Welcome

I have fallen down a rabbit hole. 

A big, dark, twisty, rabbit hole.

A rabbit hole called dating.

This blog is dedicated to the assured misadventures and lessons learned along the way. All names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Last night was the leap into the rabbit hole. I decided that I was going to go a single mingle at a local restaurant. After angsting over what to wear, and many a pep talk that centered around "God helps those who help themselves" I walked into said establishment and notice two things. 

First thing I do is go up to the bar and order a chardonnay, because, well, if I'm doing this, I'm doing this with some wine. While I'm waiting, I see cute!boy. Oh, was cute!boy ever so cute. Not quite my type, but then again, not so far off either. After all, he is cute!boy. It was then my mission to talk to cute!boy.

This wasn't easy.

Apparently lots of women thought cute!boy was cute.  By the time I made my way over to that table after having to shake hands with lots of people that weren't cute!boy, there were already a few women there chatting him up. A sip of wine and one...two...three...go!

Turns out, I have no idea how to make conversation. So I ask the stupid questions about jobs and school and hometowns. Cute!Boy, however, isn't interested. So much so that he doesn't even finish his beer, says he has to pee, leaves, gets another beer, and talks to a leggy blonde. Another lady comments on how I look really nervous. Awesome.

It was around this time that I had a bug kamikaze into my chardonnay. Rest assured, Alanis was right there in my head, singing about the irony of it all.

New glass of Chardonnay in hand, and I sit around and pathetically make more small talk about current events. Eventually I decided that I need to move along. 

Enter conversation!boy. Conversation!boy and I actually talked for a good twenty minutes. Maybe small talk was easier with him because he wasn't cute!boy? Anyway, we talked about our careers (he has a job that I didn't know was a real job), where we were from (both nationally and internationally), and what summers are like in various US locales. No sparks, but, yaknow, good small talk practice I guess.

So, here we go... the tumble has started, let's see where I wind up.

- Alice