Blind Blind Dates

7/22/2013 The Blue Stocking 4 Comments

I don’t get set up on blind dates. Well, at least not often (if you've read this blog for a while, that fact may not shock you..). My last blind date was courtesy of my high school best friend. He wanted to marry me off to one of his missionary companions. It was an ambitious goal. The date turned out to be a dinner with said best friend and his wife.


After dinner, my best friend tried to turn an already uncomfortable two hours into five by suggesting froyo and a movie. I yawned for effect and sadly turned that mess of a night down. After all I had class at 9 a.m. and it was already 8 p.m.

Nailed it with that excuse...

My date then drove me home and asked if he could come inside. At this point I felt like I had already hit my quota for rejections for the night. So he followed me into my living room and we came upon all of my roommates surrounding our fish tank singing Part of Your World.
He left rather quickly after that.

So that typifies my experiences with blind dates.

And now onto the point of the post, last Sunday I met a girl in my ward and we had a really fun yet short conversation. Wednesday I got a call from a strange number and in my attempt to ignore it, I accidentally answered (still haven’t figured out my blasted iphone). It turned out to be this girl asking if I would go on a date with her friend. The conversation in its entirety was hilarious. By the end we were both laughing and frankly acknowledge that this was a bizarre set up. 

She gave me the fellow's name and he's cute. Like really cute. Like the kind of cute that makes you question how cute you are and if you will be cute enough to hold up.

I don't know why confidence dwindles on the precipice of action. It’s rather annoying. Well it turns the date was supposed to be last weekend, but alas I was already scheduled for a trip home so now I obsessively watch my black screen waiting to see if he gives me a second chance. With my luck I won’t be able to figure out how to answer my blasted phone if the time comes.

C'est la vie,

The Bluestocking

Nothing is so unattractive as an insecure man.

7/17/2013 The Lady 2 Comments

Things with Awkward Tinder Man got worse before they could get better. His attempts to call became more persistent, and my excuses for not answering began to be more elaborate. "Sorry I've been helping my mom with work around the house." "I was asleep." And my personal favorite, "Well, even if I had answered I probably wouldn't have understood most of your jokes because I am sort of hard of hearing." To which he replied, "Oh, I'm sorry...my mom had a brain disease..." What the?! First of all, please get the hint. Second, I am truly sorry about your mom. Third, how is that related?

Finally, after a week or more of being unfailingly "unsociable and taciturn" did Awkward Tinder Man ask me if I wanted him to stop texting me. It was all I could do to not quickly reply, "Yes, PLEASE!" I let him down easily and now [hallelujah!] I have not heard from him in several days. Why is it harder to be honest with guys you are not interested in at all than it is to break up with guys that you actually had been interested in? And how do all the emotionally and psychologically traumatized men find me? I feel as though I am causing severe damage every time I have to tell them I'm not interested. I need to "get thee [myself] to a nunnery!"

Oh, and by the way, thank you, readers, for reminding me that I needed to wrap up the story of the "original" Tinder Man. Shortly before I jumped the country, I made the mistake [was it really a mistake?] of telling Tinder Man that I was slightly disappointed that I had met him only a few short days before I left Provo for good because I had enjoyed getting to know him. Then he sent me a text about how we had moved too quickly and that I should go on with my life and "make it a good one". I actually had to scroll back in our text conversation to make sure that I hadn't accidentally proposed marriage before he sent me this text. Nope. Was what I said sincerely that forward? Needless to say, that put a quick end to things, and that was the short stint of the Tinder Man.

Con Amor,
The Lady

"His being illiterate and coarse need not disturb us"

7/16/2013 The Blue Stocking 7 Comments

I am currently a college graduate and as such, very confused. I have moved and gotten a grown up job and now I hardly know what to do with myself. For the past two months I have been going to a singles ward whose male body has yet to register my existence and that does not sit well with me.

The only real conversation (real meaning it lasted more than 5 minutes) I’ve had with a guy turned out to be the most insulting interaction I’ve ever been a part of.

I was at a going away party for a friend, when a rather popular guy from my ward began to follow me about striking up random conversations. I went to the cookies, he went to the cookies. I got a chip he was next to the dip. I was of course flattered, but that did not last long.

He soon followed me into the living room, introduced himself, and asked if I was in the ward. I told him I was and that began a 10 minute debate on the impossible fact that I had ever attended his ward. He called in random strangers quizzing them on my existence. I chalked this dalliance up to his simple attempts to talk to a girl. At least I was being flirted with right?

Then he attacked my very soul. (you get that I’m overly dramatic right?). Let me explain, I am first and foremost a reader. It’s what I do, it’s who I am. As such, I am also a writer. You need to understand these facts in order to get why I was so upset.

Now onto the part where said boy befuddles me:

He asked me if I liked to read. I of course gushed about my love of literature. His response was to throw his voice up three octaves into valley girl range and exclaim “you look like the type of girl who only reads books like The Hunger Games and Twilight.”

I was shocked. Shocked! I was an English major. I had spent 4 years of my life devoted to literature and he tried to sum me up with teen lit. FINE, I admit I read teen lit BUT I've spent far too many years living between pages of some of the worlds greatest novels to be summed up by silly reads, so have a little respect sir. 

I assured him that I had read more than The Hunger Games and went on to name my favorite authors. He asked if I liked to write. I said yes and mentioned that I blogged. He responded with “Ha ha ha does anyone even read your blog!?”

I couldn’t speak. My hate was palpable. 

He continued on laughing and asking if I had any readership at all. I said I did and he demanded numbers, shocked at the idea anyone would read about my life. He was almost in a giggling fit when he once again began pulling people from around the room into our conversation asking them if they had heard about my blog. He didn’t catch on that this did not sit well with me. He asked for my blog address so he could review it for himself. I wait with baited breath for his feedback...

I could go on with our conversation, but for 30 minutes it followed this basic format:

1. He asks me a question
2. I answer
3. He makes fun of me
4. I respond with shocked sarcasm thinly veiled with laughter.

At one point my friend walk by and told him he was doing a terrible job at flirting. That cheered me up significantly and he seemed to think it was funny as well. 

I think the saddest thing about the night was not the fact he made me out to be an illiterate fool, but that I was shocked to partake in a conversation that was based on my life. For the most part, talking to guys can become a 65/35 situation. Meaning they talk about themselves 65% of the time and you get roughly 35%. These stats don’t relate to most guys, but they can be sadly accurate. So yeah, it was nice to be the focus of a conversation even as ill conceived as it was. 

In the days that have followed that conversation, I've tried to imagine the possible good outcomes that could come from my uncomfortable night. After all wasn't Elizabeth slighted by the very man who swept her off her feet just months later!? So he could rightly be my Mr. Darcy, though I don't see a strong possibility of him winning back my favor by saving my younger sister from certain ruin by marrying her off to my ex-boyfriend, but I have been proven wrong in the past. 

I'll keep you updated.


In attempt to end this post on a positive note, I will mention another fellow who has become the object of my creeper lovin. He's 6'2, wears fitted grey suits, and is pre-law. Heaven help me.





-The Bluestocking

A spot of trouble.

7/04/2013 The Lady 8 Comments

Dear Readers,