Welcome to my happily ever after...
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witness relocation program
I hate a date last night. I finally gave up on fate introducing me to Mr. Right, so I placed an online personal ad. I received some interesting responses (to say the least), and I chose the one least likely to give me another venereal disease. His name is Danny.
Well, Danny and I chatted on the phone, and he seemed like a likeable enough chap, so we decided to meet for coffee last night. He wasn't exactly what I thought he would be like, but he was cute and had a good personality. I thought that things went well, and we didn't have to search for things to talk about. We ended our date shaking hands and he asked me to go out for drinks tonight with his friends. He said he would call me tonight and tell me the details. Well, it is now 7:36 PM and I still haven't heard squat. If I wasn't such a pussy, I would call him, but I know that if he really wants me to go, he would call me. So now I feel that I am in another situation like last January where I go out with someone once, and as a result they join the witness relocation program.
So I need to figure out exactly what the problem is. I'm not sending some phony picture of what I look like, so that's not it. I sit there and ask question after question about their life to keep from talking too much about myself (my pet peeve in potential boyfriends). I am polite, prompt, and well groomed, so that isn't it, I hope.
Granted this was a 23 year old, and I am 30. But is a number really a factor after you reach a certain age? Perhaps my telling him that I don't really go out much made him think I am an old man, but it's no lie. I haven't been out to a bar here in Houston in months. (If you read my entry from last Saturday, I neglected to ever write that my friends called and cancelled at the last minute.)
You know, I think the abyssmal lows I sank to last year really nicked my confidence, which I honestly think was once one of my strongest personality traits. I haven't addressed it once since I started my new diary, but my alcoholism has changed me. I know that it will always be there, hiding behind the corner waiting to jump out at me when I least expect it.
7:33 p.m. - 2002-03-29
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