Friday, October 23, 2009

Mom, Dancing, and My Date With Hortence.

I love my mother.

She always subtly finds ways to give me life lessons, after I've learned my lesson. Not really in an "I told you so" kind of way, but more in a "maybe next time you won't feel so stupid if you do this [insert better way of acting than I did]".  They're endearing. Lately, and by "lately" I mean "since I got to college", she's been concerned for my love life. She usually finds a way to subtly, as usual, encourage me to go on dates, be dating, be loving, or even be lusting after someone of the male persuasion. See, Lorie Collins was a hippie back the day. Colorado cabins, the earth between her toes, love everyone, eat cans of Cambell's soup every day, never shower kind of hippie.

My recent encounter with her she took it upon herself to say, "Sadie, sometimes you just need to go dancing". Katie was with me and she took it literally. Then proceeded to laugh. Reason being, if I ever go "out" you can bet that I won't be the one on the dance floor. Rather, I'm playing pool. Or mingling. Or making frequent trips to the bathroom to pass the time until the song is over and my friends reconvene. So for my mother to advise that I "go dancing" is humorous to anyone who knows me.

But I took it metaphorically. So, it's my senior year. What do I have to lose? I decided to start dipping my toes in the wide world of "dancing". For those of you not catching my flow, I've taken it upon myself to go on any dates that are being thrown my way. Unless I feel immoral by going or like I'll be date raped by the end of the night. Forget it.

I'll just touch on one particular date that I felt like should be on MTV. Long story semi-short: this boy, we'll call him Hortence, found me on Facebook a bit ago. Hortence and I, one late evening, began chatting about some status update that he had that I was amused by. By the end of the conversation, Hortence suggested that we hang out and he gave me his digits. Remembering my mother, I accepted and reciprocated.  Unfortunately for Hortence, midterms were the week he asked to hang out and we had games in Oklahoma. So the date would have to wait. Upon my return, I told him I'd meet up with him to play some pool after my night class. 10pm rolls around on that Tuesday and I find myself waiting in the parking lot for Hortence, I'm early (which is a first), but patient. I don't want to ask him if he's there yet, nor do I want to be "that girl" that waits at a bar for someone, so I just people watch. A few couples walk in, some creepy solos who are apparently drunk walk in, and then it happens... "He" walks in.

The physical examination goes as follows: black dress shoes, gray skinny jeans that are oddly loose around the ass-al region, black dress belt, powder blue striped button-down (no undershirt), and obviously straightened hair. No way was this the same guy that I saw on Facebook. I verified his cuteness with Katie and Erin and we agreed that he was worth the random blind date. But this was absolutely  not the same person. "You've got to be joking...", I thought as I walked in the pool hall.

I opened the door and the look on his face was almost as if he was envisioning me as some angel walking through two doors that have flown open with a graceful force - tousling my hair as incandescence was beaming around my silhouette and doves were flying around behind me. Ridiculous. The first thing he says to me: "I don't know, they just handed me these... heh", referring to the rack of pool balls and two beers he just purchased. Immediately I noticed his nervous coughing tick thing.

Awkward conversation ensued and more nervous coughing ensued as we strolled over to the pool sticks. He grabbed a stick and began rolling it on the table as if he were finding the perfect stick for a big tournament he were about to enter. I just grabbed one and walked back to the table we chose.

Then it happened.

He pulls out a black satin glove as to better his pool playing game. I can't say that I hid what I was thinking very well. He disappeared to the bathroom and instructed me to break the rack. I opened my phone and texted Katie:

Me: "Hell no."
Katie: "Not cute or not cool?"
Me: "Both."
Katie: "ahahaha"

He came back and we played about 5 games of pool. He won. But who has a glove and sucks at pool? Then you're just a jackass. At least he beat me. His famous one-liner of the evening came from a conversation that we were having (nervous coughing didn't cease) about how he wound up in Abilene. He's from Pittsburgh.

Hortence: "My best friend is stationed at Dyess Air Force Base and told me I should come down and be on my own... so I did."
Me: "Did he fail to mention to you that this town was a dump?"
Hortence: "Hahaha, no he didn't tell me that. He didn't tell me that there were such pretty girls here, either. *wink*"

WINK. Oh my gosh. He winked.

After that he kept mentioning that he wanted to play the "slidey game". Which was his way of saying "shuffleboard". I told him I had homework and that I should go. It was 11:30pm and I'll never get that hour and a half back. I'm not even going to talk about the hug goodbye. Hands down the most awkward thing I've ever had to embrace. I was probably running to my car afterward, I can't remember. I do remember that I heard him cough a couple more times before he hopped into his 1989 red Nissan baby pick-up truck., though.

Moral of the story: dancing isn't for everyone. I'm sorry Mom, I tried. Kind of.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

The Downfall to My Self Esteem.

Currently watching: It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia.

So You Think You Can Dance, American Idol, America's Next Top Model, The Victoria's Secret Lingerie Show, The Olympics... What do all of these things have in common?

They all manifest people with a SUPREME amount of talent thus taking a detrimental toll on my self-confidence. But, like a Lifetime movie about rape or murder that I accidentally catch from the beginning,  I just can't stop watching them. And consequently, I'm always eating Chicken Express or vast amounts of chocolate chip cookies while the show is on. Which definitely doesn't help anything.

The people featured in these shows/competitions all average to about 18 years old. If not 18, I'd guess around 20. Either way, both of those ages are younger than my current one. And what am I doing? Sitting on my couch. In Abilene, Texas. Gawking as these people twist and leap effortlessly through the air, singing the national anthem in 4 different octaves all the while displaying their ripped-cut abs that they've had since the ripe age of 4.  It just makes me wonder what my life would be like if my parents and coaches had chosen to live vicariously through me. Practicing 40 hours a week on about 170 calories, falling behind in school, spending thousands of dollars, having my only friend be my dog... all for the love of my hobby...

I just wonder.

Whatever, I'm still jealous. These people are effing talented and keeping me delightfully entertained.