I once went on a date with someone whose family is from Serbia. Somewhere within the date that led to “Disturbia” by Rhianna being in my head. Since I hate that song and anything Rhianna related, that was our only date.
This is, unfortunately, how I think and it’s the method I base my life upon.
Since this is the first edition of this blog I have to assure you I’m not crazy, just really neurotic. And the point of this blog is to make others with similar mindsets feel better about themselves and for everyone else to enjoy our misery.
For this week’s misery, I’d like to discuss the wonderful world of dating. Now, I’m clearly no expert but I HAVE been on a lot of first dates, or as I like to call them: learning experiences.
The most prominent thing my neurotic lifestyle has taught me is that I look for a flaw in everyone. As soon as I find the flaw the date is over either in my head or in reality. I simply cannot live with the flaw I find. For example, I’ve dated my share of wonk eyes, exposed nose hairs and French people or people who look as if they could possibly be French.
Does this make me a bad person? Probably, but I don’t care. What am I gonna do? Look past it? Am I 40, divorced and morbidly obese? My Liz Lemon way of thinking clearly doesn’t help and neither does my Rhoda Morgenstern demenour that leads to the Dorothy Zbornak-inspired outcome. I’ve even stayed on dates that have gone horrible just so I could see how bad it can get so I could use it for inspiration.
Along with being severely neurotic I am also a Capricorn. According to the stars, that means I’m also an unfeeling bastard who only cares about his career. But I only give the constellations partial credit for getting it half right. I might not come out with my feelings but they’re there. I’m not a robot; I just seep black ooze. Furthermore, I’m a journalist, which means it’s my job to listen and quietly read people without much facial expression. I’ve learned that makes people uncomfortable and some of my best friends have told me they thought I hated them when we first met. I can only imagine what my first dates have thought. Explaining it doesn’t help either. Trust me. Also refrain from going down the smiling a lot route – creepy.
Maybe I, and other neurotic folk, are meant to be alone – a punishment for thinking too much and reading into miniscule things. Is there a balance? Someone out there who can accept us for who we are? Let’s hope so because porn can only go so far.
Photo found here.
Cody McGraw is many things but the thing you can actually call him to his face is the Managing Editor of The Little Red Umbrella. See more posts from him here or follow him on Twitter (@cody_mcgraw).