Hmm. Where do I begin? A lot's happened in the past few weeks. Professionally, romantically, emotionally. It always happens all together like that. I still haven't been back to the gym. Haven't had time. Been really busy with work, and buying DVDs...and a date. A really special one, I think. With the girl from the party. I emailed her last week (I'm not sure why I waited so long), and she took some time to get back to me. I was getting nervous. Maybe I took too long to write her? Maybe she was toying with me? Maybe she thought I was stupid and ugly and didn't want to ever see me again? Maybe she didn't give me her real email address and she was never interested in me to begin with? Maybe she was as shitty as I originally thought she was when we first interacted? All of these thoughts upset me and I began to hate her again. Suddenly, she emailed me four days later, and by the time I finished reading her message, I was captivated again. She wanted to meet. She included her phone number in the email. For some reason, my stomach began to hurt at the sight of her digits. I got really nervous, and decided that deleting the email and never talking to her again might be a good idea, but then I realized that I had to seize this opportunity while I had the chance. I queued up "Like a Prayer" by Madonna (one of my favorite guilty pleasures) on my stereo and turned up the volume. Inspired by the music, I started doing pushups. 25, 50, as many as I could do. After 4 sets of 25, I stood up, a trembling mess, sweaty and red faced, and ran into my bathroom, peeling my shirt off. I flexed my swollen muscles in the mirror, cooing to my self, "Yeah....yeah. You like that?" After I felt sexy and confident enough, I turned the music off, took a few deep breaths, and called the number she gave me. It went straight to her voicemail message. He message was short, cute, and to the point. "Hi. Not here, leave a message. Bye." I liked that. The phone beeped at me. "Uh...hey. HEY. This is...the guy you met at Marty's party a few weeks ago. The guy that you emailed. Today. Hey. So uh, I was thinking we could maybe hang out? This weekend? Soon? I'd like to take you to this gourmet Chinese place downtown...if..that's alright." I continued to babble for maybe ten seconds more, before finally giving her my phone number to call me back. Then I drank beer and played xbox for the rest of the night, hating myself for sounding so idiotic on her voicemail.

Well, she ended up calling me back, late that night, after I had almost gone crazy convincing myself that I'm worthless and that she'd never call back. She told me she'd love to let me take her out to dinner, and we made plans for Friday night. I spent the rest of the week in a nervous/excited daze. But I couldn't help thinking this was some cruel joke and that she wasn't going to be at the restaurant. I have to start taking these chances, I told myself. I need a mate...a lover...a sidekick. Or at the very least, someone who'll make me feel good about myself. So the night finally came, and when I showed up at the restaurant, there she was, looking stunning. The date went wonderfully. We talked about all kinds of things (she was actually interesting), and I was able to get her to crack up a few times. Making her laugh made me feel so amazing. For instance, when we were ordering our meals, I insisted that I make some recommendations to her. "No no, I insist. Put the menu down. I've been here a bunch of times. I'll read you some of the specialties," I told her. She seemed hesitant, until she saw what I was up to. I lowered my voice and began to speak in a Chinese accent, pretending to read from the menu. "Ah, tonight's ah special, we have ah braised ree-tah-ded duck een a special peeglet sauce." She looked at me with her mouth agape, then looked around to make sure no one could hear us, and started giggling quietly. I smiled at her. "Ah, Szechuan baaayby cheecken! Most suffering baby chicken! Extreme pain and unpleasantness brings out special dericate frava in baby chicken!' A waiter walked by with food for another table, so I cleared my throat and started speaking normally. "Ahem, I think we should get some of the homemade dumplings. They're really good here." When the waiter was far enough away, I resumed my game. "Ah yessss. You get ah thees! Dericate pigret, in special pigret sauce! Little pig taken away from his mother at very young age, very heartbroken! Die most excruciating death, taste so dericious!" At this point my date was actually clapping her hands with delight, slightly bouncing up and down as she laughed. I was melting inside. I then handed her a menu and we both ordered some delicious meals. We also got funny drinks. She ordered a zombie (which got her pretty buzzed) and I did my best to order a suffering bastard with a straight face (except with the waiter repeated my order - ah, suffering bahstahd) it was all I could do to not burst out laughing. She was kicking me in the shins while I ordered to keep me in line. There was rarely a break in the conversation during the meal, except to put food in our mouths. We went our seperate ways after dinner, and I felt the happiest I've felt since I keyed some asshole's Range Rover that double-parked in the parking garage at work last month. But even happier. I have a feeling that things are going to be okay for me...