The Danger of Online Dating

I don't even know how to begin telling this story…

The other night I was checking my messages on OKCupid, ignoring most of them, and thinking that I should just cancel the account, when I read a message from an attractive black guy*, "Do you want to go to a concert or musical with me?"

*This is important only because of my desire to have little black babies, which are so adorable. And the fact that I think a lot of black men are attractive, but have never dated any of them.

 

That's all it said. I checked out his profile, and it seemed pretty innocent. He even answered questions that said that he didn't smoke or drink, and so, on an impulse, I said "Ok."

We arranged to just meet last night.

He picked the spot: Gateway food court, 7 pm. So I was there, reading my Kindle, and I see these hot black men walk in. Not him. And then this kid bobs into the cafeteria, and wanders around until he settles on Hot Dog on a Stick, where he bought himself some fries and a drink. Then he found me.

He has this nerdy vibe, but he's still cute, but… I don't know. He's socially awkward, a little. And I know almost immediately that I want out. But we sit and talk, and he tells me that the Mormon religion is a cult. And harasses me about the church's history with blacks, and all kinds of other things…

Then we switch topics and he asks me what I like to do for "fun", even though I know what he's really asking. Don't ask me how I knew, but I can be perceptive some times, and even though I skirted around what he wanted to know for a few minutes by saying that I liked to travel, and I wanted to get into hiking, etc. etc. He asked again what I did for "fun", and I called him out on it. "You mean, instead of having sex?" Yes. That's what he wants to know. I just roll my eyes, and we have to have a discussion about how it's my choice and not the church ordering me what to do… blah blah blah

He asked me what's the craziest thing I've ever done and I tell him, I don't do crazy things. I'm pretty mellow. Not a thrill-seeker. And he's like, "No, what's the craziest thing you've done?" And I'm like, "Do you mean, what's the most rebellious thing I've done?" And he says yes, that is what he means. I just shrug. "Well, let's do something crazy right now," he says. "Where are the bathrooms?"

Oh, hell.

I knew what was going to happen, and I couldn't figure out a way to politely excuse myself and be done with the whole thing. So I follow him (he bounces, and I am about 10 ft behind him) to a certain point and then I stop, because duh, I'm not following him to the bathrooms.

This is where it gets uncomfortable.

He asks me how long it has been since I've made out with someone. Bad question: it's been ages. I don't know how to answer, and he surmises the truth. He asks me, "So, no sex?"

"NO. No sex."

And then he kisses me.

Despite how weird the whole thing was, and me wanting to leave, I want this to work. I want it to be good. I mean, we're not quite near the bathrooms, but we're in an alcove that is secluded. And there's a wall. He's cute (except when he walks, and speaks, and eats…) and he's black!

It doesn't last long. His lips are too big, and I don't have experience with that. I feel like it's my first kiss all over again, I'm 16 and clueless. I don't really respond, because I don't… know. I don't want this, but I sort of… confusion.

I decide it is time to go, and he clearly is going to walk me to my car, which is fine, except I'm a dimwit, and can't find my car in the parking garage. So we're wandering around in the parking garage, me trying to keep conversation on benign topics, and with him asking, "So, no sex?" He walks behind me, with his arms wrapped around me, asking why I won't have sex with him…and I'm just like, "Is this why you are online? So you can just hook up with any girl that says yes?!" He denies it, but I know it's true. So I keep going, "You are just looking for some lonely, desperate girl to hook up with?" And he's like, "Are you desperate?" No. I say it emphatically. I tell him that it wouldn't happen tonight, anyway, even if I did have sex…we've literally only known each other for an hour.

Finally, I find my car. I'm relieved, but he helps himself into my passenger seat so that I can take him to his car. But first he wants to make out in the front seat. Honestly, I had no idea how to get out of the situation, and I didn't want to be rude (residual effect of having to defend the church and its members, trying to prove that we aren't intolerant, racist, prudes), but… he kisses me again, only this time, he's getting handsy, trying to feel me up. I grab his hand and push it away and he's still trying to cop a feel and look down my shirt. He's like, "Just show me a boob." !!!!!

And I was like, "NO!" He asks me why, and I'm like, "This is all you get to see. I wear clothes for a reason." He tries to cop a feel again, and I'm done. I want him out. So I put my car in gear, and start driving out of the parking lot.

We get to his car, and he tells me to call or text him… seriously?

I still feel dirty.

 

Actually, it's been a few nights and I've had several discussions with friends. First, I am never doing something like this again, and I just might invest in a taser. Second, I can be blunt and forthright, and I just need to do that without worrying about hurting a dude's feelings when I want out. And lastly, who, WHO does this kind of crap actually work on?

 

Not only was he not a gentleman but he wasn't complimentary, he didn't behave with anything close to what the realms of human decency would allow (Um, hi, don't bash my religion for 20 minutes and then expect to get in my pants) and common courtesy... (How many times do I have to say NO?)

 

Anyway... it was a nightmare, and now I'm glad it's over so I can totally laugh about it.

Cankles

Eleven days ago I was laying in my parents' bed, writhing in agony as Mackenzie massaged my foot. Something was wrong with it, and something is still wrong with it. Mother thought that I was being dramatic, but even the slightest pressure made my eyes well up with tears and I seriously felt like something was broken.

My foot was just a little puffy.

After flying from Ohio to Provo, almost certain dehydration and a lack of supportive footwear made my already inflated foot look something like this:

Puffy left foot. Noticeable veins on my translucent right foot.

Luckily when I got back to work on Wednesday, I had the office mostly to myself and shoes weren't entirely necessary. I literally could not fit my foot into anything other than flip flops. I was hobbling around the office, trying not to put any extra pressure than was necessary. Going up the stairs was very painful. I was almost certain that there was a broken bone in my foot.

I went home and iced my foot for hours, kept it elevated, and took some heavy-strength Motrin my mom had sent me home with.

It didn't really help.

By Friday, I had cankles.

Second to my eyes, I get the most compliments on my skinny legs. I've always attributed this to my grandmother, who at the age of 74, still has fantastic looking legs. Although, now I'm thinking that I was guaranteed to have good legs regardless, because while I was home, I noticed that my dad also has skinny legs. Anyway...

Looking down and seeing a cankle is not exactly morale boosting. It's sooooo puffy and so gross. I tried drinking gallons of water. I tried alternating between extreme heat (hello reason for long, hot showers!) and ice.

On Saturday, I had an ankle again. (Hallelujah!) On Sunday, I didn't want to risk more swelling, and I skipped my ward (and the loooong hike up a steep hill and millions of stairs in heels) and attended a local ward with my friend Katy.

And while earlier this week, my foot was still puffy, it didn't hurt. I was beginning to see a trace of the veins that most certainly should be on display...and then I mucked it all up.

I wore wedges yesterday. All day long.

Today, my foot is very puffy. Not as puffy as it was before, after all, I am still wearing some normal-ish flats. But it is puffier than it has been in days. And it kind of hurts again.

Dang.

In trying to figure out what exactly is wrong with my foot, I've ruled out all the possibilities that I can think of.  My neighbor was terrified that it could be a blood clot. Symptoms for blood clots include: swelling and heat at that area. Right now, my feet are actually freezing. But normally, my whole body is on the verge of internal combustion (and when we were talking about it, I was sitting in my upstairs, poorly insulated, extremely hot bedroom) and it would be impossible to tell if one part of my body was more overheated than the rest.... regardless, I don't think it is a blood clot.

Another suggestion is some sort of spider or bug bite. I have ruled this out because there is no area of skin that is red, no evidence of bite marks, etc. Although my skin is not translucent on my left foot like it is on my right, it is still very pale (I have not gone swimming this year nearly enough.) and something like such as would be very evident.

Also, unless I was beat, crushed, or slammed against the wall in the dead of night while entirely passed out, I have no recollection of actually injuring my foot.

So, it's sort of a mystery.

I schedule an appointment to see the doctor next Tuesday. So, if it is still puffy then (and it likely will be...), I guess I'll ask and see what she comes up with. Until then, I am just hoping that I get to keep my ankles.

Maimed and Falling Apart

A few days ago, I burnt my mouth. Yes, my whole mouth. Well... the roof of my mouth, especially favoring the left side. It's been tender and sore ever since, so eating other hot foods has not been pleasant and every time I brush my teeth and floss, the roof of my mouth bleeds.

It's kind of gross.

To add to the gross factor, I have no less than 15 bug bites on my legs, one in the crook of my elbow and a few on my foot. They itch, but I have been trying to ignore it. My two-year old hydrocortisone plus (from WalMart) cream, which has been stored in my car and so it is fairly melty, has not been doing a great job. I continue to apply it to the bumps.

I've also been applying it to the random rash that appeared on my left hand, third finger (yes, that finger). It's bright red with a long New Hampshire-shaped blister on it. It itches like a mother, hurts when hot water touches it and is a general nuisance when trying to do anything that requires that finger to touch my middle finger. I assume it is poison ivy. I am counting my blessings in the fact that it hasn't spread. Having poison ivy between your fingers (and toes) is probably one of the worst place -- other than the obvious places -- to get that itchy rash.

To add to all of that, last night when slicing up a red pepper, I sliced my finger as well. With a little pressure, some cold water, Neosporin and a band-aid, there isn't very much wrong with it. But it did hurt last night. The flap of skin is still attached, and it really isn't that deep.

The funny thing? I had just been joking with myself about having fingers wrapped in the enchiladas. I guess I knew that I wasn't cutting the vegetables in the best way possible, but I couldn't be bothered with switching it up -- until I almost lost a finger.

So putting everything together was complicated that I couldn't get my left hand fingers involved too much because I wanted to keep the poison ivy finger out of the mix. And the bleeding finger on my right hand had to be kept elevated and separate too. I was doing everything with seven fingers. Because without the ring finger in the action, the pink is pretty much worthless, too. It was pretty ridiculous.

Today, the cut is looking pretty good, and my other finger isn't itching as bad. The roof of my mouth seems to be healing as well...

Lucky me.

In better news, I got my plane ticket for Scotland! There had been talk about going to Ireland too, but we stuck with Scotland. I'm pretty excited.