I Need A Boyfriend

Warning: This post will be void of all political correctness or sensitivity for the sake of brevity.

Today at church I was asked on a date. Great, right? WRONG. The guy who asked me out was mentally retarded. The conversation went something like this:

Him: What your name?

Me: Courtney

Him: Where you from?

Me: I grew up in California, but I just moved back from Utah.

Him: How old are you?

Me: 22

-Interlude where I talk with my friends and eat the refreshments for a while. Meanwhile I notice a few times that this guy is staring at me head on the whole time without saying a word. I don't know why, but you can always tell right before a guy asks you out, and even though I wasn't sure if he ever dated, something inside me just new he was about to ask and my stomach dropped. Finally after about 5 minutes:

Him: Are you single?

Me: Ya

Him: You wanna go on a date?

Me: m-m-may. . . be

MAYBE??? Why didn't I just say no? I'm usually a brutally honest person. Contrary to popular opinion in the minds of most women it is actually more humane and more kind to just tell a guy no if you are not interested. It hurts, but it saves him all the pain of chasing you later and that's how I like to do it.

Why did I say maybe? Well, there were a bunch of other people sitting at the table with us and I didn't want him to feel embarrassed for being rejected right in front of a bunch of people.

Anyways, he got my number and promised to call me Tuesday to see what day would work best for me after me telling him that I wasn't sure about my schedule. When he calls I'll tell him I changed my mind and I'm not interested, so hopefully that will be the end of it.

Funny story: Right after he asked me out, he went over to another girl in another group and asked her out too. However, her boyfriend, who was standing right next to her, politely refused for her.

I should have just told him I had a boyfriend. Sometimes I hate this OCD I have about being honest. It gets me into situations like this. If I actually had a boyfriend, this wouldn't be a problem.

Past My Prime

I just moved back in with my parents and started going to the single's ward here. From what I remember from the last time I tried the single's ward a couple of summers ago pretty much everyone there seemed to be in their mid forties (at least to an 18 year old it seemed that way.)

There were however, some fairly normal people the last time I went to the single's ward. They were just in town for the summer and looking for a fling. Some friends and I started talking to these 21-22 year old guys and seemed to get along pretty well for a while, until they asked us how old we were. When we told them we were 18 (which we were at the time) the reply was, "Oh, really? Wow. (pause) Well, hey, I just remembered that I have to be home for something right now, so... bye." And they left immediately.

On the other hand once your 21st birthday hits and people find out, the first question is where you are going on your mission. When you tell them you're not going on a mission right now they ask you when you are getting married. When you tell them you're single, the reply is, "Ohh. . . well then what ARE you doing?" with a look like they just found out you are an ex-convict. Now, if you say you are working on your master's or joining the peace corps to save orphans or something like that the look will fade a little bit from shock and horror to a look of mild relief. They will then reply in a non-intentionally patronizing tone, "Oh that's great! Good for you!" like they are happy you joined AA to get help for your problems and flash their diamond engagement ring as they wave goodbye.

And that's only at 21. I'm 22 now, which is absolutely beyond redemption. So you're in your prime for 2 years. Nineteen and twenty. After that, you're hopeless. Is it just me or does that seem like a little too short a period of time? Too bad I spent that whole time dating a guy who eventually dumped me because he thought I was too fat.

Maybe I can "do something good with my life" by giving motivational speeches to teenage girls with low self-esteem about how inner beauty is more important and tell them all that they will find a guy who feels that way too someday. Sure there's not a lot of money in that sort of career, but at the end of those sort of conferences they almost always feed you cake.

I think I'm getting old

To quote a smart little girl, today is mah birthday. I should be excited, or at the very least, mildly amused, but I can't get used to the idea that my next exciting birthday will be my 30th, the day my youth dies. 22 isn't old by any means, unless you happen to be Mormon like me. In Mormon years, I'm past old maid, and am slowly creeping into the territory covered by the last knight in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

This is actually me, early mornings sans concealer.

Don't get me wrong, there's a lot of perks that come with growing older. Senior citizen discounts, you can wear sparkly sweaters, bad behavior is passed off as eccentric rather than just crazy, plus I don't have to give a crap about my social life as it relates to members of the opposite sex. That's actually the reason why I'm still single today; I don't give the men in my life enough credit. Coco and I were discussing reasons food is better than men, and we came up with a pretty hefty list. For simplicities sake, here's an abbreviated version:

1. Food never forgets your birthday.

2. A delicious brownie is more warming than any hug.

3. I've never been dumped by a sandwich (if it ever happens though, I'm throwing in the towel for life).

4. A meal always follows through (get it, its a poop joke).

5. A cake never gives you the stink eye while you're eating it.

I think I just died a little... on the inside.

Completely Uninteresting

So, I have been thinking of something that I could write for a new post. . .

    

    something witty. . .

        something clever. . .

             something funny. . .

                   something cute. . .

                         something interesting. . .

But nothing comes to mind.  I'm just completely uninteresting.  

That's wh. . .    HEY!  WAKE UP!  I'm not THAT boring!  

Or maybe I am. When I pull books out at work that genuinely interest me, my co-workers ask me who assigned me to read them. 

I guess that's why I'm still single.