I sat around a dinner table with five other amazing women on Sunday discussing our current single situations. Oh, let me pre-empt this with the following: I do not plan to use this blog as a place for my diatribes or reasonings on why I'm single, frankly, those blogs irritate me. As we sat there talking about how old we thought 25 was when we were 18 and how we would could never imagine ourselves as those "poor" women. We were so young and brainwashed. Anyway, sitting around listening to my friends' stories got me to think about my own life. I'm single. I have been single for 28 years. I see myself being single for the foreseeable future (read: no legitimate prospects). So, as I've begun to age (I'm 28 now, yikes!) I've started to evaluate interesting patterns in my life that I find highly amusing. These patterns could be the contributors to the singlenss, further exploration and evaluation is needed. One of the most baffling patterns is the unexplainable failure for guys to actually take me out after they've already survived the asking. I've been asked out more times than I've actually gone out. In other words, there is a tendency for guys to ask me out and then never actually take me out. I will now provide examples. I was tempted to make up names, but then figured I don't care and can therefore share real names.
To the best of my knowledge, the first incident took place in 1999. I was 20 years old and home from school for the summer working at the Gap. A cute little senior at Riverton High School named Nate was also working at the Gap this summer. As well as another girl whose name I do not recollect. Both of these kids went to school with Jeanette who probably knows them both and can pass this story on to them. Anyway, I was standing by the register folding clothes. Then Nate was standing there too folding clothes. We started chatting. Then he asked me if I had ever been paint balling. I said no, I hadn't, but had always wanted to because it looks so fun. Then he asked if I wanted to go with him the next day. I immediately said yes. Paint balling was going to be so cool. In fact, I'm pretty sure I started to think about what I would wear. As Nate walked away, I began to wonder if this was a date. It didn't matter, I was going paintballing with a cute high schooler, awesome! Later that night Nate and the other girl were by the dressing rooms folding clothes. She had gotten word of the "date" and was no happy. I had to drop something off over by them. As I'm walking towards them, she asks me, "So, Alisa, how old are you?" I looked at her and said, "20." I had no idea this would be an issue, but it was. Nate looked up with huge eyes and exclaimed, "What? You're 20." I said yes. I guess he didn't know that I was just back from school for the summer. Who knows? Anyway, the next day Nate called me and said that something had come up and he couldn't go paintballing anymore. I don't remember the exact excuse, but it was lame. I was mostly bummed about the paintballing....I've still never been.
New boy Dallas moves into the ward. Friendly guy. As all guys should do, Dallas quickly ascertained the lady situation in the ward by taking every opportunity possible to meet and further interact with the sisters. Myself included. When Dallas learned that I worked in the city, he asked me to lunch. Concrete plans weren't made, but a definite plan to do lunch was made. Well, since there were no actual concrete plans on the day of the lunch "date," I wasn't upset when Dallas ended up bailing (and forgetting) about the plans. We tried to reschedule a couple of times and had a super awkward phone call on the bus once. We never ended up going out. Further evidence that it's tough to take me out.
Please see Dating Advice Tip #1.
This is a two part incident because a few weeks after this Bret (I'm past protecting his name) called me again to say hi. He was getting ready to go out of town for a week but would be back the following weekend and said we should do something. Then he said he'd call. Well, guess who never called? I got a sorry text a few days later and then a "We should go camping sometime." text a few weeks after that. Both elicited no response from me. C'mon, don't be ridiculous.
Maybe three incidents spread out over 8 years aren't a pattern, but there is something here. I know it. I haven't figured it out yet, but I will. Also, please note that I don't consider myself someone who gets stood up, because I'm not. I'm someone that guys can easily ask out but not take out. It's that simple.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
It has recently been brought to my attention on several occasions from different sources that I look like Mandy Moore. As much as I loved her performance in Saved, she's one of those actresses that I couldn't care less about. Speaking of Saved, I think that is one of those movies that I could always watch: I am filled with Christ's love. Although I do give her props for not becoming crazy like others of her generation. Way to stay strong Mandy. Oh, and you were funny on your cameos on Scrubs: That's so funny. Hmmm, maybe I do like Mandy Moore. Nah, I'm still indifferent.
Anyway, besides the matching brown hair cuts and the huge sunglasses, I don't get it. This could be anyone. Your thoughts? I'm not opposed to looking like Mandy Moore, but it just isn't obvious to me. When I was younger I'd get Punky Brewster, but I'm an original and don't get that celebrity look alike thing all that often. So, I wonder if I've somehow transformed into Mandy Moore without realizing it. Does this mean I have to start dating Zach Braff? Hmmm, fine by me.
Come to think of it, maybe I do like Mandy Moore. On Monday night I was at the multi-ward pirate party on Treasure Island and a girl that I've never met or seen before tapped me on the shoulder and said hi and asked how I was doing. I politely answered and inquired after her as well. It was a lovely exchange. Now that I think about it, she knows Mandy Moore and thought I was her.