I get from him makes me a little less interested in him, which is unfortunate. Maybe it's just that I'm becoming more and more interested in Gilbert? I don't think it's only that. Broker seems to be hungover a lot. I enjoy a drink just as much as the next person, but I'm not really into habitual hangovers. I'm getting too old for that shit.

Also, there's a new guy. A comedian. He's funny and cool and I think I'd probably enjoy going out with him, but I'm not feeling there's much by way of commonalities between us that would make things work in the long run. At any rate, I'm enjoying talking to him for the time being. And he said the other day that receiving an email from me makes him smile. I liked that.

So the journey continues. I'm trying to keep my eggs in many baskets, but it's hard when one of the baskets seems so much nicer than the rest...

Let's Pwn Those Newbs!

So if you haven't guessed by the huge gap between this entry and the last, things have slowed down a little. After messing things up with Frenchie, and after the catastrophic Security Guard date, I decided to step back and reconsider my approach. I changed my profile a bit. I took out some content and added some pictures. I remarketed myself. I relearned to boil an egg... and slowly but surely, things started to happen. Guys who I actually found attractive began to email me. Two, in fact, have particularly caught my interest, and I've been emailing them both for a couple weeks now. Allow me to introduce you:

First, let's meet Gilbert. That's not his name, that's his lizard's name (or at least it was until he found out the lizard was a girl... then he changed it to Gilberta). His first message to me was very straightforward. In my profile I mention one of my favourite places to walk, so he messaged me, said that he lives near there, and suggested we go for a walk sometime. This caught me off guard a little - I've gotten pretty used to the unwritten rules of The Site, and one of them is that you email each other a bit first before you agree to meet in person. But I thought about it, and decided that it's just as much a crap shoot either way, and I had nothing to lose by going for it. So with a witty reply email, I agreed that a walk would be a great idea.

Problem is, he's in the Czech. That's right, the Czech Republic. He's there on business. Turns out he'll be there until May 28, so we've ended up having quite a bit of time to get to know each other pre-date. His emails are great. We seem to share a lot of the same interests, and he has mentioned that he plays the guitar, which we all know is a big bonus for me. And for the record, he has put a handful of pictures up on his profile, and he looks totally cute. So that's pretty exciting. I look forward to seeing where this'll go...

The second e-man, for the purposes of this blog, will be dubbed Broker. He's not actually an insurance broker, but he does work for an insurance company, and I just think that'd be a pretty cool name. Maybe I'll name my first son Broker. It sounds solid.

So Broker was a bit of a hard nut to crack. He did seem interested at first, but he was kind of shy. He could carry a conversation enough to keep it going - he would ask at least a couple questions per email - but his questions were always rather dull and uninspiring. At least, they didn't make me excited to talk to him. It almost got to the point where I didn't want to bother anymore, but I guess that's the point when you can pull out all the stops and allow magic to happen.

I asked him to tell me a story; one that would teach me something about the person that he is. I know it's kind of an unfair question - it's pretty tough to summarize your whole persona into one anecdote - but I asked it of him anyway. And he responded. He responded well. He told me a story about a time when he borrowed his parents' car in university and the plates got stolen. It wasn't so much the story that impressed me as it was the fact that he stepped up. And for some reason, after that story email, his whole demeanor changed. He was a bit more confident, a bit more warm, a bit more real. I liked it.

So he asked for a story back, and that's when I realized what a difficult task it was that I had given him. I finally settled on a story about the first canoe trip I ever went on. It was long (I'm sure you've all figured out by now that I can be rather long-winded), but he seemed to like it. At least, he liked it enough to ask me out! I got an email from him tonight, asking if I'd be interested in going out for a drink or something. For a guy who lists "shy" on his profile as one of his characteristics, I'm kind of flattered, impressed and excited that he's wanting to pursue me. I will respond tonight in the affirmative, we'll choose a day for the date, and I'll keep you posted.

There's also another guy, but I'm not so sure about him. Let's call him Face: I made the first contact because I thought he was hot in his pictures. Shameless, I know. But he also seemed pretty cool, and he mentioned a couple things in his profile that resonated with me. So I sent him an email. Thing is, he spells the word "through" like "threw," and the word "know" like "no." Now for the record, I am totally happy to befriend poor spellers. I ignore the spelling mistakes of my friends (for the most part) and certainly don't let them change my opinion of them. But I'm really having a hard time getting past it in this one guy. He also spelled "sporadic" wrong, but really, who spells "sporadic" on a regular basis? He can't really be blamed for that. I don't know why it's bugging me so much. I made up a story in the shower this morning about what it would be like if we ended up dating, and how he would react if I made up a song to remind him how to spell the word "through." Then, of course, I proceeded to make up the song. It's pretty good, actually. Maybe I'll use it in my English class...

After rereading that last paragraph, I'm really not all that shocked that I'm still single. Oh gosh...

So anyway, that's what's going on. Those are the newbies: Gilbert, Broker, and Face. I promise, I'll write far more frequently now that I've got some fodder. Maybe even sooner than you think, if all goes well!