It feels kind of like a date, the type of date that results from friends setting you up or from whoring yourself on an online dating site. You get dressed up, which is fun if you don’t exist outside jeans very often, and a little nerve-wracking too, especially when you try to zip up a skirt or slacks you never usually wear and are rudely faced with the results of that last 1 lb bag-in-one-weekend of Peanut Butter M&Ms. At the same time, you tell yourself not to get your hopes up, it’s just a first date and nothing will come from it probably and remember the last guy Sharon set you up with* and besides, you’re saving yourself for George Clooney.
This first post feels just like that. Except it’s all fluid in a postmodern-y kind of way. See, the reader could be the mysterious date and I’m sitting here with spinach in my metaphorical teeth and too many M&Ms on my hips, BUT it could also be that the reader has innocently stumbled into this space OR been set up to read this by a friend and I’m the one who swears that really, the restraining order was nothing, she blew it way out of proportion and she’s never had a sense of humor at all. Or the reader could actually be George Clooney, in which case he should call me.
There, it’s done…first post out of the way and we’re all still standing. Treat yourself to some Peanut Butter M&Ms.
*"I know this guy who is just perfect for you. Well, perfect anyway, he’s a perfect guy, and he just happens to be single at the moment, quite a coincidence really, and that whole thing about his ex-wife and the restraining order was nothing, she blew it way out of proportion and she’s never had a sense of humor at all and you have so much in common. He reads lots of books too!"