My brain is a two-by-four, Part deux

(October 20, 2011)
And yet again, I can't bring myself to be productive right now, but I'm forced to be at a computer. I've exhausted facebook, go fug yourself (fashion blog), and iwastesomuchtime.com (collection of epic hilarious randomness) for all new material, and therefore, you get another email :) Not least because I still have more to tell you.

I actually went on another date on Monday, with a different guy. Also a set-up. Ha ha. But funny story - I was watching conference with a couple of the guys in my ward, and one of them announced that he had a really great friend who was killer amazing at piano. Me being me, I demanded (with my tongue lodged firmly in my cheek) that he set me up with this person so I could fall in love with him tout de suite. I don't think it came out quite that creepy, though. Anyhow, I was gifted with twenty-first century Mozart's number, and he with mine, and as we texted, we discovered that he had, in fact, been in my first-ever seminary class at Brighton and knew Heather (my sister, for clarification) rather well. Of course, he didn't remember me, as he was two years ahead, but still really funny.

(Side note: this BEAUTIFUL civil engineer who's talked to me, like, twice, is helping someone a few computers down in the CAEDM and I'm hoping that the force of my mental demand that he get his butt over here and tell me how ferociously good-looking I am and that I should go out with him will actually end in results for me. Bahahahaha.)

Oh, good, he left, so I can actually focus a little better :P

Anyhow, Monday. My date, with the former Brighton student: actually the best date I've ever had. Probably. Maybe. I don't know. But definitely the first time that I realized that it was possible to appreciate a date just because it's a well-put-together date, and not based on the solidity of your friendship with and/or attraction to your date. Did that make sense? Probably not. I'm not explaining, though, my brain is too exhausted to be able to detour for that long and then make it back to its original track.
To details on said date:
I must begin with a disclaimer that a lot of the things that happened on this date are going to sound lame, or cheesy, and I must assure you that they were actually neither in the offing. Also, please do not jump to the conclusion that because I was able to handle the fromage without laughing about it, I must heartily like my date. Really, I'm not remotely attracted to him. Nice guy, excellent to talk to, but not my style. He was just mystically able to bring off doing lame things and making them enjoyable. It really defies explanation, but I shall make a valiant attempt in the next few paragraphs.

For dinner, we went to this place in Midway (a very lovely drive through Provo canyon away) that had KILLER salmon. Oh, lands. We also had some amazing chocolate pumpkin delicious awesomeness for dessert. I died. Have I ever mentioned my preternatural obsession with all things sweet and pumpkin flavored? It's there. After that, we went and drove around to some of the resorts in Midway (again - sounds: lame; was: great.) and went to look in a crater that abuts one such hotel, at the bottom of which was a scuba diving tank - lit, and very, very cool. After that, we went further up the canyon and stopped at this place where you could see butt loads of stars, and we got out of the car and wandered around. (And yes, for the most cliche moment of the evening, he insisted I dance with him for about thirty seconds). Then he took me home, all the while effusing about buckling knees and how my presence might necessitate a prescription for an inhaler (and HERE was where I chose to roll my eyes back about as far as they would go, because....really? Stop lying to me.) And he told me I looked "stunningly beautiful" in the requisite date follow-up text. Haha.
Really, the only result of this date was such as to make me mildly annoyed that I don't actually like him. That would have been so perfect and I'd be so giddy if I wanted him. But I don't. BOO.

Ha, and then he sent me a song. He wrote it. For me. Again with the cheese. Uncomfortable cheese, this time. But also, again, that would be freaking cute if I liked him. That makes the first song ever written for me. Stupid face.

Ha and the biggest reason I don't like him - there's another boy I want in my ward.

I wrote him an excellent song.

I should send you the lyrics.