Monica and I went to the theater Monday (Labor Day) and found the line snaking at the entrance. We were there to watch Kick-Ass 2. Parents and tween-aged girls (only one boy from I could see, though I couldn’t tell) all holding onto their $3.50 refill Carmike popcorn buckets buying tickets. When I finally got to the ticket lady to buy my ticket, I overheard a father state, “Yeah. One Direction.” Makes sense, I suppose. But where are your priorities parents?! You pulled your kids (ECISD still had school in session as it’s only been a week since school started) to watch some recorded concert? If only kids were as enthused about education as they were about some boy band they’ll scoff at in a handful of years.

In the Kitchen

Last Saturday, I decided to do something about my funk. Completely on impulse (because if I stopped to think about it, I wouldn’t have gone through with it), I set up a date with a young lady I met through Whisper. This wasn’t my original intention, of course. I just needed new people to speak to, strangers who could listen to my complaints without knowing my face. With her, however, I broke several of my rules. First of them, meeting people I met online. In person. Over the phone.

Saturday’s the allotted date night and what we’re doing is completely unknown to me outside of watching a movie together (I decided on You’re Next). Considering that I’ve never dated someone before (I’ve been on several outings with girls I was involved with, but not something this fresh and definitely nothing called a “date”), it’s a brave new world for me.

What could go wrong, right? Well, this morning I woke up with a sore throat, a throbbing head, and other minute indications that I’ve caught a cold. Worse of all, it’s spreading through the library as my coworker and supervisor are both sick. Yay! So I’m upping my dose of meds and hoping to get over this before Saturday (if not completely, just the parts that render me incapable of enjoying myself).

Angela’s convinced that I’m psyching myself out, over stressing the date concept but this isn’t my usual malady of avoidance. Besides, it’s not the date that I’m stressing about. It’s what comes after that’s making me uncertain. This is a date. It’s only a date. Yet, there’s an itch wondering if it’s going to lead to something a little more serious. I’m not ready for a relationship (serious or otherwise). This is just me testing the waters of how far I’ve come after the break up. I don’t want to hurt anyone in the process and I don’t want to lead anyone on. However, I’m a creature of habit and my habit is clinging on to affection wherever I get it for as long as I receive it.

Okay. Well, here’s to experience.

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