What day was my date again?

What I am writing I consider to be one of my most embarrassing moments ever. This occurred back in February I believe. One of the few times in my life I have had a second date happened to be that night, or "a" night really. Maybe I was just so in shock that I got a second date that my mind was not in the right place. Anyway, as the story goes, I get myself ready, and well that really goes without saying as I prefer to look as presentable as I can when I go on a date. I show up at this girl's door, and after a bit she finally opens the door. All was not well. I noticed that she was not dressed for going on a date, rather the attire she was wearing was definitely more suited for sleeping. "Why are you wearing pajamas?" I said to myself. "What are you doing here?" she said to me audibly. Naturally I responded that I was here for the date, as I had assumed we would be going out that night. Well she then proceeded to tell me that the date was not until the following night. At that moment, every single idiot alarm in my body went off, my face probably turned red. She graciously readied herself and we went out anyway. End of story: we went on one more date after that, then an abrupt end. And I wonder why I am still single.

The Game (A sports allegory)

Way back when I was 16, I was drafted into the NDL (National Dating League). I was a rookie, in fact I didn't even play at all my first year. My second year wasn't much better as far as playing time goes. Most players in the NDL play a few years, get their bumps and bruises, and eventually retire at a reasonable age. A select few choose to retire long before their time, and yet others choose to play way past their prime. After several year of playing the game, after my share of broken legs and concussions, after becoming a seasoned veteran, I find myself somehow still playing, and although I am past retirement age, I cannot retire. I am running out of breath from being on the field so long. I really need to call a timeout to catch my breath.

My trip to Las Vegas

I am not totally sure what to write. Okay so my reason for going to Vegas was to go to a music/food festival. I had little idea what I was in for when I went. It was kind of like going on a blind date, and when you see your date for the first time, you think to yourself "what did I get myself into?", and then almost simultaneously vomiting. One of the things that I had failed to anticipate was the volume of people attending the event. I probably could have effectively crowd-surfed from one end of the park to the other. Crowd-surfing is another subject all together. Secondly, there were plenty enough smokers to go around. I can't stand cigarette smoke, and can find absolutely no satisfaction that anyone could get out of smoking. So I felt like a secondhand chain-smoker while I was there. NASTY STUFF!! On top of that, people were throwing water bottles and frisbees around. I even saw one guy leave with a bloody head. I am thankful nothing happened to me! If i knew that would be the case I would have worn my chain mail. (I don't really own any, but for humourous purposes let's pretend I do.) So finally Lifehouse comes on, and that was cool, but I was glad to get out of there. That is my trip in a small snippet aside from riding in a car and fun stuff like that. We went to this interesting Italian place which I will discuss in my next blog. Enjoy!!

The house of sticks

I assume it is safe to say that most of us have heard the story of the three little pigs. I will liken myself to one of those foolish pigs who unwisely built his house out of sticks. As the story goes, I found a nice place to build a house, and so I started to build. I was under the false impression that somehow sticks would be a good choice for my house. When my house was funished, I looked at it and said "this is a pretty nice house for sure." I was quite happy with it, and took no more thought of it. I was happy with were I was living. After a short while, it was brought to my attention that certain problems in the building materials were exposed. Again, in my thoughtlessness gave little heed to the warnings. In one swift turn of events, my house came crashing down, and I was left with little more than a pile of broken sticks. Lesson learned: I should have known all along to use bricks instead of sticks. I just hope I can rebuild on the same site with the much stronger material.

"miss"communication

If there were money be made in the "not being able to communicate well" field, I would be the next Warren Bufett. I would consider my communication skills somewhere between a rock and a snail. I find it amazing that after 31 years on this earth I haven't quite gotten the hang of it. I will admit that sometimes, to use a comparison to art. communication is like a Van Gogh, and other times like a Picasso. Silence is golden, but silence can also be like a rusty nail. If you step on it, you need a tetnus shot. Bad communication is like gingivitus, it can make anything that comes out of your mouth stink. The phase goes: it is better to keep your mouth shut, and have people think you a fool than to open it and remove all doubt. But is it also better to be a fool than mute? There is some food for thought. Experience has led me to believe this may at least be somewhat true.

Cruise Blues

The honest truth is I've been itching to go on a cruise this year. I've been doing some checking around and there are good deals out there. The only catch is 4 people have to be in a room. If you have ever been on a cruise, you know that the rooms are not much bigger than a normal sized bedroom would be. That is not a big deal only because the time spent in your cabin on a cruise is minimal. The bulk of the time is spent sleeping anyway, so who cares? I have certain principles that guide my decisions, and overpaying for things is just something that I will rarely, if ever do. It turns out that the tax to go on a cruise is over 30 percent. Where is the justification in that?

Tuition Tantrem

I recently started a semester of college at the University of Utah. I normally have four classes each semester, but as it turns out, I only have one class. It is reasonable to assume that only having one class would significantly reduce the tuition cost. I fell victim to this line of thinking. As it turns out, the cost of one three credit class at the University of Utah is close to 1,200 dollars. If there were ever an opposite of Robin Hood, this is it. Robbing from the poor to give to the rich isn't exactly what I would call "being the hero". This is not where the terror ends. The textbook that I purchased for this one class sold for a whopping 185 dollars! Sometimes I feel like I am being kicked while I am down. Sure they no longer charge tax on textbooks, but the real victory would come in a lowering of the cost of textbooks. If there ever was a way to make a grown man cry, this is it.

The First Date

First dates are the best. The date allows two people to initially get to know each other while hopefully have fun that the same time. I have been on more first dates than any man should have to bear. They say you never get a second chance to make a first impression. This is the guy's one and only chance to prove to the woman that he isn't a complete idiot or a psycho. Sometimes a guy can get so caught up in not trying to be an idiot that he completely destroys the very edifice he is trying to construct. At the very same time as his image goes to who knows where, his chances of getting a second date suddenly grow wings and fly off to neverland as well. Unfortunately we live in a society where certain feelings and desires are not always black and white. If a guy passes through the gauntlet with minimal or no damage, he must then somehow decipher by some code known only to women if she desires a second date. This generally occurs at the end of a date, which in an of itself can be a very awkward situation. There are three possible endings for a date, and I have experienced all three. First, and probably most common is the hug. This is a potentially good sign since the girl is in essence saying "well you didn't turn me off enough to not want to be withing hugging distance of you." The second is saying goodnight and just walking away. This is usually not a good sign. The third is the handshake. The funny thing about the handshake, and this is probably the most awkward way to end a date, is that is makes the date seem more of a business deal than anything else. For a habitual dater like myself, dating can sometimes feel like "business as usual."

The first blog!

This is my first attempt at blogging. The purpose of this blog is to be of a humurous nature. I will be posting funny stories from my life or my comical views on certain aspects of life. Right now I cannot be certain of how often I will write, but be sure to check back now and then!