That might be a little bit of an exaggeration. Maybe I should rename the blog the year of a hundred first dates. I've been back in the States just over four months now and I'm making the most of the time in all realms, including dating. I debated about writing on really personal stuff, aka dating and relationships, for a while before posting this. I've allowed glimpses of my relationship disasters in the past. I may be a bit gun shy due to lousy romantic comedies (which I have boycotted for years) that presume anyone I meet will stumble on this blog, realize I've written about them and calamity will ensue. The good news for all of you is that I'm not meeting many promising options so as they fall by the wayside I have new batches of stories.
Work has really ramped up and I refuse to sacrifice my social/active life leaving me little time for blogging. I'll try to run down the dates one or two at a time, hopefully allowing me to blog quickly and often. Since I've decided to blog about the dates, I'll have to go back and start from the beginning in March. Today's installment is Preggers.
I met preggers at a Meetup event. It was a bar night meet n greet. We chatted about work, why he'd move to Seattle, yadda, yadda. By nights end some four hours later at 1:30 am he was trying very hard to convince me to stay "on his sofa" for the night. Eyebrow raised, riiiight. he got my number (before the drunken persuasion began) and we parted ways. A date was made for a week or so in the future and we met at Japonesa, a Japanese-Mexican fusion restaurant. The conversation was middle of the road and the night wrapped up with a good night kiss, but me driving to my house alone.
Pregger text me a lot. I've learned I'm not a needy girl and if anything I tend to shy away from someone who calls or texts multiple times a day everyday, especially at the beginning of things. Some from him were "how was your day" style, some were "it's ten pm, come over". Some were unusual. Preggers text me from San Fran where he was visiting some friends. He said he'd had a meal of Indian food. I asked if it was good and he said "I feel pregnant". Not I feel stuffed, or like i have a food baby (also slightly suspect) but I feel pregnant. Now if he were Mr. Fantastic I could over look it but this was the straw the broke the camels back. I wasn't sold before that point and left shopping to others after.
DATE #1, FAIL.
That could potentially have been a "treasure"- imagine the money this man will make being "pregnant". Haha
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