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Thursday 13 October 2005

It is time

I must speak to you about the men.

And no, this is not the part where I start making the exciting announcements that some people have been making lately. Have I mentioned that I'm very happy for both of these amazing girls? Because I am, even if those announcement do tend to somehow serve as yet another reminder that I will die alone, and that the closest I've been to any action in, like, years, was that time on Sunday when the Scrunchie Lady kept pawing at my lap. Oh! And the closest I've been to dating happened today when I was walking down the sidewalk and some jock yelled, "Oi, b*tch!" out his car window. I bear him no ill will, though. He'll get what's coming to him, preferably in the form of a bull moose through his windshield.

So. The men. Lots and lots and lots of them are jaw-droppingly handsome, with gorgeous spiky hair and these really great ribbed sweaters and accents that make my knees go weak. I have to not listen to what they're saying, though, otherwise that ruins the spell, since it's almost always about how drunk they just were, how drunk they now are, or how drunk they plan to be in the very near future. Charming. And it's so sad, too, because they're all so cute, but it's not like I'm going to drink with them or smoke with them or have sex with them or wear those goshawful mini skirts with the black leggings like the little fresher girls will (no lie, people. Black. Leggings.). So it's like this lost cause from the beginning, because I'm not going to wear the leggings. I'm just not.

I've been keeping an eye out for cute guys at church, because, let's face it, that's pretty much the pool from which I can reasonably fish, if fishing is to be done. There are some cute ones. They're all about 5 years younger than me, but they are cute. And hey, they don't need to know how old I am.

There's also a guy in my program who kind of baffles me. He's from Pocatello Idaho and went to Utah State, so he knows about the Mormons, even if he isn't one. He seems very confused as to why a "good little Mormon girl" would want to come live in England for a year. (Hello, who wouldn't want to live in England for a year?) I think he wonders if my leaving Utah is a form of rebellion, and that I secretly plan to go hog-wild, much like Amish youths who are sent out for a taste of Babylon. Yesterday he offered to take me pub crawling, and I don't know if he was serious or not. So yeah, not sure what to make of that. He lives with his girlfriend, though, so I doubt he has any personal reasons for wanting to get me sloppy drunk.

Yesterday, just after the pub crawl invite, we had this conversation.

Idaho: So what are Mormon guys like?

Me, before thinking: Pathetic.

Only then I had to backtrack and explain that not all Mormon men are pathetic souls who are more interested in sitting at home and playing computer games rather than dating me. It just feels that way sometimes. About the guys my age. Sometimes. Not that I'm a social butterfly myself, but there's only so much a girl can do. Yeah.

Finally I talked myself into a corner.

Me: But hey, you went to Utah State. I'm sure you knew tons of Mormon guys.

Idaho: Well, I didn't date any of them.

Me: Ah, true point. I wouldn't recommend it.

So tomorrow night there's a Young Single Adult dance over in Birmingham that supposedly gets a good turnout. We'll see how that goes, or if I should just start chasing down the frat boys now.

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