October 19, 2000

dating

Well, that's one hurdle down.

With the urgent pushing and pulling of my sister, who kept swatting me under the dinner table last night for unknown reasons, I ventured forth into the world of First Dates, New People, and Life as a Single 20-something.

I already hate it, and I'm barely in the water.

Insofar as first dates go, I'm told, it wasn't that bad. The guy was nice enough, I suppose, though he didn't have much to say for himself; it was frustratingly hard to get him into conversation, as he seemed extremely loathe to participate in what was being tossed around the table.

"He's quiet," my sister said weakly, while we were stalking our ways to his apartment to have dessert.

"Hm."

She thwarted my every attempt to go home early; I had stuff to do, and little time to do it -- homework kept intruding in on every thought I was having -- and pretty much forced me to go with them to get dessert at his apartment.

I was bored. I was. That is, I like hanging out with my sister and her boyfriend, but in all other respects, bleh. I would've had a more enjoyable time hanging out with my roommate and Vacuum Man, though I hadn't managed to get back home in time to meet up at the bar with them. Smurfette, eyes bright with interest, was waiting for us when we got back. She listened to my sister's raving excitement, -- which seemed a little more enthusiastic than was really called for; one would think that I'd swum across the English Channel using an ice-cream spoon, or bought back Tibet -- and congratulated her. Congratulated her. Ptooey.

So now I've tried dating, found it shallow and dull, and am ready to learn contact juggling.

I have to find a new apartment before the end of November.

The word is official, as of today; my roommate says she can no longer afford to live in San Francisco. Who can, really? I'm wondering if she'll be able to find a cheaper rent in Silicon Valley, which is where she's headed. It doesn't matter; our roommate-ship is over, insofar as I'm aware, so it's time for me to pack my bags and head for southern hills. She left a message on my phone machine to tell me that she'd looked at the lease, and that if we give our thirty-day notice at the end of October, we've already paid our last month's rent so we'll be okay for another month, at least. That gives me 45 days. Surely that's enough time, isn't it?

I've done some exploring on rent.net already, and hit up several people at work for leads. They're now required to help me find an apartment; if they don't, I've threatened to drive them insane. They know I can do it, too. This is not an idle threat.

I'll call Tara tonight and see if she's willing to drive me around at some point during the weekend. Ho hum. There are better ways to spend one's weekends, that's for sure. Has to be done. C'est la vie.