Weight: x+8, all pretzels dipped in nutella, all the time. Must. Stop. Buying. Both.
Don't worry, I will post the Cary Elwes interview in style of Colin Firth interview soon. But in the meantime, I feel I owe people an explanation on how on earth I went on a date with a scientologist. (Since that's the punch line, get ready for a really boring story.)
I signed up with this matchmaker Jen. In the future, I'll just be referring to her as Jen, so you'll have to have read this and remember it. Take note. I met with Jen, told her what I was looking for, and that was that. Every week, she sends me info on some new guy I'm not interested in dating. Fun, and totally worth the money. If you're a gazillionaire who has lots of time on your hands and is planning to be cryogenically frozen before menopause. Which I am not.
Curious what these guys could be like? You know you are. Here are the first subjects. (Scientologist is #5, if you need to skip ahead for time constraints.)
(1) 40-something year old (she actually wouldn't tell me what his precise age was), bald man who lives in Orange County. I told her (a) I'm not interested in dating people in Orange County and (b) not bald guys whose age you won't tell me. Note: she sent me a picture of him wearing a hat and sunglasses so I couldn't tell right away. I was thoroughly upset for days with her, but you know, silently and without expressing it other than to tell her that honesty was really important to me in this process. Dignified, no? A rare moment.
(2) 37-year-old, decent looking, entrepreneur, really cute personality. Oh, but he lives in Boston now, which she didn't know. Good work.
(3) 35-year-old, more than decent looking guy who lives in the neighboring community and works in finance. I believe her words were "I seriously think this could be your future husband." But, oops, she sent him a photo of me with my dog, and he's allergic to dogs and hates them. (Sandy is hypoallergenic, but still a dog. And a guy who hates a dog is bad news. That's a Dealbreaka', ladies, in Liz Lemon voice.) Again, totally avoidable misstep. And another week passes.
(4) 42-year-old, grey headed, heavy set guy who lives in Orange County. This is when I started getting upset and also feeling like perhaps she was not telling me something. Like I'm an ugly, fat slob who looks too old to have children anymore. But in reality, what I know to be true is that she's trying to pawn me off on their male clients instead of listening to me and trying to match me with guys I might like. She actually fought me on this with "but he likes dogs." I fought back with "yeah, so do all the guys at the crowded dog parks." Whatcha got to say to that, huh?
(5) 32-year-old, decent looking guy, who's a photographer in LA, who is not allergic to dogs. I'm sorry, what's that? An eligible bachelor? So I went to lunch with him yesterday. Charming guy, not going to lie. I could tell he was a little more surfer dude than I'd typically think would work with Type-A me, but you know, what the heck. We seemed to be getting along - a little playful banter trying to guess things about each other just based on reading each other. Like how many siblings, high school prototype, etc. Warm smile, seemed to listen, honest. Let's pause on honest for a sec. At the end, he said something like "hope you won't be too late getting back to work," and I asked him where he was headed next. He laughed and said he probably shouldn't tell me. Then, he said he was heading to the Scientology Center to meet someone. I know what you're thinking, I should have assumed this meant that he himself was a scientologist. But I didn't, and I laughed. Many of us long to walk inside those doors and find out what it's all about. If you've lived near one of the centers, which I have, you've seen the guys and girls (alike) walking around in polo shirts tucked into khaki pants, and thought "what could possibly be going on in there that this is the appropriate uniform?" And also "Tom Cruise would never wear that." So, now you might not be as shocked that I laughed, thinking he was one of those guys whose curiosity had gotten the better of him, and today was the day he and his friend had dared to step inside to relieve said curiosity. *I would do this. In fact, one day, when feeling especially healthy and having prepared a safe word, I WILL do this!* But it was not a joke. He then told me about Dianetics, and I picked up the pace back to my car while spouting out tidbits I fortunately knew like how "the first stages are really just common sense and healthy living, aren't they?" I did not ask him what he thought about post-partum depression. Phew.
Since then, I have politely told Jen that while he's an excellent guy, she might want to know he's a scientologist, and some ladies in LA might not mind that, but I do. The end.
Reading/viewing assignment: Edge of Reason, lawyer's ball. Bridget insulting conservatives in front of conservatives. Check another off my list of awkward Bridget moments.