Okay, so I really hope this entry isn’t going to show up the way it is in the textbox.  It’s huge!  And I can’t figure out how to fix it and don’t really have time to care.  Yes, I could go in and fix the code and I will if I have to, but there’s a reason I use WP’s editor.  I’m lazy and I feel like letting technology do my work for me.  One day, technology is going to end up killing me so I might as well reap the meager benefits while I can. 

Anyway, tonight is D-night.  I probably wouldn’t be so terrified if I hadn’t been rethinking all of my dates-from-Hell and reading other people’s stories on Etiquette Hell during my slow moments at work.  I really should have figured out that I scare easily by now, but really, I think I like putting myself through this mental agony.  It’s the equivalent of slamming into the railing and getting a massive bruise on my hip, then spending the next day or so poking at it just so I can go “owww!”

I realize that I’m always so nervous for a stupid reason.  I’ve never quite accepted that it’s okay if we don’t click.  That sometimes the chemistry just isn’t there.  Part of it is that I’m picky about who I date in the first place.  I’ve figured out how to avoid the seriously creepy guys who are just too off-kilter to realize that, not only am I out of their league, we’re not even from the same galaxy.  So I always end up feeling guilty when I date sane, intelligent, kind, gentle, interesting, reasonably attractive men and just don’t feel it.  And why should I get to wait around until I feel it?  There are women being beaten by their partners, for God’s sake. 

Maybe next time there’s no chemistry, I’ll use the line my mom gave me: “It’s not that you’re not a great guy.  You just don’t stimulate my limbic system.”

One hour until we meet.  I’ve always figured that in order to avoid looking like a prostitute on a first date, you should choose one feature to play off at a time.  So, I’ve got my power-dress (a ballet pink J. Crew sleeveless sundress that’s amazing for my collarbones), a nice pair of sandals and an airy cream lace shrug.  Very limited makeup and touchable hair and just a spritz of Marc Jacobs’ Essence.  Now it’s time to listen to some relaxing Belle & Sebastian.  Everything’s going to go well.