Well guys... It happened. I actually went on a date again! There's hope for me yet. All week, since receiving his answer, I have doubted, and stressed, and generally freaked out. I was worried that although he wrote this:
He really meant this: "Of all the fishies in the sea... Why the heck did ya have to choose me?! NO!"
I'm just grateful that he hid his disgust well. Otherwise Sadies would have stunk. But it didn't stunk! In fact, it was awesome!!
The night before, I made a lovely little tutu, because I was told everyone was wearing one. So I made it blue and poofy to match my blue and un-poofy shirt, and it was fabulous.
Then came The Night. I frantically did my nails in an adorable Cookie Monster design- SOFREAKINGHARDTODO. I painstakingly painted my right hand with utter skill and perfection, and then moved on to my left. I had to redo it twice, but finally I had it ready. Then I smeared it. Then I screamed and tried not to cry. Then I had my mommy fix it for me since I was at my wit's end. Here's the design:
SUPER cruddy picture, I know, but I took it on my phone. Don't judge. It looked cuter in real life, okay?
I finished getting ready, just barely in time for Sarah to show up. I ran out the door, pulling on my shoes and stuffing my mascara in my purse. The tutu was forsaken in the mad rush, and it was okay because Sarah didn't have one either. Oh well. We sped on over to Chandler's house and I shyly knocked on the door. Country music was blaring from the house, and there were no cars in the driveway. I got nervous. I knocked louder, and still nobody answered. A couple shouts emanated from the house, however, scaring me half to death in the process. Sarah came over and started knocking on windows- she even tried to just open the door at one point, but I shoved her back in the car. I couldn't screw this up! He didn't know me well enough, and I didn't want his only memory of this night to be me walking unceremoniously into his house to find him dancing to Taylor Swift in his skivvies- of course, I'm sure he doesn't do that, but on the off chance that he does, I didn't want to be unpleasantly surprised. Ugh. So I went back to the car, slightly deflated and wondering if I would be doomed to go stag on this date. But hope was not lost! We'd come over half an hour before I said I would pick him up, so we simply drove over to Sarah's date's house to pick him up. There we laughed, and enjoyed ourselves until the time came to pick Chandler up for real. Then we were off to Polar Ice! I was afraid that Chandler would feel awkward, but he seemed to enjoy himself- turns out he actually knows Clint! (Sarah's date)
We got to Polar Ice, and got our skates on. I was instantly amazed at how easy it was- walking on the carpet in ice skates. I would have this skating thing in the bag!
Boy, was I wrong.
We stepped out on the ice, and I immediately lost all sense of balance I thought I had. I clung to the wall desperately, and skated nervously around. Chandler began skating without the wall almost as soon as he was on the ice- he long boards, so apparently that means he has mad balance skillz.
Whatever. As soon as he got the hang of it, he took in my sad predicament and helped me out by holding my hand. It was nice that he wasn't completely repulsed by me, to the point of actually venturing to take my hand. It was comforting, in a way, having someone to lean on (and I really mean lean on- turns out his mad balance skillz translate into being able to hold up my wobbly crazy self on the ice). And he caught me whenever I fell (all twelve times!), and even though I squeezed his hand hard enough that he commented "You're really strong!" (translation: I would yank my hand out of your death-grip, but I'm too much of a gentleman), he never let go of me. Soo nice. And I don't mean that as in, ooh, yummy, he's touching my phalanges, because that's not what I was thinking at all. Okay, maybe I got a little fluttery inside when he put his hand around my waist to steady me, but who wouldn't?? So we skated, and then skated some more, and then I fell, and then the Zamboni came out to smooth down the ice we had mercilessly shredded.
Picture time! Because what's a school dance without a cheesily over-posed picture of you and your hot date? I warned him on the way that we would be posed like Barbie's and he accepted. We walked in, and I proved him right! I almost had to put my hand on his chest (gagagagagagagagGAG), but I saved the day and we just did a hands-on-hips.
The rest of the date went like clockwork, and I got a gnarly bruise. Here's pics:
We're holding hands (sshh don't tell)
Isn't he CUTE? All in all, it was a fabulous night, full of slipping, falling, and Chinese firedrills.