speed dating, part deux

As promised. Albeit slightly delayed.

The premise: 4 minutes per date; keep track of your yes/no responses for each date as to whether or not you want to see them again. Afterwards in the safety of your own home, fill in your yes/no responses online and find out with whom you matched. This is a 25-35 year old event. Shhh don't tell.

Timeline of events:

A's friend ("K") was the organizer, so we get in for free. I am here for kicks and moral support. $5 mojitos and two separate name-tag stickers later, (one for your name, one for your assigned speed dating number) we're like cattle being herded off.

Date #1: I forget to write down his number at the end of the 4 minutes. Oops. That one was lost forever in the online match system.

Date #3: I've gotten this speed dating thing down to an exact science. Hi, what do you do? Where are you from? What do you enjoy doing for fun? Randomly insert smiles, nods, and "Oh, that's great."

Date #?: Shy fidgety guy with a nervous tic (keeps blinking/winking in one eye) sits down and says nothing. I use my friendliest smile and try to keep conversation flowing. He finally says he's here because women are guaranteed to talk to him for 4 minutes. I am profoundly sad. This is also the most awkward 4 minutes of my life.

Date #[halfway through]: I realize that these guys are actually writing down my name and notes to help them remember me. Thus far I have only been circling yes or no beside each number. And by circling "yes or no," I really mean circling no. Hey, I said I was here for moral support.

Date #?: Burly Sopranos-hit-man looking guy glances at me and immediately and obviously circles yes before I even introduce myself. Goes off about his extensive law career and divorce law. Flashes his enormous ring and watch. I didn't know people like this existed outside of movies.

Date #?: Emergency Medicine resident from NY. Loves classical music and is genuinely interested in my former violin career. We discuss favorite music, NY hangouts, and the ballet we both happened to see last wkd. Also, he looks uh, older. This feels like dating my dad (okay not MY dad, but a father/mentor figure). Too weird.

Date #[towards the end]: Cute interesting guy ("N"). He's K's friend who graciously filled in at the last minute to even out the guy/girl ratio. He's not here to hook up, but then neither am I. He's a chemical(?) engineer by day and photographer (www.printsagainstpoverty.com) by night. He has humanitarian worldviews and ridiculously blue eyes. I circle yes out of curiosity to see if we match later.

Date #12: The end. Overall, these were (mostly) really nice guys, all professional, well-mannered, but maybe a bit shy or too busy with work to really go out and meet people. They would probably make some nice woman a nice boyfriend. Just not for me.

N asks us if we want to head out for tapas, drinks, and dancing with him, K, and K's boyfriend. We go and have drinks (it IS Alice's birthday after all). N is really cool but is sort of off-limits given the circumstances (i.e. he wasn't really there to meet people, right?).

I fill in my 11 responses online 4 days later. Sadly, Date #1 really is lost in the system forever. I match with N. Surprisingly, I'm shown who said yes to me even though I said no (which defeats the purpose of the safety of online match, doesn't it?) 11 said yes.

speed dating

Tonight I went speed-dating. I have officially become one of "those" people. Now before you judge, know that:

1) it was not my idea
2) it was free, instead of the usual $30(!) fee
3) A's friend organized it, and she really wanted to go. I am easily convinced to do ridiculous things on an otherwise quiet random Wednesday night.
4) I thought there would be at least a few funny stories to come of it.

At least number 4 is very true. It was indeed amusing. I am tired now, but rest assured, stories to come later.

i'm in med school? oh right

Today I will crack open my endocrinology syllabus for the first time, now that it is the halfway point in the time course of this class. There is one final exam determining our entire grade in this course. I have not gone to class or studied or done anything academically related for a week. Mostly this is what I have been doing recently:

-drinking (heavily)
-gambling/drinking in Shreveport
-sleeping
-eating
-cheering for the Spurs
-cooking
-MS1 Carrel Games (a.k.a. field day elementary school style). I was our carrel's captain! And we won!
-learned how to SAVE LIVES (while hungover... oops). Don't worry, I Heimliched and CPRed with full force. Maybe my breath was still slightly alcoholic, but I inflated that dummy's lungs like whoa. This is probably the one useful "medical" skill I have learned all year (i.e. the skills people expect you to have when they panic and scream "Is there a doctor in the house?")
-went to a dressy dinner and the ballet on Saturday
-cooked/drank wine at a professor's house on Sunday

Yeah, I'm just classy like that. Except for the heavy drinking part. Now I will study, but my hand feels clumsy and a bit dysfunctional from the WEEK of study-less atrophy. I ain't writing real good right now.

monday

... is the new Thursday. Although even that is a dated reference, because let's face it, my Thursdays are invariably lame. As well as Saturdays. And every other day except Monday. Why, you ask? Because some guy somewhere high up in the chain of command here decided that most of our exams should be scheduled on Mondays. I can't even remember the last time I was out at a bar on a Friday or Saturday, but there's plenty of interesting Monday debauchery.

More interesting still: until the Med School Monday phenomenon began, I sort of assumed that the majority of the world lives on a Mon-Fri work, Thurs-Sat party schedule. Now I see that I severely underestimated the sleazy dudes of the world. They stay until last call, all while unbuttoning the top few buttons of their black pinstripe collared shirts (worn with dark jeans, of course. And shiny black shoes. And hair product overload. Don't forget the overblown, completely unwarranted confidence in their womanizer skills). Anyway, it's a good thing I'm female, because instead of being questionable Monday-night-alone-at-a-bar dude, I have the option of being desperate stand-on-the-bar-and-shout-who-wants-to-take-care-of-my-tab girl.*

*This is a true story. It happened last night. The girl was SO not hot. It was a $7.50 tab.

men

Sun + beer + chlorine in eyes = sleepy

At today's bbq:

Jo: "I need a househusband to cook and clean for me."
Phat: "Wow cool, I want to BE a househusband. My wife can bring home the cash."
Jo: "Hey that's great, wanna be my househusband?"
Phat: "Yeah that sounds awesome. Ok first things first, get me a beer."
Jo: "What? YOU'RE the househusband!"
Phat: "So?? I'm still the husband!"

...men