Monday, May 17, 2010

Circus Dating Part 2

People are destined for one another. That's the romantic idea that young girls have and I guess a part of me stills believes it. I'm going out of my comfort zone in hopes of finding the one. Figuring that from past relationships gone bad my pattern in men isn't the best. So, I'm going outside my stereotypical look book and well I'm not doing much better picking out a man.
After the last couples weeks of speed dating I'm starting to think being single forever is a much better and most likely a much more realistic option.
I naively let my friends set me up on blind dates again. You would think I would have learned from the last couple weeks not to trust a word my friends, especially the married ones say, when they describe a potential future Mr. Peterson to me. (You didn't actually think I'm the type to change my last name.)
I'm exhausted. Every night feels like I'm putting on a show. Playing dress up (which normally I love, but first impressions often say more about the person then a night of conversation) nothing to short or to revealing, but then I'm no old maid either. I hate heels, but flats and a fancy dress just don't work. I would prefer to just grab a beer and a light dinner, but flat screen TV's and high ceilings don't make for the easiest talking environment, especially on a first date. So instead I'm forced to be wined and dined at celebrity chef restaurants. I'm not complaining though, I love to eat. But, within the first five minutes of meeting someone new you usually know whether it's going to be a really long and painful night or a pleasant and fun one.
For the most part I've been spending the last few nights counting down the seconds until I'm home again in my PJs. I don't think I'm all that particular. I don't have some mile long check sheet. While physical attraction is important, personality is higher up on the priority list. I just want a funny, laid back, seemingly responsible yet adventurous guy who isn't a coward. Seems like I'm asking for too much.

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