Another Edition of The Dating Chronicles

Maybe I'm watching a little too much Dexter, but I stood a guy up this week.  My gut instinct was telling me that there was a strong possibility I would end up bound and gagged in a car trunk and my remains would turn on somewhere along the Mississippi River.   There are just certain things that you shouldn't put in a text message to someone you've never met.  Like, wear a dress, heels, and nylons.  And, I have something really special planned for you.  And, an invitation to hotel room to go along with this just made me feel a little uneasy.

A dress and heels?  Really?  I like jeans and a sneakers.  I can run faster that way.  He said he was in town on business and lives two hours from here.  Just have to wonder what kind of business when he has all of this extra time to text and play on online dating sites.  And, an invitation to a hotel on the first date?!  I'm guessing he doesn't do hotels like I do.  Fairly certain we wouldn't be in separate beds eating vending machine junk food and watching reality television.        

The night before we were supposed to go out, he was texting me asking me to meet him for a drink.  I was already in yoga pants and tucked nicely in bed.  "No" may be a difficult word for me, but when I'm comfortable and in yoga pants, NO rolls off my tongue like the F word rolls off Debra's tongue on Dexter.  (Another Dexter reference for you.)  I spent an hour texting him NO!  An hour that I could have spent watching Dexter, or writing in my journal about how much I LOVE being single.  This dude had already become a thorn in my side before we even went out, so I didn't feel so bad about shooting him a text saying I wouldn't be meeting him.  And, I'm not washed up on the shores of the Mississippi, so I think I made the right choice. 

One week from today I will be 32 and I don't feel any pressure to get married, so why am I putting myself through all this?  My biological clock doesn't care.  In fact, my uterus and I had a talk and she's in no hurry to have a miniature human move in.  In fact, she's the one encouraging the adoption option.  

Then it hits me... maybe this guy was completely normal?!  Maybe he's one of those hopeless romantics and here I am just talking to my uterus.