Have I told you about my spreadsheets?
I was out to dinner the other night and the topic of conversation was...topics of conversation. Like, what do people talk about over their meal?
My date was someone I've spent a lot of time with, so we'd pretty much covered all the usual subjects. Neither one of us cares about sports, and you can really only talk about the weather for so long before you want to stab someone in the face for talking about the weather. So we were talking about work, and how we could talk about his work because it is interesting and does not involve sitting at a desk in front of a computer for 8 hours, but that no one wants to hear about my job and that is okay because I don't particularly want to talk about it. And before I really realized what was happening, I was telling him about how sometimes, when it's really slow, I make spreadsheets where I try to list all fifty states. I feel like I've written about this before, which is weird, because you wouldn't think there would be a lot to say about spreadsheets full of states.
Anyway, I was telling him how I more or less list them in alphabetical order because it's easier to get them all that way, and he starts naming them off, beginning with the A's. (Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Arizona, for anyone keeping score). And then he stopped.
"Are you going to blog about this?"
"About my spreadsheets? No...well...I actually think I already did."
"No, about all of this. I was on a date, and we talked about states."
I told him I don't really blog about other people without their permission or if I do, I don't really identify them, which is sometimes true. But what do you know, here it is. A blog about going on a date and talking about states. And really, the state chatter was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to possibly terrible dinner date conversation. Because after we talked about how I organized my spreadsheets full of states, I talked about my cat and the time she tried to murder me. I talked about other dates I've been on. I'm thinking I should have thrown in some controversial political views and inappropriate jokes just to really round things out. It worked out okay though, because in the end there were fireworks, and as the saying goes, Fireworks cover a multitude of terrible conversation topics.
Something like that.
My date was someone I've spent a lot of time with, so we'd pretty much covered all the usual subjects. Neither one of us cares about sports, and you can really only talk about the weather for so long before you want to stab someone in the face for talking about the weather. So we were talking about work, and how we could talk about his work because it is interesting and does not involve sitting at a desk in front of a computer for 8 hours, but that no one wants to hear about my job and that is okay because I don't particularly want to talk about it. And before I really realized what was happening, I was telling him about how sometimes, when it's really slow, I make spreadsheets where I try to list all fifty states. I feel like I've written about this before, which is weird, because you wouldn't think there would be a lot to say about spreadsheets full of states.
Anyway, I was telling him how I more or less list them in alphabetical order because it's easier to get them all that way, and he starts naming them off, beginning with the A's. (Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Arizona, for anyone keeping score). And then he stopped.
"Are you going to blog about this?"
"About my spreadsheets? No...well...I actually think I already did."
"No, about all of this. I was on a date, and we talked about states."
I told him I don't really blog about other people without their permission or if I do, I don't really identify them, which is sometimes true. But what do you know, here it is. A blog about going on a date and talking about states. And really, the state chatter was just the tip of the iceberg when it came to possibly terrible dinner date conversation. Because after we talked about how I organized my spreadsheets full of states, I talked about my cat and the time she tried to murder me. I talked about other dates I've been on. I'm thinking I should have thrown in some controversial political views and inappropriate jokes just to really round things out. It worked out okay though, because in the end there were fireworks, and as the saying goes, Fireworks cover a multitude of terrible conversation topics.
Something like that.
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