Friday, July 22, 2011
Awesomosity and Algae
So the guy with the ferret in his profile picture (refer to #8 on the list from “Why Choose Coleslaw?”) came up as one of my “matches” today. Why am I paying for this? If I wanted a weird ferret guy I could just go to Petsmart’s rodent section.
I do feel like I’m scraping the bottom of the match.com barrel. Out of my 7 daily matches, I have typically already looked at or dated at least three. But I am going to squeeze every bit of dating juice that I can out of my membership before I join another site. I have two new dates tentatively set for next week. One is a tall tech-company co-owner that likes to run and is planning to travel around the world. The other is in grad school. He is holding parrots in his picture and has a charmingly cute smile. You’ll never believe what he’s studying...algae. I immediately thought of Chaco’s algae discussions. Really? Two algae studiers? Evidently “algal ecology” is all the rage these days. But maybe he’s a fungi, so I’ll give him a chance (I am so, so sorry, Reader, that you had to endure that joke).
The Comedian wrote me an email saying that he thought we had potential for “awesomosity.” Damn, he broke out superpowers of word creation. That always works on me. Every time. He said he had something adventurous that he wanted to do for a third date. I have no idea what that may be. This is a guy who ran away from bats crying “They’re in my hair!”
I’m sad to say that Chaco and I have fizzled. He said a couple of comments that seemed like he was frustrated with me dating other guys and not “knowing what we were doing.” I think he was too cool for me anyways. I should have known when he said that flash mobs were “so over” that it wasn’t going to work out. I really have no idea (nor do I care) what is “over” or not. I know what is fun...to me... and that’s really all that matters. He needs to find someone more self-conscious.
We went to dinner after our dance lessons. We had an amicable discussion, but when we walked to our cars we kind of just waved and said good-bye from ten feet away. No kiss. We have one more dance lesson left next week. I won’t mind going but I won’t mind when it’s over, either. I’m ready to turn a new page in this story and meet some new gentlemen prospects.
I’m going to The Hunter’s house tonight to roast marshmallows. We have officially reached the casual-hang-out stage. I know, you don’t have to tell me this is a bad idea. I almost didn’t write about it because I fear the judgements you will most certainly make (you will be right); but I feel my friends, acquaintances, and the three people in Malaysia who read this deserve to know.