By the time you read this, I’ll be sitting in a hot tub overlooking the Chesapeake with a drink in hand—preferably something cool and alcoholic (even if it is only 8:00am)—and reading one of the Victorian novels I discovered while cleaning my room last weekend. Today marks my first day off in three weeks and I intend to enjoy it.
But enough about me and my bikini— let’s get down to business, shall we?
When that radio produced from the CBC called last month to pre-interview me about my “dating spreadsheet,” I quickly realized that my story wasn’t quite what she was looking for. (This was because I recognized her technique. It’s called “Ask the same question over and over again, only ask it slightly differently each time.” This is the same technique I use when I’m in journalist-mode and my interviewee isn’t giving me what I want.)
So I tossed her the name of the Spreadsheet Master himself (fellow blogger Dennis H.) and lo and behold, Dennis managed to snag a proper interview. I’d be jealous if he hadn’t thanked me profusely and offered to buy me a drink should we ever meet in the real world. (I’m gonna hold you to it, Dennis; a proper raspberry chocolate truffle martini with all the fixin’s.)
But I still haven’t forgotten my little mini-interview. Nor one of the producer’s more poignant questions:
What are you going to do with your spreadsheet if you ever, you know… get married?
“I don’t know,” I replied. In truth, I’d never given it much thought. “Burn it? Frame it? Give it my daughter on her 18th birthday and say, ‘Go have fun, honey?’ Maybe I’ll—ooh! I know! I’ll create one of those really sappy websites that people make for their weddings and I’ll display the spreadsheet in the ‘How we met’ section. Maybe I’ll even print a copy for each of our wedding guests.”
(Actually, this isn’t a bad idea. I intend to have a Quaker wedding. I’ve never been to a Quaker wedding but from what I understand, they can be a bit boring. Maybe my guests would like some lighthearted reading material to keep themselves entertained during the service? I’ll have to take a poll when the time comes.)
Anyway, her question got me thinking. How will I account for this little “year of fieldwork?” How will I explain my spreadsheet to my future husband? Obviously he’ll love me in spite of/because of my… er, eccentricities, but maybe this blog is going to come back to haunt me?
I’m starting to feel as though my “research” is becoming counterproductive at this point. Until last weekend’s rock climbing adventure, I hadn’t made it past the two-date mark since (hold on a sec, gotta consult the spreadsheet) since JANUARY!
It would seem that I’m getting worse at dating instead of better. I mean I’m getting better at small talk and flirting and doing that sexy thing with the stem of my wineglass that I didn’t even realize I was doing until one of my previous dates got all hot and bothered by it and asked me to stop…
But my “skills” won’t amount to a beans if I end up so jaded, so hyper-critical, so the-grass-is-always-greener-on-the-other-side as a result of this experiment that I spend the rest of my life looking for perfection.
I know, I know. I’m only 25. When I find The One, I’ll give up the rest. Love will find you when you least expect it and all that jazz but in the back of my head, I’m starting to worry if I’m doing serious damage here. I keep hearing that too many choices f*cks up your ability to make a decision and that actually there is such a thing as too much dating.
So, my dear readers, tell it to me straight: Would you date me, knowing what you know about me?
Would you introduce me to your parents?
Would you marry me?
Would you trust me to raise well-adjusted children? (I promise I won’t let them read romantic novels until they’re at least in high school. Maybe even in college.)
Or, on the other hand, would you simply take me out a few times, have your fun as I do that thing I do with my wineglass and then dive straight back into the dating pool, hoping you’ll find someone less sociable to be the mother of your children?
Seriously, tell me. Especially my male readers. I want to know.