under a jumbo orange ice scraper.
So, last night I got all dressed up in some JLo high heels, valleted my Hyundai, and stood at a round plastic white table under a heat lamp waiting for my blind date. I can't tell you how excited I was for this date. I called him up on Wednesday to see a Daveed gig on Thursday. He was on call, so we made it Saturday dinner instead. Dinner. How nice. A Saturday night date. How nice. So, I went shopping and bought makeup, and round-brushed my hair dry. (I despise the blow-out process). The heels are 4-inch, people. Tall times. Excited girl.
When you're in the middle of the blind date, it's not as exciting as the anticipation of it. It's kind of like an interview: yes or no, someone you've never met before whom you will likely not see again, and this lack of investment in one another makes it a little bit of a bummer. You long for someone you know better when it's over. I will say that I am blogging today because he asked me about my writing a lot, a turn where I most certainly would have kept straight. So that's good.