Facebox....Facebook...Face something

I did it. I finally signed onto Facebook. How long have my friends been pressuring me to join? Well, from the moment facebook took over the world with it's intriguing popularity, that's when. But I stood strong, my iron will firmly planted. No.

That is, until I decided it would just be a lot more easier to see my friends pictures from their travels, from their weddings, from their what-have-yous, if I just joined the bloody network. So there I am, the newest kid on the block. And I have to admit two things:

1. I can see how people are addicted to facebook, and I now have spent hours looking at other's profiles. I giggle and sigh and wistfully think about these people, some of whom are on the other side of the world, some of whom I haven't seen for a few years.

2. I need to have a flippin' tutorial in facebook because I am confused and don't get all this stuff that you can send people, and that people can send you. I look at my page and think WHAT IS THIS???? And it's not that I think "what is this" with curiosity and glee, I think it with annoyance and frustration. Because what the bloody hell is a twisted Christmas carol?? (If that is what it's called). And then I'm not sure if I even want to click on it to find out.

I've only been on it for a couple weeks now. Maybe even not that long. But it's already wearing on me. Both my brother and sister are on facebook, which is fun cause then I can see Mike's pictures of Olivia anytime, and I can send my sister smart remarks a la little sister style. But I think that what irks me is that it my sister makes attempts at conversations with me over facebook -- when really, if she wants to talk to me, then just call me!!!! I think I am from the wrong generation. All these super speedy technologically enhanced forms of communication is just too much for me. I like my sister calling me to tell me something, trivial or personal, joking or serious. (While I am at it, I like going into the bank to the teller rather than online banking or using the atm...see?? Wrong generation.)

I just don't know about this facebook business. Do I really want to connect with people who I went to elementary and high school with? No....because if I did, I would have tracked them down in the past and maintained a relationship. I would like to think the same thing back from their standpoint too. Earlier this year, my brother told me that one of my friends from high school had contacted him on facebook, and asked why I wasn't on facebook, and could she have my email? He said he'd give me hers. So he did. I didn't really want to email her. There was a reason I was not her friend anymore. But then the guilt washed over me, and I thought I'd just drop her a quick hello. And what happened? She didn't reply to me for about a month, and when she finally did, her entire email was pretty much a brag bag about what she's got. What did I do? Hit delete. Guess who is not invited to be my friend on facebook.

So....I begrudgingly have a facebook account so I can see Sophie and Emily's pictures. Let's not lie here. That's pretty much the biggest reason. And now I must rely on my own character to not feel guilty for declining invites to be other people's facebook friend when I really don't want to, because a little part of me feels it's mean to say "no, I don't want to be your friend...."

The unexpected

I made a secret plan when I moved. And that plan was to actually go on dates. To be nice to guys I meet, which would result in them asking me out.

Ok. Well it wasn't really a secret plan. I jokingly told my friends of this plan. Included was also speed dating, which I have yet to venture to. Did you notice that I just said 'which I have yet to venture to'? Which means....(Insert the Star Wars theme music -- that's the tune I sing when I am excited about telling something or showing something and I want that person to feel anticipation. Yes. I'm an 80s kid.) I went on a date!! In the life and times of Melissa, this is pretty big news, I assure you.

I met Mr. Date out at the bar. Which, in my books, is not always the best place to meet people. Why? Well because of a few things:
1. Chances are I was drinking and my judgement was impaired
2. Chances are if a guy is trying to pick me up when he's drunk, he wants one thing and that's about it
3. And well, bars are like meat markets. And that's just kind of gross.

But alas. I waived aside my usual wall of ice and gave this guy my number after he had made me laugh many times. I didn't expect him to call me. But then Tuesday night rolled around and he did. Actually, he got my voicemail, and then we played a bit of phone tag for a while. Once we actually got on the phone, talking to him was pretty easy. I agreed to go out with him for dinner on the following Monday. We didn't really make a plan of where and what, just when. A bit of flirty text messaging ensued, and voila! I was anxious for Monday to roll around! I was also anxious because I could not remember what he looked like, just that he was tall, broad and had a fair complexion. His facial features? Not a clue. Curse the gin I drank that night!

I feel I must interrupt myself here. Seeing as I just got my cell phone a couple months ago, flirting by text message was weird for me. True, I have some experience with flirty convo's over msn...but on my phone...and my texting skills are horrendous...well, it made me laugh more than I should have, and revel over this new delightful form of flirting.

Anywho back to the story. Monday night.

I am impatient by nature. I try to work through it sometimes and ease myself back to patience. It does not always work. Also, I am a fan of set plans. So true, I willing made unspecific plans for Monday, but it was driving me crazy waiting for him to call me after work to make the real plan. At about 7pm, he called (which is a reasonable time, I know this), and we agreed that he'd come and pick me up in about half an hour.

Interrupt again. As I agreed to him picking me up, all I could hear in my head was my Grandma's voice saying that's not safe!! I should have said I would meet him somewhere. What if he was an axe murdered and now I had given myself a hard escape plan!!! Foolish girl, this is the big city!!!! BEWARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

He didn't get to my apartment until 8. My patience was wearing. There was nothing I wanted to watch on tv. I was already ready. So I pet the cat and flicked the stations. Tick tock tick tock, where the heck was he??? Ahhh...the phone rings. He's lost. Ha!!! Who is the fool now?? Just kidding. He finally gets to my apartment. I meet him out front, and the snotty saucy side of me arches her back.

He's driving an old Mazda with a severely cracked windshield. There really is nothing wrong with an old car, let's get real. I was judging poorly. Well, I was judging more over the windshield than the car itself. Hello!! Cracked windshield going into winter? It's going to crack even more!! Not very safe!!!!!!!!! And not very nice of me. I got into his car. Awkward hello. But then the awkwardness faded away and we started to chat. A quick evaluation of his casual attire, I suggested that we just go to the pub for a pint and some pub grub. He seemed pretty game for this.

In all sincerity, the evening was pretty good. We talked and laughed a lot. Lucky for me (and him) he's quite chatty, so when the conversation came to a lull, he was quick to think of something else (I usually am not). He was a nice guy. A perfect gentleman.

Yet....

I didn't feel the 'thing'. I think he'd be a really fun friend, but that's about it. If I had indeed felt the 'thing', it would have been a perfect date! But what can you do? You can't really make yourself like someone just because they are nice. Hmmm...

I'm off to a good start though!!! Next up...speed dating!!!!!!! Just kidding.