31 March 2010

It's About Time I Did This....

So, I read a lot of blogs, with giveaways. I've been wanting to do one, I don't have many followers, I'm sure. But, why not reward the few, the proud, the Xan-Fans? (Totally calling you guys that from now on. You love it.)

Here's the deal: I make CDs...like mixed tapes. I LOVE them. I do. They make me happy inside. My newest ventures in the mixed tape arena have created "Allergic 2 Love" and soon to be "Too Allergic 2 Love." (The name is a reference to a song by The Shins. In case you like random facts...) The winner of this give-away will get both of those CDs...unless you're one of the Xan-Fans that already has "Allergic 2 Love" at which point, you can choose from such greats as "Drinking Songs" or "Songs about ........" (You can fill in the name of that boy there. It's different for each girl...or girl's name if you're a guy.)

How to enter?
  1. Read my friend's blog about her most recent, worst-date-ever.
  2. Post about your worst-date-ever in my comments.
That's it. Except not...I am now updating this post, because I'm a moron and didn't put a deadline. Hmmmmm....April 9. That gives you a little more than one week.

Go!

6 comments:

mal said...

Well the most awkward date I ever went on was with the son of a family I met on my mission. They'd been trying to set us up for a long time, and one day (out of no where) the son called. I really liked his family and so I thought that it would at least be fun even if we didn't hit it off. Unfortunately, it wasn't so much. He was very utah-fied. We went to Indian food (which was good) and then miniature golfing (which I'm not a fan of). I think it was mostly the conversation that made it horrible. At one point during our golfing extravaganza I started talking about how Utah county is a bubble and he got seriously offended. He started telling me how he hated when people would say that (now, he was in his late 20s-early 30s still living in a small apartment- it could have still been BYU approved- just working).

Cynthia said...

I went on the group date from HELL once...Everyone begged me to be part of the group, the part they forgot? To make sure there were enough guys so that we could actually pair off. It was the worst time ever. OR we could look at the blind prom date...but since I have tried in vain to burn that one from my memory I won't go there. Let's just say that I do not like the group date thing - when they happen in large numbers. Small groups fine, large groups suck ass. Hated the date to the Monster Truck show...good thing I really liked the guy and ended up marrying him - but on the condition that I would never have to go to one of those again.

Are you happy now? I have entered the contest. Come on...where are the others, we all have nightmare date stories...

Chelle said...

Blind date...had a bunch that year (living in a new area)...
He was late. His truck smelled like horse *#@*%! -- on the inside. Badly. I think so did he. So I climbed in the stinky truck and braced for the 1 hour ride to the nearest bowling alley. When I went to climb out of the truck, I noticed my pants were wet...seriously...like I'd been sitting in a puddle wet. I must've commented on it, because he said "oh, yea, I spilled my drink there earlier today."
So I take my wet behind into the bowling alley where I was bowling one of my best games ever and he...well, he wasn't having his best game. I even tried to do worse to even up the score, but who can "accidentally" bowl straight gutter balls? I beat the pants off him. (NOT literally)
So he's mad and doesn't talk the entire hour home. After 15 minutes I give up and quit trying to get him to say something. I even quit trying to stay awake and just fell asleep on the drive home...with a freshly dampened behind.

Him: "I'll call you again, maybe we can play pool" (translation: Maybe I can beat you at pool)
Me: "Sure" (translation: Thanks for the warning! I'll be avoiding my phone for a while...)

EM. said...

Well, I don't really have a horrible date story, but my friend said I could borrow hers. It was for a dance in high school so there was a big group, but we were all paired off. Part of the date was laser tag, and while we were playing my friend's date made out with this other girl like 5 different times. When my friend found out she was not happy, to say the least... go figure. It was the other girls first kiss, so I kind of felt bad for her but she ended up being a real dirty. We still hate them. Needless to say, there was not a second date.

This is Emily by they way, of Brad and Emily. I know this story doesn't exactly fit the rules, so I understand if I get disqualified. :)

Erin said...

I'm only entering because I NEED to say this... THAT WAS THE MOST AWFUL STORY EVER! I even read it to Dustin... and we were both cringing and laughing...
I have two worst dates: The first was in high school... I was madly in love with a guy in the grade above me. He called me one night... asked what I was doing that weekend. My heart started racing... and I told him nothing. Then, he asked if I'd like to to on a double date that weekend... UM, YES PLEASE! Then, he informed me that I'd be going with his cousin while he took another girl. Ouch.
Bad date #2: Fast forward to college. A cool guy in my ward told me had a close friend who he thought would be perfect for me. He talked this guy up so much, I couldn't say no when he asked if he could set us up. I showed up to meet said Perfect Match, and I kid you not: He was borderline retarded. No. Really. If his IQ was above 90, I'd be surprised. Needless to say, I never talked to the 'cool' guy from my ward or his friend. Ever. Again.

azurerocket said...

So, I know I'm late, but I have an awful date story that must be told. Sadly, due to the tumultuous life that is mine (right in the middle of selling my house, need to move within 2 weeks, but can't look for a rental until the appraisal happens, also have several LARGE unfinished projects such as the kitchen floor and half of the windows, sigh), I can't weave it properly, so here it is in a nutshell:

I'm a jr. in high school attending a Christmas party sponsored by the foreign language clubs. Random boy sits by me and strikes up a conversation. It comes to light that neither of us have plans to attend the Christmas dance. Well, what a coincidence, how about we go together? Okay, my previous semi-blind-dating experience was not too terrible, just somewhat awkward, but character-building. Plans are made. I actually cannot remember what most of the dance-centric activities were comprised of or who else was in our group due to successful mental blocking, but there were several odd moments such as being offered the hook-ups to a real coffin should I ever need to borrow one and the seeming roiling rage being barely contained under the surface as date discovered that I was only 15 (parents let me attend school dances as a junior despite my young age). Phew, dropped off at home, date successfully completed, I thought, but Paul Harvey would beg to differ.

One day, sitting at lunch with friends, prior date slinks up to the cafeteria table and hands me a note, slinks away. Upon opening it, I find a wallet-sized photo of myself and a short note, most of which I forgot, but which contained the scripture reference of Ether 12:27. Thoroughly creeped out, especially when I have a movie-style everything-comes together montage recalling all the seemingly innocuous encounters with boy in question, such as being asked for said wallet photo although I didn't know him well, being sat by in the transportation to club activity, being singled out at Christmas party, and being asked what that amazing scripture was I used in the Seminary devotional although I randomly looked it up 5 seconds before reading. Well, subject of story is a senior, so only a few months of avoiding eye contact in school hallways and then I'm free.

Bad date story, no? Here's the kicker:

A few years later: I am now a sophmore in college and have just begun to date the man who would become my husband. Christmas break arrives and we both head home for the holidays. Email from future-husband: "Guess what? There is an Elder [Creeper] from [hometown] over for dinner at my house that thinks he might know you!" Later found out that Creeper originally told future-husband that he didn't know me, then changed the story to he might have known me. Creeper's companion later related to future-brother-in-law that Elder Creeper fears for his temporal safety after encounter until husband returns to college (husband is big guy, ex-state-champ-team football linebacker). Mother-in-law still talks about "that sweet elder that fixed the microwave".

Hope you enjoyed the tale. I should at least be able to get some humor mileage out of it after having to live through it. Fortunately the last scene has been the final chapter to date.