I am generally very carefully about not putting truly personal things in this lovely little blog. Like dating and any drama relating to said activity… Why, you ask? Well, frankly, because it isn’t any of your damn business!
I kid, I kid!
That is not really the reason.
Seriously, don’t be mad… Let’s hug it out.
There are really two reasons, the first being the most prevalent and that is there isn’t anything to tell. The second reason is, metaphorically speaking… I am the single mother and you are all my babies. I am not trying to bring a lot of random ass men in and out of your life. I love you too much to be a contributory factor to hundreds if not thousands of dollars of therapy bills when you are all grown up…
I have thought about starting another completely private and anonymous blog that allows me to speak freely of all my gory sexipades… but then, I remember that I don’t have gory sexipades and I am pretty sure nobody wants to have to access another site to read Dear Walmart letters or hear about how I cleaned the dust out of my vent covers last night. I really did… line by line with a 409’ed q-tip and I don’t want to sound crazy, but my lungs feel better today… but I digress.
So anyway, I have a date tomorrow. The best kind of date too… a lunch one and lunch ones come with a timer. There is no awkward “Well, what do you want to do after dinner…” discussion and no question in your head about if you lean in for a quick hug or give the head (slightly cocked to the side) grateful nod… A lunch date ends in an hour and with a good firm handshake.
Don’t get all excited though, my track record of first dates would indicate that there is about a 98.7% chance of not getting asked on a second… maybe I should consider ditching the “good firm handshake”…
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