Future Husband, I Have News

Dear Future Husband,

I think it’s about time that I told you something. Brace yourself, this is BIG news:

I’m dating someone.

Actually, I’ve BEEN dating someone. For five and a half months.

I know, I know. I’m sure you don’t want to be exposed to all the juicy details about my ACTUAL dating life. The rhetoric was tolerable when the dates were hypothetical and nonexistent, and I certainly appreciate the sensitivity of the situation. However, I’m sure that you would agree that in order for me to get to Future Husband, I’m going to have to experience Current Boyfriend. And you’re just going to have to deal with it…(and hear ALL about it!)

I guess I should start from the beginning.

After all my talk of loathing the dating sites/apps, I must sheepishly admit that we met on…that’s right…a dating app. I was JUUUUST about to call it quits…again…and delete the app when HIS profile popped up. I thought he was handsome, wondered, “What if?” and decided to give it ONE. LAST. CHANCE. After all, it was free to “like” him and I had nothing to lose.

To my surprise, he initiated conversation pretty quickly. Then asked for my number. And then – get this – CALLED ME. Whoa. In the age of social media, NOBODY calls anymore. So far, so good.

When he asked me out for an upcoming Saturday night, I calmly, coolly and collectedly accepted, hung up the phone and then proceeded to go BAT SH*T CRAZY. In that moment I realized that I had limited time before our first encounter, and I was waaaaaay overdue for a hair appointment, had absolutely NOTHING to wear and my nails needed some TLC.

Thankfully, my amazing hairstylist managed to squeeze me in, last-minute, that Friday night. I emerged from the salon on cloud nine with my few grey hairs camouflaged and a fresh cut…only to quickly plummet back to reality when I realized that, in my “I have a date” giddy state of mind, I COMPLETELY forgot that one is not allowed to wash her hair for 48 hours following a coloring treatment. Which meant that the remnants of the dye would REMAIN on my forehead UNTIL I could wash my hair…a day AFTER the date. Ugh. I prayed he wouldn’t notice.

To boost my slightly waning confidence, I awoke early on Saturday to embark on an outfit-hunting mission. After hours of perusing, I triumphantly returned home with not one, but TWO, amazing, I-look-super-hot-and-he’ll-never-notice-my-forehead options. However, I swear something happened to the clothes on the car ride home because I hated both outfits the minute I stepped foot in my house. GRRRR!

So, I splurged on a gel manicure, found a presentable outfit, very strategically fixed my hair and headed to dinner. Here goes nothing!

Naturally, I was the first one there, so I waited for him inside.

And then he walked in…

I spotted him, he spotted me, we locked eyes, (cue the romantic music), he walked up to me…said “Hi” and proceeded to…SHAKE MY HAND…in front of EVERYONE (kill the romantic music). Awesome. I was logically convinced that every patron in the restaurant was now aware that we were on a first, internet-set-up date and that we had quickly become the sole topic of their conversation.

To this day, he SWEARS he didn’t shake my hand…but I would bet the future of our entire relationship on it. And I’m right…so…

Anyway, we grabbed a drink, waited for a table and had a lovely dinner. I guess our waitress didn’t see the awkward handshake because she referred to us as “her favorite couple of the night.” I’m not going to lie…I enjoyed her assumption.

Seven hours later, I told him goodnight. And, five and a half months later, we’re still going strong.

PS. He never noticed my forehead, but he DID notice my manicure. The primping paid off.

Xoxo,

Ima Waitin

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Future Husband, I Have News

Future Husband, Don’t Trust The Google

Dear Future Husband,
I have a theory: In today’s digital world, I truly believe that you can find ANYONE online if you have a first name and two pieces of personal information. It doesn’t matter what the information is, as long you have two unique bits.

For example, my friends met an eligible bachelor who they thought just might be you. Unfortunately, they only knew his first name, his current city of residence and the field in which he was employed.

Within MINUTES I was able to determine his last name, the correct spelling of his first name, the company for which he works, the address of said company, the college and graduate school he attended as well as the past three cities in which he lived. Oh yeah, AND a picture (or two). Jack. Pot.

DISCLAIMER: I am NOT a stalker. I’m just very curious. I promise.

Anyway, as demonstrated above, this knowledge comes in very handy when trying to date these days. It can also be very annoying when you (meaning me) try very hard to avoid disclosing too much personal information BEFORE the first date.

Therefore, assuming that everyone has my mad investigating skills, I asked my friend to Google my first name as well as two pieces of information that I had provided on my online dating profile. Just to see. The info was pretty generic and ambiguous (on purpose), so I felt rather confident that I would remain undiscovered.

So, my friend went about her Google search and giggled – no – BELLOWED with laughter when the results populated.
I. KID. YOU. NOT. THIS is what the Google produced:

Born and raised in the woods, by a pack of wolves, Ima never quite ‘fit in.’ She always wondered ‘who am I, really?’ After years on the road making a living as a…

I swear. SHEESH. Sigh. I give up.

On the bright side, at least it’s a conversation starter?? Maybe?

PS. If you’ve Googled me and said NOT GONNA HAPPEN, give me a second chance…I’ve come a long way since the woods.

Xoxo,
Ima Waitin

Future Husband, Don’t Trust The Google

Future Husband, Let’s Have Fun

Dear Future Husband,
Inevitably, on every first date, I am asked the following question:

“So, what do you do for fun??”

As soon as the words are uttered, I IMMEDIATELY panic as I simultaneously internalize my entire existence, which usually ends in me feeling like the most BORING PERSON EVER. I mean, I think I’m loads of fun, but OMG THE PRESSURE!

But, when presented with such a personality-defining question, one cannot remain silent.

So, I simply respond, “I write.”

Which usually leads to, “About what?”

YIKES. YIKES. YIKES.

“Well, you see, I write these letters about my dating life to my currently non-existent Future Husband, whom you just MIGHT be, but I have no idea as this is only our first encounter, and then I post them for the world to read since I obviously cannot share them with him at the moment. So, if you’re NOT my Future Husband, would you at least do something interesting/entertaining so that I have fodder for my next post??”

“Huh?”

And maybe that’s why I’m still single.

PS. I’m not dumb…I would never tell you about my blog on the first date: I’d let you find it on Facebook instead.
PSS. On the off chance that you would actually appreciate the above, you TRULY are my Future Husband.

Xoxo,
Ima Waitin

Future Husband, Let’s Have Fun

Future Husband, It Was Meant To Be Encouraging

Dear Future Husband,
Most of my very best friends (or those who have seen me through stressful life seasons) will want to warn you of my laughing/sobbing attacks. Though few and far between, I never know when one will occur. But once one starts, there’s no stopping it. Something – usually pretty innocent and not very funny at all – will trigger the laughter. Then, the laughter turns into crying. Then the crying turns into sobbing (massive tears and heaves and all). Then the sobbing turns back into laughter. And then it stops. And the world is lovely again.

I had one of these episodes last week.

You see, I woke up last Friday morning to a text message from my dear (married) friend who also happens to be a coworker. She had recently read an article and believed it would be encouraging to my single self. In her own words, “Thought of you when I read this…and yes I know you’re not Catholic! ;)”

The Catholic part is important because the article author was a blogger for a Catholic dating site, and the opening line read, “I left my job at CatholicMatch because I fell in love.”

Since I literally wake up 15-30 minutes before I walk out the door on any given day, I didn’t have time to read anything that morning. But, I made a mental note to read the article before the end of the work day so that I could thank my friend in person for sending me such thoughtful encouragement. So, later that afternoon, I sat in her office and began reading. I soon began nodding my head in agreement with most everything this OBVIOUSLY awesome girl had to say.

She was recently single. She joined the dating sites. She hated the dating sites. She started blogging about hating the dating the sites (and was then offered the blogging job). In my head I was saying, “Yes, GIRL!” and “I TOTALLY agree!” and “Right with ya, sister!”

I was half way through reading when my coworker had to step out of her office for a minute. When she came back, I was transitioning from the laughing to sobbing stage of the episodes I told you about. She IMMEDIATELY panicked, asked what was wrong and admitted she had only read half of the article. To which I replied, “OBVIOUSLY.”

I handed her my phone and showed her where to begin reading. I knew THE MINUTE she understood because she, too, literally LOLed.

The blogger – this amazing single woman – who reminded my friend of ME – DID, in fact, find the love of her life.

His name was Jesus, and she became a nun.

My “Right with ya, sister!” quickly turned into “NOT with ya, Sister!” And my friend, between laughs, apologized profusely.

As a Christian, I’m already the bride of Christ. I just hope to ALSO be the bride of a man. Because, babies.

PS. Thank goodness I’m not Catholic. Otherwise, I’d have to worry that my friend (or God) was trying to tell me something…phew.

Xoxo,
Ima Waitin

Future Husband, It Was Meant To Be Encouraging

Future Husband, It’s Nothing Personal

Dear Future Husband,

I am a very traditional young lady. For instance, I have EVERY intention of taking your last name once we tie the knot. However, I recently had an experience that shook my entire belief system. It rocked me to my core. It made me question EVERYTHING (yes, dramatic emphasis added for, well, emphasis).

What was this moment you ask? Well, I was matched on a undisclosed dating site with a young man whose last name was Woodcock. I immediately sent a screenshot to my mother via text with the caption, “Yeah, this isn’t happening.” To which my mother IMMEDIATELY responded, “IMA! You canNOT dismiss a man simply based on his last name. That is NOT OK.”

Apparently, she didn’t quite understand, so I helped her.

Ima: “But Mother, his name basically means ‘hard, uhm..well, you know…'”
Mother: “It could also just mean ‘wooden rooster’…did you ever consider that?”
Ima (to myself): “Nope, no I most definitely did not.”
Ima (out loud): “MOTHER! My name would be IMA WOODCOCK…did you consider THAT?!”
Mother: “Oh. Oh I see.”

So, dear future husband, IF your family name happens to be Woodcock, I might have to keep mine. I hope you understand, it’s nothing personal. I would just prefer to not have to excuse myself from the business world, effective immediately. Unfortunately, that means I’ll be a Waitin forever…

PS. How about #WaitinWoodcock for our wedding hashtag? Too much? Thoughts?

xoxo,
Ima Waitin

Future Husband, It’s Nothing Personal