Alternative Title: Why I Am Almost Certainly Doomed to Remain Single
Other Alternative Title: Arrange Marriages are Underrated
Other Other Alternative Title: Say Anything...No Really, Anything At All. Just Spit It Out. Whatever Comes To Mind....Okay, Probably Not That
I have been mulling this post over in my head for the past two weeks. Originally I wasn't going to write anything about it because it requires a lot of, frankly, embarrassing honesty on my part. Also, I didn't want to cause potential embarrassment for other parties involved, but since I don't use the full names of anyone from up here, and the people involved pretty much all know everything already, I don't see how that could really be an issue. In the end, though, this blog is supposed to be about the experiences I have while living up here in Canada, and this is kind of a big one, for me.
I've mentioned before the difficulty I have in carrying on conversations when I am ill at ease in social situations. If I get at all nervous, my brain shuts down and I can't even form a sentence, let alone be witty and spontaneous in what I say. If I'm in the situation long enough, I eventually regain my powers of speech, but still have difficulty getting into a natural flow of discourse with other people. I tend to sound like I'm interrogating the person I'm trying to talk to. This is particularly noticeable when I try to talk to guys. I'm not quite sure when it began, but I do know that it has gotten worse in recent years. I can't talk to boys. Or rather, I can't talk to single, cute boys whom I may be potentially interested in.
I am also woefully inexperienced in dating. Since I'm being candid here, and since I think most people know this about me, I'll admit - I don't date. Not "I don't date often" or "I used to date a lot, but it's tapered off in recent years." I don't date. I don't get asked out on dates, and I don't ask guys out on dates. Both of these would require me to have some sort of conversation with guys in order to lead up to an invitation to dinner, or whatever, and I get brain lock, remember? My first date was when I was 17, and my boss's little brother asked me to go ice skating. I didn't know how to ice skate, and he'd played little league hockey, or whatever it's called. I spent the night inching my way around the rink (and managing to have the MOST spectacular fall in the history of people falling at ice rinks), while he spent the night speed skating in circles around everyone else. There was no second date.
My next date came when I was 18. It was a group date set up by my roommates and me wherein we asked an entire apartment of guys out and everyone went bowling and for ice cream. It was fun, but none of us were really sure who was on a date with whom, except for Dan and Becky, who got married four months later.
And that was it. My entire dating history, in two short paragraphs. Oh, there were other guys that I hung out with whom I could talk to just fine, guys I had crushes on I could hardly talk to, and guys who were my buddies and usually married, but never any more dates.
Until two weeks ago.
See, they do Preference, a.k.a. Sadie Hawkins, as one of the activities for the YSA up here. I had not originally planned to go, but my friends M. and E. told me about a month beforehand we were going to do a group date, so I had to think of who I'd like to ask.
I'll be honest, I immediately had a guy in mind, N. He'd landed on my radar at Institute as one of the (very) few older guys who still went and wasn't creepy. I also though he was kinda cute, which is no bad thing. But it had been months since he'd come to any of the activities, and I was pretty sure he wouldn't remember me if I randomly called him up out of the blue. M. tried to work it so there were opportunities for get togethers beforehand, but that only works if the guy shows up. Finally, with time running out and me having no idea who else I would ask, I turned to the medium of communication that works best for me - writing.
I wrote this forever long message re-introducing myself and detailing why it would be a good idea for him to accept my Preference invitation, then sent it to him over Facebook. And he accepted! I was overjoyed at having successfully asking a guy out...for about five minutes. Then the panic set in.
Because, you know, it was going to be an actual date. With a boy. An actual date with a cute boy that I was interested in getting to know better because I didn't really know him at all. And I was nervous.
Very, very nervous.
And I think it showed.
The date itself, from an overall perspective, was fun. We made pizzas, we went mini-golfing at the world's loudest mini-golf course, we had dessert at Denny's. We never actually made it to the official Preference dance, which was a bit of a bummer because I had my amazing red shoes and the cutest dress to go with them and I was really excited for them, but anyway, the date was fun. But it was fun because of everyone else who was there.
L. and M. in particular are very gregarious and good at keeping conversations going, and their dates B. and B. (they had the same name, it was great fun) also have mad conversing skillz. It really fell to them to keep things going because I suck at small talk and N? Also sucks at small talk - by his own admission, may I add. It was a night of stop and start conversation, a sample of which I have reproduced below:
[Driving to pick up L's date, and my iPod is playing in the background]
N: "So what's this we're listening to?"
Me: "Um, it's my Shreducation playlist."
N:"Your what?"
Me: "Shreducation. It's a bunch of classic rock songs that have awesome guitar parts in them."
N: "Oh. Cool."
[Cue crickets, and SCENE]
[Later, while waiting in the car while L. gets B. AC/DC's "Back in Black" is playing quietly in the background.]
N: "So you're like, into hard rock."
Me: "Well, I like rock music in general. My momma is a classic rocker, so I grew up listening to a lot of this. What kind of music are you into?"
N: "Mostly alternative. I kind of like a bit of everything."
Me: "Yeah, I totally get that. The only thing that I really don't like is rap and hip hop. I think I have, like, three rap songs I like."
N: "Yeah, I'm not a fan of rap either."
Me: "That was one thing I liked about moving up here - 90% of the music on the radio in California is rap or hip hop. Here they play a variety of songs and styles."
[Cue crickets, and SCENE]
[While waiting in line to start mini-golfing, everyone else is ahead of us, and while the loud music drowns most things out, it's becoming more and more uncomfortable to not say anything. I get the near-uncontrollable urge to laugh, and have a somewhat manic expression on my face, I imagine.]
N: "Loud music, hey?"
Me: "Yeah. And I was just reflecting on how much I suck at small talk."
N: "It's okay, I suck at it too."
Me: "Well this should be fun..."
[Crickets are drowned out by loud music, but SCENE]
Seriously, that was how our conversations went almost the entire night. Not the long, winding, tangential discussions that I am so good at with, like, my close friends and siblings. Stilted, awkward, both of us casting around for things to say before eventually giving up the fight. The one "good" conversation that came out of the evening was the one topic that I'd actively tried to avoid mentioning before, because I tend to get weird looks. Yup, once again, zombie-centered conversation ruled the day. Too bad it wasn't until the near tail-end of the date that they were brought up; it might have provided a springboard of conversational topics to last the night. Or not, but now I will never know.
So there you have it. My third "real date" ever. Not a resounding success, but it wasn't an epic failure, either. It was an experience. It has brought to my attention just how important it is that I be able to talk to a guy, to carry on a conversation that doesn't rely on the participation of six other people to keep it going. This is something I am going to have to work on.
This may take a while.
Good thing my parents have Cameron to dote on...
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