If previous experience hadn't already convinced me that nun hood is best...

This date did.
Problem number one- it's a blind date. Those are kinda ify anyway.
So before I launch into sadly funny possibly concerning date story: I listened to Sheri Dew this morning in the centrum. Which was quite grand actually. I LOVE her. (I find it ironic that I'm blogging about her since she said something about blogs. And facebook.) She's so genuine and fun to listen to. She had me giggling one second, and tearing up the next. But tragically, I forgot to bring a notebook or journal to take notes in. After that we did some yard work. Grand stuff. Invigorating. :p It was such a beautiful day today. I thank God for days like these- truly, they're like bathing in smiles. And the crazy happiness and content is like holding a piece of heaven in my hands. So it was a smiley heaven day.
And then Boy A (a guy from my seminary class, who is responsible for setting me up on this blind date) and Girl A, Boy A's date, picked me up. Strange? Yeah, I know. We then proceeded to drive across town to Boy B's house- I assumed he was my date. He was not my date. Then we drove to Girl A's house to meet Boy C. My date. Who has been kicked out of his high school, AND the alternative school, doesn't make eye contact- got angry when his dad suggested he shake my hand and introduce himself AND belches loudly while bragging about how many people he's beat up and almost killed. Then Boy A, Boy B and Girl A head out to pick up Girl B. My date's father suggested I stay and help Boy C make sandwiches. Sounds reasonable right? The house was a mess, little kids running around everywhere and his mother acted like I was going to marry her son or something. Double awkward? I agree. So Boy C starts hollering about no bread, and wandering around. What exactly would you suggest I do in such a circumstance? 'Cause Boy C didn't seem like the type who would love to be shadowed. But there kinda wasn't anywhere to sit. So I stood there. Looking and feeling quite stupid I'm sure. Then Boy C's mother says he should give me a knife so I can help make the sandwiches. He hands me a sharp throwing knife. Oh dear. When I'm finally, and less awkwardly, making sandwiches I try to make conversation since the awkward silence thing is practically a time bomb waiting to disintegrate my sanity. Turns out awkward conversation is worse than awkward silence. We then went outside and he shot baskets with his mom and a little boy of whom I don't know. I got a call so I glanced at my phone and his mom got rather angry mother bear-ish. I glanced. I silenced. That's more polite than letting it ring in my pocket isn't it? Boy C missed and kept muttering about how he was off his game. His mom threw me the ball, and so I shot. Ha. I made it... maybe I shouldn't have. People looked kind of flustered with me. And then Boy C threw the ball over the fence. Multiple times. Personally I think he gave up on making it and decided to show off his coolness by fence hopping. Which, you have to admit, is slightly impressive. Skip ahead to when Boy A, Girl A, Boy B and now Girl B arrive. Boy B had a bloody nose and thus had little pieces of tissue hanging from his nose looking suspiciously like nasty boogers. Haha. Hahahahaha. That's all I have to say on that matter.
Then we drove to the park. My date's head was hanging out the window. We ate in awkwardness (Are you noticing the underlying theme here? The purpose of the work as a whole?- Yeah, I'm in AP English and yes. We are most definitely cramming for the final.) and then my date ran off while I was still eating to go swing. Let me pose my next date etiquette question. Do I drop my food and chase after the madman? Or finish eating with the other couples? Then we played tag. I, having just donated blood and apparently being a wimp, started feeling sickly. Oh great. Please please please PLEASE let me not throw up in the midst of a million little kids, their parents, and the group date people.

... Yeah, I didn't. The evenin star heard me. :p
But I did biff it way hard down the slide.
I must admit, I had my parents 'need me to come home' at five. And now, here I am.
In recovery.