Tag Archives: Dating

A First for Everything: dAtInG

27 Apr

Sometimes I get tired thinking about Beijing. So I’ve decided to do a little series on my dating life; or lack there of. I’ve decided this stuff is funny, albeit personal and a tad bit superficial, but it is good stuff to share.

A first date is rather intimidating especially if you’ve never been on a date in your life. This was indeed the case for me. I’ve since decided that I don’t particularly like dates all together. There is far too much pressure and expectation. Whats worse is that people tell you to relax!

This is not me, that is not him. But the photo is an excellent depiction of the pain the two of us suffered through.

Like that would actually happen.

Let me tell you a little embarrassing story. There was this fellow in my third-year of college, he still lives in fact. I thought he was awesome, handsome, funny, talented and smart. He still is awesome and all those other things, he’s just not the guy for me you know?

I gave him a call after the encouragement of my older sister. When he answered, I stammered just a little, okay I stammered quite a lot. But finally I quacked out: “Would you like to hang out?”
“Sure!” he said.
“Oh great!” I shouted a little too loudly.

But even though he had said “yes” and I had asked…how on earth would we actually get together. He didn’t make any suggestions. That should have been a sign to me that this was a bad idea.
Scratch that; I had to ask=sign number one.
I suggested we each drive to the theater and meet up there. His reply: his sister needed the car and his mom and dad were going out. That should have been a sign.
He suggested that I drive out about an hour to his place and pick him up. What was I? His big sister? That should have been a sign.
How badly did I want to hang out with this fellow? Enough, apparently, to make a huge fool of myself. Because…
Then my mother (dear soul) suggested that she and my father go “carpet shopping” to drive me down there and pick him up at the same time. This way was better? At the time I thought so, because I agreed! This should have been a sign, sign number four: my parents were driving us.

Our conversation: silence. I’m glad we were in a mall, other wise the quiet would be unbearable. I believe even at one point we started talking about the weather! We watched the movie, about Robin Hood (which was great, but there was more chemistry on-screen then between the two of us) and then walked around in the bookshop near the theater. I remember thinking that this needed to end. Please end!
We were walking down an isle of books about humor (ironically because there was none at that moment) when he answered his phone. Let us pause and shake our heads, I just don’t think that’s polite in any situation. But wait it gets slightly better.
He agreed to hang out later on that day and after he hung up asked when I thought we would be done.
I don’t blame him either, this was a disaster.

It was a huge ordeal and I’ll be honest I felt sorry for him, because then we went to Wendy’s, the four of us. A double date with my parents to Wendy’s. Yes Wendy’s. Don’t worry I ate my meal super fast, because if we all finished quickly, the faster we could leave and this could end. But my parents ate at a normal pace.
I tried sending messages to my dad across the table through mental telepathy: “Let’s jet, hurry up!”
He took my intense looks to mean I was enjoying my meal profusely. “Eat up!” he said.

Oh man.
The poor fellow! What on earth was I thinking? That torture would be the best route to an enjoyable date? Was this even a date? I began to think: Nope.
As we dropped him off in his drive-way I waved a cute good-bye, while he lifted a flat hand and gave me a curt nod of the head.
“Well that was nice,” my mom sighed, “Remember our first date dear?”
I remember closing my eyes and hoping that maybe, just maybe it was all in my head. But in my heart I knew it wasn’t. The saddest thing is that even after all that, I still liked him despite my embarrassment.

Its one of those situations in life that you just have to laugh about after wards out of pure embarrassment.I know that first dates aren’t supposed to be easy, but they’re not supposed to be this horrible either. I think I still turn red thinking about it, whatever it was. If he ever reads this I hope he knows that I felt his pain the entire time.

Check out this website to make sure that he is definitely into you before making the same mistakes as I did:

21 Signs That He Likes You: Smitten: Sex, Love & Life: glamour.com.

Experience is a Teacher

25 Apr

This post really has nothing to do with living in Beijing aside from this fact: You take yourself wherever you go. Read into that what you will.

Let me be extremely and brutally honest with you. Sometimes I pretend to know everything there is to know about life. Wipe that look of shock off your face. You do it too.

Okay, you’re reading this to discover hidden truths? To laugh? To learn? Because I’ll be honest, I’ve no idea what to write, so forgive me if this post is a jumble of sentences strung together lacking flow. I guess my excuse would be that they’re representing my head and what’s going on inside it. Besides nobody thinks in perfect essay format anyways. Am I right or am I right?

Of course I’m right.

I’m going to focus on love, because sometimes people pay more attention and read the entire post if it’s about something deeply personal and reveals a truth about any phenomenon. There are only few people who understand the ones that baffle humanity. Most only pretend to know. I’m in the later half. I pretend to understand where it’s at. Oh I know about them in theory, but in experience? Nope, I’ve got zip. But then so have a lot of people I’m just a person whose willing to admit to you (or whoever reads this) that I am one of those very people.

Breaking it Down

There are four types of love in living.

Storge – affection
Philia – friendship
Agape – Unconditional

I feel storge for my family and I feel philia for my friends. I feel eros for: nobody. I feel agape for my family again. What can I say I love my family in two kinds of love.

The top two and fourth, I think I’ve great experience with: family and friends. In the third category however there is a significant lack. Consider this an expose of a non-existent eros-life that belongs to me.

Romance in my life has been something of an enigma. I know what it means but have yet to know it really well. Am I special because I’m admitting this about myself? Nope. Doubt it, there are so many girls like me, who are having the same experience, they’re just a little shy when it comes to sharing it.

When it comes to romance, sometimes girls (maybe only me) picture this happening as it happens in a movie. Boy meets girl. Girl dislikes boy. Boy does something to show his brawn. Girl likes boy. Boy leaves. Girl chases after boy.


They’re together after an hour and a half. If only life were so simple huh girls? Not so simple. But when I talk with my girlfriends who’ve discovered romance in their lives. Their main advice is to go for it, take a risk.
Awesome, sound (meaning perfect in this instance) advice. I agree wholeheartedly, but I’m also a huge coward when it comes to giving my heart a chance like this. I take risks! I take them all the time! But only when I know that my heart won’t hurt when I take them. The hurt one feels after taking a risk in love is an all-new extreme version of torture and pain.
What it comes down to is this: I’m a big talker/writer and one who encourages others to take risks in love, but do I? Don’t answer that one, its rhetorical. And you are too (big talker). We all are, I mean who knows what on earth we’re doing anyways? Aren’t each of us “waiting” in a way for another path in our lives to magically open and we’ll find the answers to questions that we’ve asked since the dawn of our existence?
This is what you call taking a snowflake and making a huge snowball out of it!
But seriously though. There are no rules, especially when it comes to love; nobody knows the answers. I’m here to admit that I’m the last one to know. Experience is indeed a teacher, but I’m in not-so-blissful ignorance.

But why am I writing this? Many reasons:
1. Slightly annoyed that there is a significant lack of eros in my life. (True)
2. Commiserating with others. (True)
3. Laughing at the joke of eros in my life. (True)
4. Love stories are fun to write about and laugh at. (True/False)

Tune in next time when I divulge the lessons I learned from my first date.

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