<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385</id><updated>2012-02-16T00:26:17.965-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Series of Unfortunate Events</title><subtitle type='html'>I'm bad at dating. So when I go out with people that are bad at dating, 
this is what we get...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-4203144804938195902</id><published>2009-11-23T06:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T06:58:52.448-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Society</title><content type='html'>This past week i have been staying at my parents house and taking care of my little brothers because my parents went on a week long cruise. It has been interesting. Perhaps because I have been seeing old neighbors again and they still wonder why I am 25 and not married. For example, I recieved this phonecall the other day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Hello&lt;br /&gt;Neighbor: Hey, who's this?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Doree&lt;br /&gt;Neighbor: Oh hey! Is your mom or dad there?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: No, sorry, they are away for a week and won't be home until Tuesday morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Neighbor: &lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Oh that's okay, I'll try them later. But&lt;/span&gt; hey, how are you?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: I am doing good. How are you?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Neighbor: Are you married yet?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: Well no...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Neighbor: Well how good can you be then?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: Well possibly better than if I were.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (I tried to think of a good comeback.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then proceeded to talk more about marriage and he tried to convince me that I needed it in my life RIGHT NOW and I tried to convince him that I was honestly still happy and fine and that I have the rest of eternity to be married so I would be okay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you people in society for deciding that since I am not married I am not as happy as I could otherwise be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(P.S. YOU DON'T KNOW ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-4203144804938195902?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/4203144804938195902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=4203144804938195902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/4203144804938195902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/4203144804938195902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2009/11/society.html' title='Society'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-1370625302735982804</id><published>2009-11-06T06:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T09:17:18.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No he didn't!... Yes... he did.</title><content type='html'>I got this text from my friend. It was a forward and said, &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Be careful if you make a woman cry, because God counts her tears. The woman came from a mans rib. Not from his feet to be walked on. Not from his head to be superior, but from the side to be equal. Under the arm to be protected, and next to the heart to be loved. Pass this on to all the exceptional women that you know... men too so they know the value of a woman is... PRICELESS. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;I thought that it was funny and cute and the only person I thought about sending it to was my boyfriend because he is the only one that I talk to and basically the only person that I text. So I said, "I just got this text from kj. Be careful about making me cry." My intents were purely casual and I was just teasing about the whole thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT the text I got back was, &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;"Oh sorry.... I cant help it women are more emotional than men. I dont think like but i hate it to see you crying. You think i want to break up with you a lot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;(He had just talked about breaking up 2 days prior.) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Man up... I dont want to break up with you at all. So i wish you would accept that and maybe we can move on to the next step someday."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51);"&gt;WHOA!!!!! Um... how do you take that? A little harsh? Maybe I am being more emotional again but it kinda hurt. "Man up!?" Okay... whatever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-1370625302735982804?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/1370625302735982804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=1370625302735982804' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/1370625302735982804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/1370625302735982804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2009/11/no-he-didnt-yes-he-did.html' title='No he didn&apos;t!... Yes... he did.'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-4718824513749544791</id><published>2009-04-21T06:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T07:07:59.767-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends or More than Friends?</title><content type='html'>Has anyone ever had the same problem that I continue to have over and over and over again?! How do you know when someone likes you or when they want to be just friends? It seems I have always got it wrong. When I think someone likes me, it usually turns out they just wanna be friends. But when I think they just wanna be friends, turns out they like me. Ugh and Oooiii! There is no reasoning behind dating sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Mike and I started hanging out I thought he liked me, turns out, he says he didn't. But he always says he thinks I was in love with him back when we first met, and I wasn't. So maybe we were both wrong. But even when he asked me to go to dinner - on what I thought was our first date, turns out it wasn't a date! He just wanted to hang out again. But he ask only me to go where as up until that point it had always been my friends and I hanging out with him and his friends. But he didn't say you &amp;amp; your friends, he said, "you." So this exclusive dinner was not a date. Whatever. BUT it was around that time that he had decided he liked me and wanted to pursue the relationship!?!!? Hmmmm.... Someone really needs to clarify what a date is and what it is not so you can know how a person feels about you before you go all out on a limb for them. Actually I think that they have said a date is something that is: planned ahead, paired off, and paid for. And that is what happened at the Olive Garden that night, but Mike cliams it was not a date. STUPID. (I am a little bugged by it, can ya tell!?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, there is this boy at work who keeps asking me to go do things with him. He wants to go swimming or bowling, at least once a week. I have said, "No... I'm busy... (with school or work or moving or out of town or family etc. etc. etc.)" probably honestly more than 50 times. I guess the fact that I keep giving an excuse keeps allowing him to ask. BUT here is the thing, I would go because I think he wants to go as just friends. So when Mike is at work, why not? Because apparently it doesn't have to be a date. At the same time Mike thinks that he likes me and wants me to tell him that I have a boyfriend... Would that be awkward for me to say, "I have a boyfriend." and make our co-worker status awkward because I would have been treating him as if he likes me and he was just asking me to hang out as a co-worker friend?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does all this make sense? I guess I am just venting because I never know how you can tell the difference and I wish someone would just enlighten me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-4718824513749544791?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/4718824513749544791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=4718824513749544791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/4718824513749544791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/4718824513749544791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2009/04/friends-or-more-than-friends.html' title='Friends or More than Friends?'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-8945478942569421223</id><published>2009-04-08T07:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T08:04:29.444-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Strike of Bad Luck!</title><content type='html'>Well it's been 4 months that mike and i have been dating. and 3 of those 4 months i have gotten tickets. :^( In December I was parked at his house after 1 am watching a movie and because of the whole snow plow thing here you aren't supposed to be on the road that late. So BOOM the cop gave me a ticket. In January I was driving him home at like 1 am and a cop pulled up behind us. it was dark, but apparently he could still see that my registration was expired. BOO! And just barely i was talking to mike on the phone not paying attention to what is happening around me and the cop follows me into my apartment complex and says I was going 41 in a 25. :( He said, i was following you for a while... i don't know if i believe that but anyhow... i have gotten 3 tickets while having mike on the brain. That'll teach me something right!? NO MAS!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-8945478942569421223?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/8945478942569421223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=8945478942569421223' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/8945478942569421223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/8945478942569421223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2009/04/strike-of-bad-luck.html' title='Strike of Bad Luck!'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-7079952039103396539</id><published>2009-03-09T13:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T13:13:39.572-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dang! Does it get better than this!?</title><content type='html'>So I have been accused of not putting anything good up on my blog. BUT... the title is 911 dating. The point of it was kinda horror dating stories, but i decided to post something good. The reason why I haven't posted in a while is because I have started dating just one guy pretty exclusively. He is pretty dang cute and has so many wonderful qualities. He makes me feel special too! Here are some stories of what he does to make me feel loved:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He listens to me and then surprises me by acting on the things that I say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, one night we went to a church social where they were eating soup and playing games. We were talking to one of the older ladies and she was telling us about the movie, "Australia" that they had just gone to see in the theater. I said, "Oh! Did you like it?! I have been wanting to see that..." and we just kept talking. Mike picked up on this and that Saturday invited me to watch "Australia" with him. (It was before we were officially dating.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another time I had just gotten off work and we were talking on the phone. I was telling him that at the home I had just visited they were watching, "The Express." I said, "I watched part of it and it made me want to see it so bad! It's a true story and I love true stories..." I told him a little bit about it but then didn't think too much of it until that weekend when he said, "Hey, what if we get together and I rent 'The Express'."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think over and over to myself, "Awe!!!! He really listens to what I say and then he acts on it!!!" Does it get any better than that!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes... yes it does! Mike had to work one Thursday night so we hung out in the afternoon. He dropped me off at my apartment at 6 and headed to work and I got in my car and headed straight to our school for a meeting. A few hours later he texted me and asked how the meeting was. I told him, "it was fine, but nothing great. However getting to campus was a pain because of traffic! Did you know that there was a basketball game tonight!? I had no idea and I love watching basketball games. I can't believe I missed it." Now Mike loves college football but he isn't really that keen on watching college basketball. So he is a Senior, graduating in 2 months and has never been to one of our college basketball games. He didn't say much about it that night but a couple days later one of my friends came up from out of town. Mike had to work that night so we all went out to lunch together. As we were walking out he said, "Oh, I looked at the schedule and there is a basketball game next Thursday, do you want to go together!?" I was like, "YES!!!!!" Honestly, isn't that the sweetest thing!? For him to know how bummed I was to miss it, to look up the next game, and to plan on coming with me!? Love him!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-7079952039103396539?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/7079952039103396539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=7079952039103396539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/7079952039103396539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/7079952039103396539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2009/03/dang-does-it-get-better-than-this.html' title='Dang! Does it get better than this!?'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-2770169665396615902</id><published>2009-03-01T12:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T13:14:07.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Prince</title><content type='html'>I have always sworn that I have the best brother's in the world. They are first incredibly cute and fun and second, they have really picked up on how to treat girls. Ever since my brothers were young they would always open doors for us girls and this has continued up to this day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents were out of town a couple weeks ago and so I decided to go out to dinner with my little brother while my other little brother was at a birthday party. He asked if he could drive me and I said, "Sure." and threw him my keys. I headed out the door first and walked to the passenger side of my car. He ran to catch up to me and got to the door right before me and opened it for me. It was important for him to get every door for me that night and to treat me special. I loved it. It made me think of all the past times we have gone out and how he has always done that. In the past I have dated guys who have never once opened the door for me and it actually has been a sour spot in the relationship. When I was younger i always thought, "I can do it myself, I don't need a guy to open it for me!" But since I have come to appreciate the respect and kindness that comes from the men opening the doors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kudos to all who do that! And thanks little brother for that reminder of how I should be treated!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-2770169665396615902?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/2770169665396615902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=2770169665396615902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/2770169665396615902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/2770169665396615902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2009/03/little-prince.html' title='A Little Prince'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-1771308885772383837</id><published>2009-01-20T08:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T08:34:44.767-08:00</updated><title type='text'>tricky tricky</title><content type='html'>So &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;there is a basketball player&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, that's usually how all good dates start out right!? ;^) After the basketball players last home game I just went to my friends house to chill. At about 10:00 when the guys were done with the coach pep talk and were able to leave I got a text from one of the players (they call them players for a reason), Matt. Matt and I had been talking for a while but we haven't done TONS together. He was going to a after-party to watch his teammates drink &amp;amp; smoke (but he doesn't do that) and I was just going to stay with my friend. So at &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;about 11:00&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; as I was getting ready to go home and go to bed he texted and asked if I would come over. I was like, "Really!? At 11:00? There isn't much to do at that time of night." But he persisted. I said, "I couldn't because I had to wake up early for church the next morning." After some more texts of insisting and rejection he said, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"If you come over, I will go to church with you tomorrow."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Well being the missionary oriented person I like to be he had me. I was like, "OK!" So I went over. I told him though that nothing would be happening that evening between us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat on the couch and we started chatting, talking about the game, etc., and then when I was in &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000066;"&gt;mid-sentence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; (yet again) he goes in for the kill and just starts kissing me. Fine. Why do boys do that?! I stopped him and I said, "Whoa, whoa! I told you nothing was going to happen tonight." I told him that I didn't like that he asked me to come over at 11:00 and that it made me feel like a booty call even though I never give him any of that. He laughed and he said, "You are not a booty call!" So I was like, "Fine." and we kissed. He kept stopping every now and then to laugh and say, "Booty call!? HAHA I can't believe you thought you were! &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You mean more to me than that.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;" (whatever.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we talked alot that night then I left to go home and go to sleep and I told him I would pick him up on my way to church. He said he couldn't come anymore because he needed his beauty sleep. LIAR!!!! I was like, "WHAT!?" We talked about it and he was not coming. Lame butt!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he texted me the next day and did ask how church was. I said, "great. only 3 hours and it really flew by!" These are the texts he sent, "I don't kno how u can say only 3 houRS cuz for me it's so freakin long" I said, "Really!? Did it seem like that long last night?" He said, "Don't even try to compare last night with church. &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If church was like that I would go all day all sundays!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAHA! There is a new aspect to missionary work except for the fact that it didn't get him to church! ;^) Here is where the story gets lame. I am done with athlete's. NO MORE!!!! So after repeatedly telling me I was not a booty call. At least two weeks went by before I heard from him again. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Dang player&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-1771308885772383837?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/1771308885772383837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=1771308885772383837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/1771308885772383837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/1771308885772383837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2009/01/tricky-tricky.html' title='tricky tricky'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-7923441942213018536</id><published>2009-01-16T09:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T07:57:14.589-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Girls Like Guys That Treat Them Like Crap!?!?!?!</title><content type='html'>Okay I have had some girls admit to me that they like the guys that treat them like crap for some reason. They don't know why, but they do. Maybe for the vast majority of us though, we don't. Last night I was hanging out with some guys and a couple of them said this. And I said, "That's &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;not true&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!" And they were pretty adimant, "Oh yes it is!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I wanted to create a post for them that shows how there is nothing better than a thoughtful guy! Ya, tough little rebels are great but knowing he cares just makes it that much better. So here are some lame, but valid points of the argument:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;SCENARIO #1&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I went out with David who I WAS NOT interested in, I recieved this text:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hope that ur day is well and that the flowers that would come to your mind as u read this come from me"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO CHEESY but cute. Although I didn't like him, his thoughtfulness made me wish I liked him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SCENARIO #2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over Christmas I got a retail job. You know, helping customer's, etc. One day an old couple came in and I began talking to them, being all friendly, and trying to help them. At some point in the conversation I asked them where they were from. Turns out they were from the same city as my grandparents so I asked them if they knew them and they said yes! Turns out it's my grandma's best friend. So later my grandma called me and said that the lady wanted to set me up with her grandson and how she hadn't been able to stop thinking about it since she met me. So I said, "Why not!?" He lived two hours away so I didn't really think it would happen but he drove up! We went ice skating and it was fun. He didn't really seem like my type but when he asked if I wanted to go out again I said, sure. (I always give people at least two chances...) During the night as we were getting to know each other he asked what I liked to do. I said I liked to go snoeshoeing but i don't go often because I don't have snowshoes... Well for our next date he asked if I wanted to go snowshoeing and he stopped at Cabella's on his two hour drive to my house and bought snowshoes! I was like DANG! Although after the date I still didn't feel like it would go anywhere so I told him, I did want to like him SO BAD just because of his thoughtfulness and the fact that he really did listen to what I said!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how many the men want to know that girls like it when they are NOT treated like crap, I have got more - but this post might be kinda boring... but here are some other idea's that guys have done and it has made me like them so much more....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*When a girl is sick - taking over a gatorade or can of soup and whatever cold medicine you have in your cupboard (even if it's not the whole box or bottle) with a note written on lined paper that says, "Get Well Soon"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Call when you know that the girl will be gone (or can't answer the cell) and leave a message saying, "Hey I was just thinking about you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Leave a post-it on her mirror saying how beautiful she looks today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't really think of tons right now but hey, if anyone else has anything to add to the girls don't like it when guys treat them like crap idea - let these boys know and comment! And if you have cute things boys have done that made you like them more... do share, please! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-7923441942213018536?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/7923441942213018536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=7923441942213018536' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/7923441942213018536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/7923441942213018536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2009/01/girls-like-guys-that-treat-them-like.html' title='Girls Like Guys That Treat Them Like Crap!?!?!?!'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-8268570809737788698</id><published>2009-01-14T17:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T17:19:59.708-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jay Leno First Date - Beats all mine!</title><content type='html'>If you didn't see this on the Tonight Show, this is probably the funniest date story ever, first date or not!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jay Leno went into the audience to find the most embarrassing first date that a woman ever had. The winner described her worst first-date experience. There was absolutely no question as to why her tale took the prize! She said it was midwinter . Snowing and quite cold ... And the guy had taken her skiing in the mountains outside Salt Lake City , Utah . It was a day trip (no overnight). They were strangers, after all, and truly had never met before. The outing was fun but relatively uneventful until they were headed home late that afternoon. They were driving back down the mountain, when she began to realize that she should not have had that extra latte They were about an hour away from anywhere with a rest room and in the middle of nowhere. Her companion suggested she try to hold it, which she did for a while. Unfortunately, because of the heavy snow and slow going, there came a point where she told him that he had better stop and let her go beside the road, or it would be the front seat of his car. They stopped and she quickly crawled out beside the car, yanked her pants down and started. In the deep snow she didn't have good footing, so she let her butt rest against the rear fender to steady herself. Her companion stood on the other side of the car watching for traffic and indeed was a real gentleman and refrained from peeking. All she could think about was the relief she felt despite the rather embarrassing nature of the situation. Upon finishing, however she soon became aware of another sensation. As she bent to pull up her pants, the young lady discovered her buttocks were firmly glued against the car's fender. Thoughts of tongues frozen to po les immediately came to mind as she attempted to disengage her f les h from the icy metal. It was quickly apparent that she had a brand new problem due to the extreme cold. Horrified by her plight and yet aware of the humor of the moment, she answered her date's concerns about 'what is taking so long' with a reply that indeed, she was 'freezing her butt off' and in need of some assistance. He came around the car as she tried to cover herself with her sweater and then, as she looked imploringly into his eyes, he burst out laughing. She too, got the giggles and when they finally managed to compose themselves, they assessed her dilemma. Obviously, as hysterical as the situation was, they also were faced with a real problem. Both agreed it would take something hot to free her chilly cheeks From the grip of the icy metal. Thinking about what had gotten her into the predicament in the first place, both quickly realized that there was only one way to get her free. So, as she looked the other way her first-time date proceeded to unzip his pants and pee her butt off the fender. As the audience screamed in laughter, she took the Tonight Show prize hands down. Or perhaps that should be 'pants down'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jay Leno's comment: 'This gives a whole new meaning to being pissed off.'&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and how did the first date turn out? He became her husband and was sitting next to her on the Leno show.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-8268570809737788698?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/8268570809737788698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=8268570809737788698' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/8268570809737788698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/8268570809737788698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2009/01/jay-leno-first-date-beats-all-mine.html' title='Jay Leno First Date - Beats all mine!'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-1547387025625927609</id><published>2008-12-22T07:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T08:05:56.218-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My very own Chris Kirkpatrick</title><content type='html'>Every girl has that one boy that is their fetish right!? For me it has always been Chris Kirkpatrick from *NSYNC. For my friends, it has been since the frist Twilight book came out Edward. These men are perfect, flawless, completely untouchable and desired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well in the real world we have all had crushes for various amounts of time on boys we see around where we live. But these are not crushes on people that we have met, talk to and go out with, these are crushes we watch from afar. Haha. Yes kinda creeper-like or even stalkerish but you have to admit, y'all do it too. We always imagine these boys being perfect, just like our fetish's. So imagine how you would feel when somehow you actually meet Chris Kirkpatrick or Edward (or the boy you have been watching for a year) and go out with them! Well we have all pretty much randomly met out little fetish's, ended up going out with them and this is the conclusion we have come to: Vampire's don't exist and boy band members really do decide they are gay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how perfect the boy is in everything you see him do, when you go out with him - that perfectness disappears. Then what do you do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-1547387025625927609?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/1547387025625927609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=1547387025625927609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/1547387025625927609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/1547387025625927609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-very-own-chris-kirkpatrick.html' title='My very own Chris Kirkpatrick'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-4519894044045709440</id><published>2008-12-22T01:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T07:52:42.668-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Single!? That's all that matters!</title><content type='html'>Because I am 24 and not married, or dating anyone at this point, many people have been "called" to find my one true love. This is how it goes, I meet someone, they ask if I am dating anyone, I say nobody specific, and they say, "Oh I know someone I should set you up with... &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;they are single too!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Perfect. Nothing else matters!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-4519894044045709440?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/4519894044045709440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=4519894044045709440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/4519894044045709440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/4519894044045709440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2008/10/single-thats-all-that-matters.html' title='Single!? That&apos;s all that matters!'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-6415243664157206501</id><published>2008-12-21T07:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T12:12:07.847-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Part 2 - Moving Fast</title><content type='html'>I never went out with David again... and a year, a full year after going out with him the first time I ran into him at a dance party. Touchy feely, touchy feely... all over again. It just must be his culture. Does anyone know... is that what they do in England? But I don't know, if I don't know someone too well, I am not so into that... oh well. &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Maybe if I were into him I would be into that...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During our dance party conversation he brought up (the first of many many times) how I left him so quickly on the doorstep and wouldn't give him the time of day after that. Um, apparently not giving him the time of day includes talking to him at the dance party. Obviously he was wrong about that. Anyways, we talked about the date and I brought up the electronic whoopi cushion. He said he had no idea James was doing that. He believed at first that I was sitting there in the 4-Runner farting.... Great... Well we talked for a while and all the sudden Thanksgiving popped into my head. And I guess at the same time that I thought, "He is from England so he probably has no where to go on Thanksgiving." I invited him to come with me &amp;amp; my family to Thanksgiving dinner. He agreed and then I thought, "Shoot. What did I get myself into?" To me meeting the family can just be &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a fun friend type thing&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. But then other people think it means something more and that it is serious. But I figured if we haven't gone out for a year, how much can it mean? So I quickly followed up with, "Well let me make sure it is gonna be in town. If it's here you can totally come, but if it isn't you probably won't want to travel to my grandma's with my family so I will just let you know." Good out I thought. Now I can think about it and not be committed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I felt bad about that and realized that he really did have no where else to go so he might as well come with me. He did and we had a fine time. We ate the turkey dinner, talked about the food differences from here and England and then we played some basketball. (That's what my family loves to do after eating.) He was great. Fun to be around, polite, and just genuine. But &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I still didn't develop any feelings&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; more than that for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my way to pick him up (he hasn't gotten a U.S. drivers license yet), I stopped by a store to buy "27 Dresses" so I was late to get him. After dinner I dropped him off at his house and said, "Thanks for coming." He gave me a hug and said, "Thanks for inviting me." I went back with my family and hung out a little bit more. I got a text a little later that said, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I don't know about you but I wouldn't mind watching 27 Dresses tonight."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I was like, "Ok, I have nothing else to do I will let you know when I'm on my way over..." I ended up letting my family borrow 27 Dresses but he still wanted to watch a movie so we pulled out "Hitch." Good ol' Hitch. I told him that everything in this movie was way true and that if a guy wanted to know what a girl thought, they just needed to watch the movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We were far enough apart during the movie&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; that there would appear to be nothing going on. I even invited my roommate in and she watched it with us. At the point in the movie where Alex Hitchins was explaining that if a girl fumbles with her keys she wants you to kiss her vs. opening the door right away means, nope sorry. I said, "That is so true! That is just so right on the dot, it's crazy!" He just looked at me and said, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Remember how fast you went inside the night we went out?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I was like, "Shoot! Awkward." I think i said, "Well... uh... my roommates really needed me that night..." I did not tell him that James kept lying to me and telling me he was going to kiss me b/c that's what they do in their culture not did I tell him that James had been lying to him. Because at the exact moments he was telling me that David would kiss me he was telling David that I wanted to be kissed... Ya... this is why I didn't talk to him for a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drove him home and as he was getting out of the car he leaned over to give me another thank you hug. I was &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;in the middle&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; of saying, "Thanks again for coming to Thanksgiv..." when &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;he kissed me right on my open talking mouth!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; AAAHHHHH!!!!! That was such a surprise. I didn't know what to do except kiss him back. Oh shoot. This is where dating gets complicated because people do stuff that they don't really mean... (I aways say I am NOT good at dating.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well we kissed for a minute and I looked up and saw that &lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;his garage door was open&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and then I noticed the &lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;headlights shining in the back window of my car&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. SHOOT!!!! His uncle was patiently waiting behind my car to pull into the driveway. I got so flustered because I am sure the uncle saw us kiss I said, "David! Get out! Get out right now!" He just sat there and said, "Doree, just move the car over to the other side of the driveway..." I did like &lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a 50 point turnabout&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; just reversing and pulling forward trying to get the car to the other side of the driveway. His uncle FINALLY drove past and I still kept telling David to just get out of the car and that what we did was not good. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;He admitted that it was his first time ever kissing someone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; (he is 21!) and that made me feel even worse. &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I felt horrible horrible horrible!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Well then I tell him to get out again, I said &lt;span style="color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;it wasn't the kissing that not good.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; It was me! I just needed to go. I looked up and &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;his uncle was watching us out the garage window.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Ugh! Again I am flustered and I am like, "Go inside, please, just get out of the car." He calmly told me that he had a great evening and went inside. His uncle opened the garage door and was peaking around house at him as he was unlocking the front door that's the last thing I saw as I drove away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-6415243664157206501?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/6415243664157206501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=6415243664157206501' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/6415243664157206501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/6415243664157206501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2008/12/part-2-moving-fast.html' title='Part 2 - Moving Fast'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-5165968449929053128</id><published>2008-12-18T06:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-18T13:51:08.370-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Part 1 -  Bowling &amp; Farts</title><content type='html'>My friends husband has decided that it is his calling in life to find me my husband. He is always bound and determine to set me up with one or another of his friends... So this time he set me up with a boy from England. A chocolate boy. Mmmmm. Love them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days before the date he kept telling me: &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Where he is from, they like to kiss on the first date... So be prepared to kiss him..."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I was like, "Ahhh! No!" (I am not an easy kisser.) But he kept bringing it up over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They came to get me and David came to the door. We went bowling and out for ice cream. David got very touchy feely during bowling and decided that &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;we needed to be really close&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. It was awkward for me as I had just met him. It takes me a while to feel comfortable with people, like I want to know them before anything happens. He was pretty confident and apparently feels pretty comfortable right off the bat... good for him - not for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way to bowling &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;there was a farting noise&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; coming from the backseat where David and I were sitting. My friends husband said, "Doree!" I was like, "It was not me!" &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;The farting persisted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; every now and then in &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a nice rhythm&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and even my friend joined in claiming it was coming from me and it had to be me because that's the direction of the sound. Ugh. Good friend. It continued after bowling on our way to ice cream and then again from ice cream to my house. The seat was rigged. David was looking at me like, "huh?" They were making a big commotion and I was making a big commotion of denial and the sounds every so often persisted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally when we reached my house I jumped out and started looking around my seat. James, my friends husband, had put an &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;electronic whoopi cushion&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; sounder thing under my seat! So he just had to push a button from the driver's seat and it would sound like it was coming from me. LAME!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David walked me to the door and I hurried inside. Who does that on a first date?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BLAH!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-5165968449929053128?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/5165968449929053128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=5165968449929053128' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/5165968449929053128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/5165968449929053128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2008/10/part-1-bowling-farts.html' title='Part 1 -  Bowling &amp; Farts'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-6648812195015102668</id><published>2008-12-09T06:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T06:58:24.361-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mo blind date problems at the corn maze</title><content type='html'>In my single college congregation there were two amazing girls who I pretty much envied all the time. They'd been friends since birth and I was always a little jealous of their awesomeness. So when one of them called me to ask me for a favor I quickly agreed. The favor was to go on a blind date with one of their boyfriend's old friends from high school. So off we went to the corn maze...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; first warning sign&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; should have been the group that I was going with: one engaged couple, two married couples (one married for less than a month), and a couple living together. Not the best group for a first date with a person you've never met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;Warning sign number two&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; was the teensy tiny car we took....ummm yeah...only ONE car...for ten of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33ff33;"&gt;Warning sign three&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; was the lack of allergy medication I had taken that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we get to the corn maze and almost immediately my allergies start up. I am sniffing and my eyes are watering and I'm mostly miserable. The second we hit the corn maze the other couples all go off in different directions to do "engaged couple" things (and i'm not exaggerating. We accidentally walked by the most recently newlyweds in an awkward corn-maze-makeout situation). So we're walking along, trying to not look at the maker-outers all around, and attempting to have non-awkward first date conversations. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I distinctly remember looking up at the sky and talking about the weather. A lot.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; The sky was very clear that night, so there wasn't even much to talk about on that front. Our other topic of conversation? His trench coat. He was wearing &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a floor-length leather trench coat which he was extremely proud of&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. He told me about how he had saved up money for it and how the people he went to high school with thought it was weird. But it wasn't weird! They were the ones that were weird; wearing their name-brand clothes and ski parkas. We talked about the part his trench coat played throughout his life and by the end of the date &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I knew that trench coat way better than I ever knew the guy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. By the time we got out of the maze my eyes were almost swollen shut. I hadn't thought to take tissues with me, so you can guess what state my nose was in. We then proceeded to wait for the  rest of the group who came out much later with a few corn husks in their hair. Unfortunately for me the only mode of transportation was transporting the whole group so I couldn't really go home. We went to 7-11 for hot chocolate and the rest of the group finally realized that I could no longer see and I was kind of disgusting to look at. We dropped off my date at his car, I rolled down the window and said thanks (probably), and we were off. So much fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-6648812195015102668?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/6648812195015102668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=6648812195015102668' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/6648812195015102668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/6648812195015102668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2008/12/mo-blind-date-problems-at-corn-maze.html' title='Mo blind date problems at the corn maze'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-7054989512700090696</id><published>2008-12-09T06:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T06:51:13.564-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gitta Hynt</title><content type='html'>A while ago I met a boy named Trevor. He asked me out and I went. He didn't talk much but it was a fun date. I just wasn't feeling it for him. I try to be straight-up and when he asked me out again I said, "I just don't think I am interested in that way. I am not looking for commitment and I have some trips planned this summer so I am not really lookin' to date either." He wrote me a message via e-mail and exclaimed, "I hate when people find out you are divorced, they treat you like a fricken lepar." I was like, "Whoa. I said nothing about the divorice. I have dated divorced people before..." He said, "Well of course I meant for us to only go out as friends anyway..." Whatever but okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we went out again. It was apparently "more than friends" for him. I had to go home early that evening and plan a lesson for the next day. That worked out nicely, otherwise we would have had a movie marathon. (Watching movie after movie after movie - for me, one is enough.) However, even though I am the one who had to be home - he lived in the middle of my house and the other girl's house who we were doubling with. (He lives in the middle of town, she lives on the south side, and I live on the North side.) Well I said I have to go home and plan a lesson. So even though she  coulda stayed all night long he drives her all the way home. The we backtrack and go clear to the other end of the valley. I was like, "Really!? Really!? After I said I am the one that needed to get home you take me home last?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He kept asking me out but I kept saying no. I left and came back from a trip and the asking continued. I kept saying, "No. I don't think that will work." I broke my leg on a humanitarian trip and he found out and sent me flowers. That was cute but my sister said I was not obligated to go out with him again because I already told him how I feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I don't hear from him for a couple of months and I thought that he had gotten the hint and moved on. Well out of the blue I got a message that says, "I'm sorry if you thought I dropped off the face of the Earth. The last couple months I have been working alot trying to pay off bills but now I have money to date again, so... you wanna go out!?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wanted to go to an event center when you can do all sorts of virtual activities like repel and jump from a plan and really feel like you are. I was like, "okay, okay." (Bad on my part, but I was just like, I want to do that and if he is willing to pay knowing all I want is to be friends... then whatever. Not good. But I did it.) I ended up going earlier with some friends anyways so I told him I would just meet him there. After the two hours we were there I started walking out. He said, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"So do you need a ride home?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I said, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"No I met my friends here so my car is right outside."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; And he said, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000099;"&gt;"I don't mind giving you a ride home...."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; And I was like, (Are you kidding? Listen to me.) PRONUNCIATE... &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"No! It's okay. My car really is just right outside."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; He leaned in to give me a hug and I kinda just sat there arms folded so he moves from a awkward hug position to just patting me on the back. I am like, "Thanks. See ya!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay since this little incident above I watched the movie Hitch (and I fully believe if you want to know the truth about dating - you should watch Hitch). In the movie Alex Hitchins (Will Smith) says, &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Listen to what the girl is saying. When you ask her a question... listen. Don't look at her lips or at her chest, listen so you know how to respond."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Example #1 is asking if someone needs a ride home. If they tell you their car is right outside - listen. It really made me feel like he was not even listening and there is nothing worse than that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next week he asked me to be boyfriend and girlfriend with him. I felt bad like, "Oh no! I led him on!" So I apologized and explained how I still felt the same way I did after our first date and that I was not interested. I said, "I am sorry if I mislead you." He said, "You didn't." (I told him straight-up how I felt after date #1, No hugs, No flirting.) I wondered why do guys, when they are picking up hints, take them as signs to try harder? If someone tells you something flat out - believe her! If you drop off the face of the Earth for two months and she makes no attempt to contact you - move on. If she says something, REALLY LISTEN! And if not even a smidgen of a hug is involved... Gitta Hynt!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-7054989512700090696?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/7054989512700090696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=7054989512700090696' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/7054989512700090696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/7054989512700090696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2008/12/gitta-hynt.html' title='Gitta Hynt'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-6012216229286673586</id><published>2008-11-23T02:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T09:00:22.049-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ATTENTION...ATTENTION... AN ATHLETE HAS ENTERED OUR PRESENCE!!!!!</title><content type='html'>Athlete's. Aren't &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;college athlete's&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; the most amazing people in the world?! They are like -&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; inhuman&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Perfect in every way.... HAHAHAHA!!!!! They wish! And I think some other people wish too. LOL. I recently returned from living in Washington DC for about 19 months. One of the things I was excited to get back into was going to school basketball games! Whoop Whoop! Well I started going to the basketball games and it took one game to realize what I had been missing out on while in DC... watching the school's star player... AC Merrill. I watched student's in the crowd bow down to this guy like he was some sort of royalty or greek god over basketball... what!? Everyone was in love with him and ya... he was good but he did NOT make up the whole team. So I decided to pick-a-player that was going to be my favorite... That's when I fell in love with #10 - &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Clark Kent&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Oh he was a joy to watch! He always had a huge smile and his face and he had some skills! Gosh, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;basketball was something NOT to miss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Well in February I was sitting in one of my classes at school. You know the general ed classes that everyone saves till their senior year and so there are like a gazillion students in the class and they are typically way easy...!? That's the class I was in. It was a sports class. One day the teacher began talking about basketball and brought up AC Merrill. I was about to say, "Oh no! Not him again!" When AC began talking back. I turned around and he was sitting a couple of rows behind me! Wow! Good thing I didn't say anything. Then the teacher started talking about Clark Kent... Oh man! Somebody stop me - but before I could cheer, Clark made a comment... &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Teacher say what!?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Kent is in our class?! AAAAHHHHH!!!!! I texted my friend who was going to marry him with me - we decided we could share a husband if it were him lol... and said, "You'll never believe who is in my class!!!" We went on texting and she was like, "Talk to him! Talk to him!! Take one for the team!" I was like, "Uh... I can't just talk to him... I need him to talk to me first..." I guess I am old fashioned in that way! ;^)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT I did put forth effort... I think that &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;both people need to put forth effort&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Like I started getting more ready lol... and I was ready &amp;amp; willing to smile &amp;amp; make eye contact... flirt I guess... I am not very good at that but I did my best. It really was just like a week later that I was sitting in class and he came in the back door. He sat on the back row and then walked to the front of class and grabbed a paper from the teacher. On his way back to his seat he walked past my desk. He looked down, I looked up and we made eye contact and smiled at each other. The lights really sent fireworks into the room, lol... Not really but obviously we had a moment because he finished walking past me, went back to his desk, grabbed his backpack, and walked back to me and sat in the desk right by me!!! Whoop Whoop!!!! We talked, we laughed, and he got my number! We started doing things and to this day, still chattin!... So I like athlete's but I like it when we both put in effort! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Friday night my friend Kristen and I met some basketball players at our University gym. Ew-la-la. They play on the school team, but for some reason were hoopin' it up elsewhere (against the rules). Well I had to leave early to go work but she stayed and did some sprints. Another school sponsored athlete (a football player) got her number and wanted to hang out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So friday night we went dancing with some friends. Not tons of people but we made it fun. Afterwards (about midnight) we went back to Kristen's house to watch a movie. Now, after the gym and around &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9:00 pm&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; we were still trying to decide what to do. Party or dancin? So Kristen began talking to Russ, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;the football player&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, again and asked about watching a movie because they had talked about it earlier at like 7. He said he was game, get some friends together, I will too and we'll do it. So she texts him around &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10:00&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and says something about starting the movie. Well no response until &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1:00 am&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. They say, "Hey we are gonna come over, cool?" We were in the middle of the movie so they come on over and make their grand enterance. Now athlete's are great people. GREAT people. ;^) They just have to remember that they are &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;normal people&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; too. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;NOT celebrities or professional athlete's&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Just &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;students&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. I think that they are so used to getting special treatment and attention from other students that sometimes their heads get up in the clouds. My friends and I are still open to doing things with them, but we aren't gonna treat them like celebrities. Now I have some good lookin friends. Not just "&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;great personalites&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;" but inside and out. People have even commented to me, "Dang! Do guys just fall all over them?" Yes. But when these 5 football players came, they didn't even give them the time of day. Lucky for us my friends are nice and they were talkin' to them, bein' all polite, etc. but these guys were so lame. 2 of them sat there not saying a thing. 1 of them laid down on the floor and feel asleep and the other 2... they were funny. I'll give them that. Near the end of the movie and not TOO long after they all got settled in the kid on the floor woke up (like he was really asleep) and ran into Kristen's kitchen saying, &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#336666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I'm starving! I'm starving! I need food, where's the fridge!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; His friend Marcos (a funny one) ran in after him saying, "He really will take your food." Well for the next 15-20 minutes (literally and honestly) the kid "Little Johnny" as his friends called him couldn't even stand up straight. He was swaggering and doubled over holding his stomach as though he was gonna die. He would fall to the floor and roll around on his back for a while holding his stomach, the whole time complaining about his need for food. Then he would stand up, fall back as though fainting into the wall again, and eventually end up on the floor. I was like, "This is ridiculous." I said, "&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Somebody needs to take this kid home&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and get him out of here. Where does he live?" It was SO LAME! Nobody was doing a thing and the football players just sat there ignoring him and despite all our protests didn't get the kid out of our house and on his way to food or quieted down! Ugh! I finally went into the other room and about every 30 seconds another girl came in to get away from the nonsense until all 5 of us were chillin' in a whole other room. Within 2 minutes the guys were like, "Uh... okay... we are gonna go get some food." We were like, "See ya!" But honestly who does that? Why do athlete's decide 1:00 am is the time to start hanging out and why do they think they can show up and have other people put forth all the effort? AND WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND goes somewhere new, meets new people, and acts like a baby! I haven't even ever seen a child act so ridiculous so I think he topped the all time "are you kidding" charts.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-6012216229286673586?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/6012216229286673586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=6012216229286673586' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/6012216229286673586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/6012216229286673586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2008/11/attentionattention-athlete-has-entered.html' title='ATTENTION...ATTENTION... AN ATHLETE HAS ENTERED OUR PRESENCE!!!!!'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-7991290589005993692</id><published>2008-11-16T21:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T21:14:05.333-08:00</updated><title type='text'>LAME LAME LAME LAME LAME</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;So my friend is dating a football player at our school. For the longest time her boyfriend has been wanting to set me up with one of his friends. It finally worked out tonight and it may have been the lamest date I have been on in a really long time. (Besides the fact that I feel like it is the ONLY date I have been on in a really long time!) Well, so I get the text yesterday that says, "How about a little date tomorrow?" I was like, "Sounds good." She texted, "They say bowling at 8. Is that good." and I say, "Good." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This morning I get a text again, "Still good for tonight?" I am like, "Yep." Then she texts, "Ok. Bowling at 7:30 then." I am like, "Yep, but why did they change it to 7:30?" She texts back, "Because I guess Tim has somewhere to be at 9." &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(LAME #1)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I am like, THAT IS SO STUPID!!!!! So I text, "That is lame." I had to give a presentation at 6:30 and at 7:00 so I said I have a presentation at 7, it should be over by 7:30 so I might be a couple minutes late, but that's good." I realized to a while after texting her that he had just created an out for himself. I can safetly bet that he didn't have anything and that just in case he didn't think I was cute or we didn't get along, he had just created an out for himself. WHATEVER. Way to go guy! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So I go do my presentations and I text her at like 7:25 to say, "Okay I am done. You can come over whenever." So 5 minutes later she calls me and says, "Okay I guess that I am going to come pick you up and we are just going to meet them at Chris's house. That good?" I am like (&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LAME #2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;) "Sure. Whatever." So she comes and picks me up and we go to her boyfriend Chris's house. Tim had already gotten there so we walked in and they were sitting on the couch playing PS 2 football. (Hardcore football players... ye-ah! so stupid.) Anyways, we said hey to each other and then they were so into this game that they couldn't talk to us. (&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LAME #3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;) So after 10 minutes they decided we can go now. So we walk out together, and get in my friends car. Tim and I sit in the backseat. You all know blind dates right? Awkward. You can't really be yourself when you don't know the person... Maybe it's just me, but I am kinda shy until I get to know the person. I felt like he kinda was too. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well we got to the bowling alley without really talking to each other and it was league bowling that night so we couldn't bowl. So we went to another bowling alley and on the way out of Lindon Lanes my friend said, "Why don't you sit in the front with me?" This was &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LAME&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; on my part but I did. And Tim didn't hear her ask so he was probably like, "Why is she switching to the front?" Whatever. On the way to the Fun Jungle I turned around and said, "Oh by the way Tim, I think that it is great that you created an out for yourself by saying that you had something at 9." (You know, lightening the mood. - haha) And he was like, "huh? what? Who told you that? I don't have to be gone by 9..." So I look at Chris &amp;amp; Marissa, like uh... they told me... what's going on here? And Chris was like, "Oh I thought that was tonight, but he had something another night." So by the way they were acting it was like it had just been an out, but apparently he didn't want to use it. YES!!! (GOOD THING #1.) We talked a little more on the way to the bowling alley and it went really good. We laughed and smiled and it was just nice. (You know, good date.) We got to the the Fun Jungle though and stood in line for a while and talked. It wasn't amazing but it was fine. He paid for me to bowl (which is what you expect on a date right?) but I guess that since that doesn't always happen that was GOOD THING #2. We were given lane #12. We sat by each other and that was nice because then we could talk. However, they plit us up into teams and me and Marissa were against him &amp;amp; Chris. That was lame because we couldn't cheer for each other. Blah. But he got like 4 strikes in a row. I am not a bowler. Oh well. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The game ended and Marissa, Chris, and I were ready to go but Tim wanted to play another game. I was like, This is good. He doesn't want to leave. We even got kicked off our lane and had to move to Lane 10. But he still agreed and then he and Chris went to pay and Marissa and I went and sat down. I sat down on the end where I was last time and this time Marissa sat down by me, then Chris came back and sat down by her, and the only place left for Tim to sit was on the clear other end. &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LAME #4&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; because we couldn't talk to each other. Well it was a pretty boring game and 1/2 way through we decided to leave. Without thinking I just sat in the front seat again, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LAME #2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; on my behalf. We went to the Pita Pit and he ordered and paid for himself. Uh... not me. &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LAME #5&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and AWKWARD!!!!!!!!! Chris paid for me and Marissa and then we sat down to dinner. Tim had been on his phone while bowling so I got on my phone too. Lame for both of us but oh well, what can you do? During dinner he answered the phone and said, "Okay, give me five minutes." &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff9900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;LAME #6&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; So we finished dinner, left the restraunt and he says by to Chris, nice to meet you marci and Doree he says, "it was fun we should hang out again sometime" as he gives me a hug and asks for my number! Are you KIDDING!?!?!!?!? I am so &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lame&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and gave it to him but he is not going to call. That was an awful, horrible date and that is not the type of person I want to date anyway. Someone who doesn't pay for dinner and who leaves at the restraunt. Ugh!! Horrible horrible horrible. Lame lame lame. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-7991290589005993692?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/7991290589005993692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=7991290589005993692' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/7991290589005993692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/7991290589005993692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2008/11/so-my-friend-is-dating-football-player.html' title='LAME LAME LAME LAME LAME'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-8937825579394021525</id><published>2008-10-16T11:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T06:21:49.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Double Date</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I first went out with &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Mike&lt;/span&gt; in February and we had been dating off and on ever since. I wasn't sure how he felt and I wasn't sure how I felt. I knew I still wanted to date other people and we never talked about being exclusive so I figured we were still dating other people. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;Sometimes he would call me, sometimes he wouldn't&lt;/span&gt; which is why I decided I would go out with other people. I wasn't just going to sit around and wait for him every night when I could be out doing something else. So the weekend before &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6600;"&gt;Halloween &lt;/span&gt;the girls next door, who are pretty much our roommates decided to throw a Halloween/Birthday party for our friend. I had already been asked out on a date for that night so I figured I would just show up late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;"&gt;Tyrone&lt;/span&gt; came to pick me up for our date and we went to the Olive Garden. It was lots of fun. We doubled with his sister and her boyfriend. We had gone out before so we were pretty comfortable with each other which made for a relaxing evening. We started dinner kinda late so afterwards he just brought me home, although it was even later by then. I could see all the people at the party outside the house next door and on into the street. Tyrone was like, "Whoa, big party huh!?" I was just like, "Ya..." He walked me up to the door and we had our little doorstep moment. I was telling him thanks and he was asking when we could do it again, like maybe go skiing sometime... I was like sure and then I gave him a hug thanks and good-bye. While I was hugged him &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#000066;"&gt;I looked over his shoulder and in the middle of the street watching the whole thing was Mike&lt;/span&gt;. Agh! Tyrone left and I just went inside and was like, "Oh no! Oh no! Oh no! Oh no!" I felt so bad. After I knew that Tyrone would have been gone I decided to go out and talk to Mike just to see how he felt about it. I was just like, "Hey, uh... Sorry about that." He was like, "Ya, AWKWARD." I was like, "Ya..." a bunch of people were around so we couldn't really talk. I tried but he didn't seem to want to. So I left and went to a different party. I called him later and said, "Hey when the party is over, can we talk?" He was like, "ya."So I went back to the party and we hung out for a while there and then he was like, "Well do you want to go watch a movie at my house?" I said, "Sure."&lt;br /&gt;I figured this was the &lt;span style="color:#ff9966;"&gt;perfect chance to ask him what he was thinking&lt;/span&gt; just so I could know where we were at in the dating thing, "Exculsive or not." I was like, "Did it bother you tonight when you saw me with that other guy?" He was like, "No." and then he changed the subject and wouldn't talk about it again! Agh! &lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;Talk about frustrating &lt;/span&gt;and lame. Then the rest of the night he kept bringing up, "Well don't you feel special, two dates in one night?... This is one night of action for you, two dates in one night!" And stuff like that. I was like, "Alright already! &lt;span style="color:#cc9933;"&gt;If it didn't bother you, get over it.... if it did, let's talk about it!&lt;/span&gt;" But he didn't want to. BOYS ARE SO FRUSTRATING!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-8937825579394021525?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/8937825579394021525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=8937825579394021525' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/8937825579394021525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/8937825579394021525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2008/10/double-date.html' title='Double Date'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-1590301421631827779</id><published>2008-10-01T11:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T11:23:58.508-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hmmmm...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My little brother obviously thinks I should be married by now. I think he wants another brother-in-law. There is a guy in his congregation who is not too much older than me. Maybe close to thirty. He has his own house, a business, and a boat. My little brother said, "So, Christian has a boat. I was thinking maybe you could date him so that when you two get married I can use the boat." I was like, "Seriously!?" And next thing I knew he had talked to him about it. He has started to set me up with people who have what he wants, boats, motorcycles, 4-wheeler's etc. Another day he brought it up again about how we need to get married so he can have a boat. I said, "What even makes you think we would be compatible?!" He said, "because you are both active and like to do things." I said, "More goes into it than that. What does he even look like!?" He said, "He looks like Jesus." I was like, "What!? Are you kidding?!" He said, "No." and he points to a picture on the wall... "He looks like that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following week a lady from my parents and brother's congregation came over to visit my mom. I said, "Oh! Do you know Christian who goes to church with you!?" She said, "Who!?" I explained a little about him... she still looked confused. I said, "He looks like Jesus...." She lit up, "Oh! I know him..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm... this could be interesting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-1590301421631827779?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/1590301421631827779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=1590301421631827779' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/1590301421631827779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/1590301421631827779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2008/10/hmmmm.html' title='Hmmmm...'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-9029761652933537684</id><published>2008-09-26T07:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T10:57:09.065-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Intimidation!? No....</title><content type='html'>I went out with this guy on Friday night. My friend had set us up. Said he was SO FUNNY! Like Will Smith. It was a fun date but it wasn’t anything special. I think for either of us. Yet he asked me for my phone number! !? She asked me what I had thought of him and I said, “It was fine, but I didn’t feel a connection or anything.” She asked him what he had thought and said he agreed with what I had said. I get a text later that says, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc9933;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“Thanks I had a lot of fun... Sorry I wasn’t myself tonight!?”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I trying to lighten the mood said, “Awe! Why weren’t you yourself? &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Are you shy!?”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; He wrote back, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#999900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“No I am only shy when I am intimidated. Maybe you intimidate me?... No.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I just have a cold.” Then he proceeded to ask me out again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL. Do you think he realized what he said!? Like &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffcc66;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;oh maybe you are really cute and wonderful in every way and make me feel a little intimidated, but nope you don’t.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; It’s more a health thing. LOL. OUCH!!!!! What a blow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-9029761652933537684?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/9029761652933537684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=9029761652933537684' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/9029761652933537684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/9029761652933537684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2008/09/intimidation-no.html' title='Intimidation!? No....'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-7943432288049607946</id><published>2008-09-26T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T07:08:43.732-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My week of Glory, or defeat...</title><content type='html'>I’ve totally been crushing on multiple boys at one time. This is SO GOOD since often times you can’t even find one decent one to crush on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Corey&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; – The epitome of a good church boy, leads our on-campus social group, is cute, athletic, and just innocently awkward. He asked me to go out with him on &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Monday night&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. We went out to dinner and got some ice cream. We talked and enjoyed the whole evening. It was cute. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;BJ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; – a guy I have liked since the beginning of the year, shy and a complete hunter and outdoorsman, also great standards asked me to go out with him on &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tuesday night&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. He decided that we should go off-roading/4-wheeling. It was amazing. However, he came to pick me up at my apartment building and it just so happens that as I came to the door, the fire alarm went off. Ack. So everyone started fleeing the apartment building. As I walked out the apartment door to the parking lot I saw Corey across the parking lot. He got this big ol’ smile on his face and gave me the head nod to let me know he had seen me and started walking towards me. He got close right at the time BJ opened the door of his truck for me. &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Corey realized that I was on a date&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and I think we both got awkward looks on our faces. I know he did. He just gave this little half wave like, “Oh shoot. See ya later.” Made a awkward face and turned around. It was no bueno. I did have so much fun with BJ though. Although Corey was on my mind because I felt bad Corey did good at pushing him out. At one point, his truck nearly hit a 90 degree vertical. Ahhh!!! We went to this amazing look out point and he said, “The only reason you will see other people up here is because they come up to make out.” I was like, “Hmmm…” But we didn’t do anything. It was a fun night. The next day, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Wednesday&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I saw this absolutely gorgeous guy. 6 foot 8 completely athletic, dressed like a model, a little rebellious and oh just perfect in every way. &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bill&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; asked me if I wanted to go out that night and get some dinner. I was like sure. Afterwards we went… digging in his truck. We actually went to the same place BJ had taken me the night before. We were having so much fun but then we got a flat tire. And we had to wait for someone to come and help us. And guess who drove by as we were sitting on the side of the road that leads back from make-out point? BJ!!!! Ahhh!!! He slowed down as if he were going to stop and help but then we made eye contact and it was &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;that same awkward&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;, “SHOOT!” emotion on both of our faces that had occurred the night before with Corey. Ah! What are the chances that when you go out with someone you see the one from the night before but let alone for it to happen two nights in a row!? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I went home Thursday morning&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; so that ended the week that was possibly the best, yet worst week ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-7943432288049607946?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/7943432288049607946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=7943432288049607946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/7943432288049607946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/7943432288049607946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-week-of-glory-or-defeat.html' title='My week of Glory, or defeat...'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-4817021025586138036</id><published>2008-09-26T06:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T11:16:18.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Marriage? Are you Ready!?</title><content type='html'>The other day I got a random phone call from my one of my best friends from high school. She had gone out to dinner with her dad and his real estate agents. Their son showed up for dinner and he was semi-&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;tall, dark, handsome, and funny&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Melissa said that the whole time they were eating she kept thinking how perfect we would be together. Then near the end of the meal her dad said, “So Melissa has this friend…” and commenced to ask if he would like to go out on a blind date with me. He said, “Well I would be up for it but let me give you my number so that she can call me if she wants to.” My friend made it sound all too perfect and meant to be. She ended by saying, “Remember Doree. &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have never set you up with anyone before and I would never set you up with someone I wouldn’t go out with myself.”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (Too bad she’s married.) We went to lunch the next week and she handed me the phone number reminding me of this very important thing. She wanted me to call him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I was not going to! I took the number put it in my phone and threw the paper away. I thought, “Maybe if we have a party I will mass text everyone including him but I am not going to call him.” The following week I get out of class and check my phone. I had a missed call. From Juan Pedro! (His parents are from Mexico but he was born in the US.) I called my friend and said, “What is going on!?” She explained that he had called her stepmom and asked for her number then called her to get my number. Anyways he called again. I answered and talked to him. He was fun to talk to on the phone. He was really nice and every time we talked, we talked for like an hour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after going through our schedule’s we set up a day. Afterwards he asked if I could drive. “What!?” You don’t do that after setting up the date! I couldn’t because my car was in the shop. So I told him that. He told me that &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;he couldn’t drive because he didn’t have a car.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I was like, “Well do you have anyone that we could double with!? You could bring a friend and I could bring a friend?” He said he would see. I got one of my friends to agree and next time I talked to him I told him. He said, “Um, well I really like talking to you and I would like to get to know you one on one. So if it’s alright let’s go out just the two of us this time and then next time we will double and your friend can come.” He said, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“You can drive my parents car.”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I was like, “What!? You told me that you don’t have a car so why don’t you just drive your parents car?” He said, well I didn’t want to tell you this but &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have gotten a few speeding tickets that I forgot to take care of so my license is suspended.”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I was like, “Um. Okay.” He said, “But I really am responsible…” and went into a story of why he had forgotten. So it was me driving no matter what. His parent’s car or me finding one. I said I will call my sister and see if I can drive her car. She agreed. I started thinking and decided this could be a potentially awkward situation, me picking him up!? Would I honk? Walk up to the door? Have to meet his parents? He had mentioned that he worked at the Gap which was just down the street from my house so I asked him if he could just have a friend drop him off at my apartment. He said, “Okay.” So we were set. The date was on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night I got ready and around 6:00 he arrived. I opened the door and &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;he just walked right on in the house.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; He said, “Hey! You’re Doree, great I am Juan.” He walked right past me and over to the kitchen and around the living room. I was just standing by the door kinda in complete shock of his forwardness. I introduced him to my roommates and he realized I was still standing by the door. He said, &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“Oh you are ready to bounce!? Okay, let’s bounce then!”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Yes, I thought. Let us “bounce.” We got into my sister’s car and he said, “I wanted to ask you this inside but can I give you a hug?” I was like, “uh… sure.” So we awkwardly leaned over the mid section of the car and did some sort of a side hug. Then we sat there. I don’t know if he thought I knew where to go but I had to say, “Um… so where we headed?” He said, “Oh! Well, this is what I had in mind. What if we go to the grocery store, pick up some stuff for fruit smoothies and get a pizza and go back to my house and make the smoothies.” I was like, “Okay. So where should I drive to first!?” He said, “&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Well I don’t want to seem cheap&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; but I was thinking Little Ceasar’s since they have the $5 pizza’s so &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;they are kinda cheap&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;.” I thought, “Well I didn’t think that until you said that!” So we went to Little Ceasar’s and he ordered the $5 cheese pizza. To his complement he did open all the doors for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After getting the pizza he was like, “Oh!... maybe we should have gone to the grocery store first. Otherwise the pizza will get cold… Well do you just want to drive to my house and then go back to the grocery store to get the smoothie stuff?” I was like, “sure.” Not knowing his house was like 20 minutes away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decorated the pizza with mushrooms and then heated it up again in the oven. He started to tell me things that I typically wouldn’t tell people on the first date. I was like, “Um, do you always tell people stuff like this the first time you meet them?” He said, “No. I just feel like there is something special about you, like I can tell you this.” He continued, “And Doree. I just want you to know that&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; I will never lie to you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.” I said, “Um… you kinda already have. What about the whole you can’t drive cuz you don’t have a car going to um, I can’t drive because of my speeding tickets…” He said, “Well I won’t lie to you and I just want to tell you the truth.” So he told commenced to tell me a whole different story. In this one he was going to school in at a southern state university. On his way home one weekend he jumped the railing on the freeway and barreled down a hill. He said that the reason that he couldn’t drive is because &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;he was 45% (or something) blind in one eye because of the accident&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. I was like, “okay.” (whatever by now, right!?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner he asked what I wanted to do next. Go to a movie? Go play pool? Or Make smoothies? I said, “Well I don’t really like movies. I don’t know how to play pool so that won’t be fun and I am kinda full so I don’t really want a smoothie.” (Well options are up – time to go home.) He said, “Okay, that’s a good idea, let’s just sit here and talk. I’d really like to just get to know you more.” (ugh.) So we sat on his couches and talked. He asked me, “What are your ultimate dreams in life?” Um, a little deep right to start off the conversation. I think he could tell I was a little bewildered because then he said, “Ok, what do you want to be when you grow up?” I have this guy friend who I told I wanted like 12 children 6 natural and 6 adopted. He said, “Doree! Don’t ever tell any guy you are dating that otherwise he will NEVER get serious with you!” I was like, “Well, ultimately I want to be a mom, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I’d like to have 12 kids… Have 6 and adopt 6.”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;He said, “I’ve never thought of that but I would totally do that. Ya, that would be awesome. I would so be open to that.”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I was like, “oh… uh… ok… well I like to travel and go new places, recently I added Jerusalem to my top places I want to go.” &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;He said, “Perfect my parents have a time share in Jerusalem we could totally go there for a week!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; And Doree, I would love to take you to Mexico and South America to take you on a tour there. It is so beautiful there, so spiritual, and I’d just love for you to see it.” I was like, “wait a minute, when did my Jerusalem trip turn into your Jerusalem trip!?” Blah! He said, “I have an idea! What do you say we go pray with people at the nursing home?” I’m like, “What!?” And he was like, “Ya. It’ll be fun.” So to make a long story short we went and prayed with people at a nursing home. On the way home we passed his church building and he said (as I am driving), &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“Doree. I’d like to ask you a question.”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I was like, (in my mind NO!!!!), gulp, “okay!?” He said, &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“I’ve made a goal to make sure &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;my wife and I&lt;/span&gt; go to the church once a week together and I think that &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;goals are important to start before your married &lt;/span&gt;so I was just wondering if we could&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; set a date and start going to church together&lt;/span&gt; to study once a week.”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I said (being honest), “I can’t really set a date right now because I am busy and every week is different for me…” He kept asking until I finally confessed (because I didn’t want to lie) that Wednesdays and Thursdays are usually more open. But did NOT make any commitments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got to his house I pulled up to the driveway and said, “Well thanks.” He said, “Is it okay if you get out of the car so I can give you a hug before you leave?” I was like, “ok.” So I got out but didn’t walk one foot. I stood right by the driver’s door. He came over and he gave me a big ol’ hug. I let go after one second but he kept holding on. As he was hugging me I heard him &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;inhale and exhale very deeply in my ear.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I was like, “What the!? What is he doing?!” It was more than his normal breathing and I think he was just trying to &lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;capture a smell to remember the evening&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. I backed away fast once I realized. He moved his arm from my back to my shoulder’s and then I didn’t know what was happening but he kissed my forehead and then slowly and romantically!? he moved his face in like he was going to give me a kiss on the lips. I immediately just put my head down so my chin was near my chest. He said, “I was just teasin. I wasn’t really going to give you a kiss. I just wanted to see what you would do.” I was like, “Ya. Right.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got into the car, said my good-bye’s and drove off, feeling like a wedding date had just been set for me that I never agreed to!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Oh and don’t worry, the next morning he came into my work to see me. The good lady’s that I work with didn’t tell him I was in the back. Sad but don’t worry. I had “the talk” with him over the phone and told him that I thought he was great, just not the right time for me and that he had moved kinda fast. As soon as we hung up he sent me a text and told me he had decided to be a teacher, the career I told him I wanted my future husband to have. LOL. What do you say to that!? Congratulations! So it all got taken care of although the phone calls and texts didn’t end. If there is one thing I learned from this kid it is boldness and persistence have not died!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-4817021025586138036?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/4817021025586138036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=4817021025586138036' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/4817021025586138036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/4817021025586138036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2008/09/marriage-are-you-ready.html' title='Marriage? Are you Ready!?'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-2245892614365624251</id><published>2008-09-25T11:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T12:04:15.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Prom</title><content type='html'>One more high school flashback. Every girls dreams of &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;Prom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; right!? It's like what you wait your whole life for. Well I was thrilled that I was actually asked quite a while before the actual dance. I found the perfect dress and although I wasn't in love with the boy he was cute enough and he played basketball, so cute &amp;amp; athletic, not a bad combination right!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't have a day date but he called me and said that he was going to come pick me up for &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;dinner at 5:00&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. I was like, "5:00!? That's kinda early but maybe they have something else planned. I will just go with it!" So I went to get my hair done, put on my perfect dress, and was ready when he came. We took some pictures and went to a nice restaurant in the city. There was 4 of us, we doubled with one other couple. The two boys just sat there and talked to each other, sharing inside jokes and laughing with us just sitting there like, "Uh..." I think they were nervous, but Hi! Talk to me! ;) Dinner ended in an hour and the dance didn't start until 8:00. So uh, we had some time to kill. So they drove us around the town for a while. Again, talking to each other and not us. We ended up arriving at the dance early. We were the first ones there, &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;we actually arrived with the photographers&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and we sat outside the picture room while they set up the backgrounds. We went into the dance hall and took a seat. I learned that my date &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;didn't actually like to dance&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and didn't want to. So we sat. We sat alot. We danced one slow song. I tried to get him to get up and dance. I got up and danced with my friends when they arrived but he just sat. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The dance ended at 11:30&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and guess what!? We stayed until the very end. Even when people were cleaning up the dance, we were still there. Just us and the people in charge of the dance who were cleaning. Just standing awkwardly. I said, "Um, I think all student body officer's may need to help clean-up, so let me go check. I will be back." I didn't but I said, "Ya, I am going to be staying to clean-up. Was there anything planned for after or is that okay?" He looked at the other kid, like, "Hmmm!? Anything after!?" &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Obviously nothing was planned&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. I said, "Okay then..." I gave him a hug and scooted them out the door the best I could. Then I went to my neighbor who was a faculty member at the high school and I said, "Hey, can I get a ride home!?" We were out the door in minutes. The next day my friend told me that t&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;he keys had gotten locked in the car&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; so they stood in the parking lot for like an hour before finally heading home!!! AHHHHHH!!!!!! What a night right!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-2245892614365624251?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/2245892614365624251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=2245892614365624251' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/2245892614365624251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/2245892614365624251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2008/09/prom.html' title='Prom'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-4529969408125419855</id><published>2008-09-25T11:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T11:49:43.648-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Highschool Flashback</title><content type='html'>I remember in high school I went out on a date to a girls choice dance. I didn't really like anyone at the moment but I thought that for all the girls that want to go to dances, there are probably boys too that want to go. So I asked a kid that I had never talked to before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was my sister's age and friends with her friends. We went to the dance with them and had a good time. That however ended when I dropped him off. He gave me a hug and said thanks, and told me that he had a good time. I said, "&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Ya, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I had a good time too. Thanks Lance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Well that's good but i'm Landon.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooops. His name was, Landon. He had a twin brother named Lance. My bad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-4529969408125419855?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/4529969408125419855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=4529969408125419855' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/4529969408125419855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/4529969408125419855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2008/09/highschool-flashback.html' title='Highschool Flashback'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748868245336971385.post-5521059411800647028</id><published>2008-09-21T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T12:06:19.329-07:00</updated><title type='text'>911 Dating</title><content type='html'>I think that too many of us know what it is like to have a bad date. Even to have a really bad date. To be single when it seems like everyone else is getting married and to get questioned constantly about our dating lives. Sound familiar!? Too everyone who asks, "Are you dating someone!?" NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND STOP ASKING THAT!!!! "I am not dating SOMEONE! I am dating EVERYONE!" I date a variety of people but people don't care about that! They want you to be serious with someone. Haha. Why get serious when you can have adventure's like these...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*All names have been changed for the sake of the men! (Oh the things we do for them! ;^)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7748868245336971385-5521059411800647028?l=911dating.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/feeds/5521059411800647028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7748868245336971385&amp;postID=5521059411800647028' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/5521059411800647028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7748868245336971385/posts/default/5521059411800647028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://911dating.blogspot.com/2008/09/911-dating.html' title='911 Dating'/><author><name>Love Doree D. Day</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00881804094635127667</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
