I’m a Deer Caught in Headlights with Sand on My Knees
It has come to my attention (mostly through self doubt) that I have failed at this blog. Rereading through past entries I’ve become aware of my lack of articulation, my failing social life, and my extreme awkwardness. I have the horrible tendency to complain (hey I’m going it now) I want my stalkers (yes I’m talking to you, Marisa) to be fully entertained while reading. I have tried to compensate for my tedious musing by posting short videos that have brought me out of feeling of ennui in the past (Muppets are always good for this). In order to start fresh I will give you a vague recounting of my past weekend.
For the first time in two years someone actually asked me out, but pretty sure I botched that up with my great impression of a Deer caught in Headlights. I blame my very awkward and nervous reaction to my horrible lack of good experience with men. The first guy to ask me out (I said yes) proceeded to sort of stalk me for a few weeks after he had called off our supposed movie date. I eventually had to yell at him to leave me alone when he started showing up at my work everyday and calling my house at least 10 times a day. After calling it off I was informed that he had stalked his ex-fiancee (didn’t even know he had one) and was not exactly a good guy. The second “Date” I went on was with my ex who I had to drive to the restaurant (he didn’t have a car) and proceeded to answer his phone several times and flirt with the waitress. Thus my utter awkwardness is slightly understandable.
In other social life news I did manage to go out to a bar the other night with Bill and Deanna, a most enjoyable occasion. At the end of the night our driver became too intoxicated to drive us ladies home and I couldn’t stay longer or the smoke would destroy me, so we enlisted the aide of Sven. Sven picked us up across the street from the Meanwhile, causing us to get soaked in our mad dash across the street. After a slight confusion involving directions to my apartment he dropped me off at the end of my street (can’t get in there with all the construction). While making my tipsy jog across the construction site I ended up stepping in a pile of wet sand, losing a sandal to it’s caliginous depths. When I went to retrieve my lost comrade I ended up losing the other one and when all was said and done came out with two wet, sand covered flip flops and dirty knees on my favorite pair of jeans. I’m a little annoyed about my jeans being dirty now, but in my inebriated state it was quite amusing.
