Here is my first stab at "the date blog". So, lets start with an introduction, and a little bit about myself. I am a young woman living in Boston working in a male dominated field. I have one roommate and friends who are far and near, without whom, I wouldn't be able to make it through these experiences, and laugh hysterically about afterwards. 
     Okay, so enough about me. Lets get on with the good stuff.

The first story I would like to tell you about involves my experience on an online dating site. Now I won't say which one, but needless to say, a lot of my stories spur from this site (note: I say most, not all...). So, on this site, I 'met' several men, talked to more, and when on dates with select few (as I tend to be pretty picky). Here are all of the gentlemen that I was in correspondence with-- well, their nicknames at least... Just because I choose not to use their real ones. (Mainly because I don't think they deserve it)

1. Hair Clip/Bobby pin (or, it's what my parents called him after they found out his name)
2. The Greek
3. Mr. Officer, sir, yes sir.
4. Harvard
5. The Indecisive Alaskan
6. Princess William

Yep. That seems to be all of them.

     Okay, let's start out with Hair Clip. Tall, dark, artsy, and handsome. Where could it go wrong? Right...? Well my friends, it went very, very, wrong...    So it started off very pleasant. Dinner, positive conversation, etc. Not to mention his profile photo, which seemed to be very attractive and artistic. Now, artistic I appreciate-- I don't consider myself a stellar artist or anything, but I do appreciate it. Anyway, it was shortly after Christmastime, and it was pretty chilly out even though it had been a mild winter. I had gone on my first date with Bobby pin(...hair clip...whatever you want to call him) , and we continued to text and talk for about a week after, when we decided to see each other on New Year's day. We continued to talk until the day before when I told him that I was reading this book called "Why Men Love Bitches". I told him and he seemed a bit put off at the time. Now, I personally think the book's name gives it its prowess, and that's why I started reading it after a friend of mine recommended it. But I thought it was a bit odd that he was so put off by it. He called it "crap" women read when there isn't anything better than a Cosmo.
     Well-- there was sign number one. DING DING DING!!! I clearly didn't think anything of it, and that is why the story continues. I went to bed that night and made my way over to his apartment in the South End the next afternoon. When I got there we talked, had some wine, and ordered some food. The curious thing about his apartment was that 

a) he lived there alone, and was recently unemployed
b) he "owned" the apartment in the South End-- which, if anyone reading this is a Bostonian, understands that the South End has a pretty hefty price tag for things like that-- 
c) the art on the walls. 
     
     Now, earlier I mentioned that his profile photo on the dating site was artistic. I thought, before I met him, he was in some kind of marketing or relations position and that he was interested in photography and other graphic art forms. The paintings on the wall looked like a three year old was given a paintbrush and decided to draw a stick figure-- a very simple, five-lines-and-a-circle kind of stick figure. What kind of man hangs art like that? Peculiar......DING DING DING!!! Sign number two.
     As we continued to hang out, I found out that he "LOVED" Home Goods. Which, I , as a woman, have never set foot in one..so, there's something off there too. Maybe a little more wrong than I thought.
     After seeing him , he proceeded to tell me that he was not sure about what he wanted, and that he needed to try and figure things out. Now, this annoyed me because I was under the assumption that if he was on a dating site, he should know what he wanted-- regardless, we stopped talking. 
     After this, I went on a couple more dates with some different guys and no one seemed to be sparking my interest. About a month after I stopped talking to the hair clip, I got a phone call from an unknown number. Thinking that it may have been one of my friends, I answered, and low and behold-- it was Bobby Pin. He was shocked that I actually answered the phone and  he profusely apologized for his behavior and asked if he could see me again. I reluctantly agreed to meet up with him again and I told him that I would "let" him buy me a coffee and allow him to explain himself.
     I was talking about the dates with my mom, and she confided in me that she thought that hair clip was gay-- which, to be honest, I thought was highly probable based on his love for fashion and home goods. Nevertheless, we had set up a coffee date.
The night before this meeting he called me to firm things up and make sure it was all set. I agreed, and I told him I would call him the following day. When morning came, I called him. I caught him in his car, where he proceeded to tell me that he was, again, not sure about what he wanted. 

This made me laugh.This was ridiculous. I was tired of it. I was done. That was the last straw. So this is what I replied:

"Listen, I think you should know exactly what you want with someone like me. I think you are absolutely twisted, and maybe you should see someone: regardless Hair clip, I think you're gay. I wish you luck in the dating world and hope you find whatever you seem to be looking for. Have a nice day and a great life." 

Proceeding the previous statement, I hung up. 

Now that is where the story ends. Or does it? 

Funnily enough, when I started considering writing this blog of disastrous and entertaining dates, I received a text message from Mr. Bobby pin professing apologies yet again. 
This time, I insisted he never message me again. 

So, there we are. I think that starts out to be a pretty good beginning of the date blog. 
Ciao for now.