Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Darcy

While I was in Kuna last, my aunt mentioned The Lizzie Bennett Diaries. How had I never heard of these before?! I don't know...but I spent the weekend rectifying the situation. (If I haven't convinced you to look at them yet, do so now. Start with episode one, here.)

Only moments ago I was talking to a friend about how I would be terrible at speed dating. Our ward held such an activity on Monday, and I couldn't go because I was at work late. (If you doubt that I was going to go, I'll have you know that I dressed for the occasion, even if I hadn't completely decided...) Anyway, I told her that I am terrible at things like speed dating because I am absolutely wretched at small talk.

I come off as a... b^+<''.

Anyway, as I was thinking about that, I realized: I am Darcy. As in, Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. He comes off as arrogant and proud, even though his friends are deeply devoted to him. He's awkward in large social settings, and says thinks bluntly that come off as horrible... As I said.

I was pretty please with my introspection; not moments later, I stumble upon this:


I didn't even look at the bottom to see who was who, or where the flow chart was leading, and what do you know? I ended up at Darcy, twice. There was one question where I could have gone either way, and I still ended up being Darcy.

Validated.

Trust Issues


I've seen this around the internet several times. For me, it's not true. There's nothing more disappointing then thinking I'm getting an oatmeal raisin cookie that ends up beings a chocolate oatmeal cookie. Oatmeal + raisins is good. If you want a chocolate chip cookie, don't add the oatmeal.

I can't be the only one alone in this.

Then again, it wouldn't surprise me.

If forced to choose, oatmeal raisin cookies would be my favorite. Oatmeal chocolate chip... lame. Very, very lame.

Friday, February 08, 2013

Writing Realistic Love Stories

I don't think it is a secret that I write and read romances. There's something about them that I just can't seem to give up, and I've really only tried (to give them up) halfheartedly anyway. Despite having a great love for these stories, I will be the first to admit that they are completely unrealistic, almost always cheesy, and just a little bit vomit-inducing.

I was talking to a friend and he asked, "Why can't a realistic love story be written?"

My immediate answer: It can't. It just can't. Not in a romance novel. Because there is always going to be an element of cheese. Because do guys really say those things that makes your heart melt and kicks up a flock of butterflies in your stomach?


Kisses this awesome have to be scripted and acted out. I'm beginning to think that they don't really happen in real life.

Besides, if realistic love stories were written, you'd have to include all the mundane things. The annoying habits that you have to put up with...

I don't know. The closest thing I've read to a "real" love story is in Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series. And even though the love story seems to ring true (if just a little puffed up) the rest of the story isn't, what with the witches and time travel and magic stones. Movies that portray "real" love stories end up like Blue Valentine, which is just depressing.

When I wrote my book, I tried to make it a realistic love story. It just got boring. So I threw in some things that I hope happen to absolutely nobody in real life.

I guess there's a reason we call it fiction; and a reason why the genre is so popular. We have to get our fixes of this overly-passionate, unrealistic love somewhere, because we aren't going to get it in our real lives.

That Time Pandora Thought I Was Almost Middle-Aged


Not yet, Pandora.

Wednesday, February 06, 2013

Delivery Guy

I've mentioned on this blog before that I've crushed on the Les Olson delivery guy before; and most people that follow me on Facebook have read the comments about when he drops by and makes my day by just letting me look at him and smile retardedly until he leaves.

There has been a lot of discussion about flirting with him (here) and not knowing how to take advantage of the 35 seconds I have to sign the paper before he leaves.

In December, when my work decided that we were doing our Christmas dinner, I was told that I needed to "find my Prince Charming" to invite as my date. (The last time we had a Christmas party, I invited a roommate of my friend and have not talked to him since...) I racked my brains with who to invite.

I had an offer of an engaged friend to come with me. I had a friend offer her husband. And then there's the group of guys that I hang out with on a regular basis, and I decided, that would be cheating. I wanted to bring a date. Not just a friend. So who?

A mention of it at the office had the guys suggesting a few guys. One of them being the Les Olson guy. I thought about it and then had a mini panic attack. Why shouldn't I ask him? But how should I ask him? What ensued was a lot of orders for toner (which were actually legit) and plotting and plots being foiled... There was talk about luring him back to the supply closet. There were WHOLE CONVERSATIONS planned in my head.

In the end, someone always managed to come down the stairs, ruining my "game" (yeah right, like I have game...) and a result of nothing.

And then "Santa" came to the office early, bearing the delivery guy's phone number on a post-it.

I debated for a whole day as to whether or not I should use the number. I did not know the precise tactics by which it was procured, and that made me worried. All the guys bet against me. No one thought I would actually call, but they asked on and off for the rest of the day. I polled all my friends. I had mini-panic attacks. I took the number home that night and didn't do anything with it.

Then, I decided, "What the heck." And on my way to work the next day, I called.

The guys all at work said that they were proud of me. I think they were shocked. Honestly, after listening to what my girl friends had to say (they all claimed that they would not call), I decided that I was proud of myself. The delivery guy acted as though he was interested until I gave him the date and he said he would be out of town.

I don't know if that was an excuse, the truth, or whatever. I did it. And I did it without actually having a panic attack and without feeling dashed to pieces when it didn't end up as a success. It wasn't that hard after all.

We've had one order of toner since then, and the delivery guy didn't come.

That's not really a good sign. Was he sick that day? Out of town? Did he have his whole route changed because of me? It's hard to know. I hope not, because that would be really dumb. Even though he turned me down, I am not embarrassed to interact with him (remember how he's in my office for 35 seconds per delivery?), so if he's embarrassed or what, afraid I'm going to jump him? then that's stupid.

I ended up finding a date to take to the Christmas party. That was after making a foolish misjudgment and asking someone I shouldn't have, then calling and persuading him to admit that he'd probably stand me up and deciding to call the whole thing off. I found my date randomly, and it ended up being a really good night.

Of course, if this follows tradition, I will likely never talk to him again.

Whatever.

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