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

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, Time To Reveal

Dear Future Husband,
If your social media accounts are anything like mine, they are probably flooded with posts, pictures and videos from the new-ish party phenomenon thrown by millennial preggos* and their hubbies – the gender reveal.

*Yes, I just referred to pregnant ladies as “preggos.” I, personally, don’t think it’s offensive, but this IS 2016 (and I’ve never been pregnant…) So, I’ll apologize in advance. I’m sorry. HOWEVER, I’m actually considering posting “my eggo’s been preggo-ed” to announce that we’re expecting one day. You’re allowed to veto (but you have to agree it’s stinkin’ clever).

Anyway, after watching a MILLION and ONE videos of couples biting into cupcakes, slicing cakes, releasing balloons, popping balloons, punting footballs, hitting baseballs, shooting targets or whatever creative method they choose, I began to realize…the reaction is ALWAYS the same. It usually involves cheering – nay screaming – a lot of jumping and oftentimes tears.

And I have the following questions:

1. Why is everyone SO surprised? I mean, there is a 100% chance that the result is either boy or girl. I’d agree that the screaming would be warranted if the announcement was that newly revealed baby girl would exit the womb holding a billion dollars…but…

2. Should a pregnant lady REALLY be jumping like that?

3. How is it that I’ve watched a million of these videos and not been invited to a single one?

But, alas, I continue to watch them…while secretly waiting for reveal that breaks the mold:

Couple bites into cupcake to reveal blue icing. Husband looks at wife and says, “Well dang. Try again in 9 months?”
or
Balloon pops to reveal yellow confetti with a note: “Your baby will inform you of its chosen gender in roughly 15 years. SURPRISE!”

Also, I’d like to point out that I’m pretty sure gender reveal parties back in the day were simply called “giving birth.” But whatever. I’m all for one more reason to celebrate and eat cake.

PS. If this is still a “thing” by the time we have kids, we’re totally doing it.
PSS. Remind me of this post when I INEVITABLY scream and cry…I probably won’t jump.

Xoxo,
Ima Waitin

Future Husband, Time To Reveal