Why Bother indeed, Rivers Cuomo?

Crazy, Stupid, Love is another one of those movies that ruins real life. Regardless, after this and Drive, I am feeling a completely hetero man crush on Ryan Gosling. I just want to be him, that's all. Really, movies like CSL feeds you a sweet message, but fills it all with unreal, beautiful, witty people. I'm sure that's a measured decision: some genius realized we don't find ugly--or perhaps even average--people interesting in the same way.

So blind dates in general are pretty nerve racking. And one would assume a blind date on the pretense of a double date would be a great way to cut that anxiety. But the problem with a double date is that it is a crutch. And here we are trying to heal the wound that is the meeting of strangers. Simple fact of the matter is, you need to be alone with a blind date to get that normal first date get-to-know-each-other stuff out of the way. The crutch won't let you do that. Conversation just goes along the axis of friends and those two nervous kids on the blind date get maybe a handful of exchanges of conversation. Where a normal first date would yield the simple information as job, family, goals, and touch on items which would get the ball rolling on gauging whether you actually want to spend time with this stranger...a double date halves those opportunities. So we're left with my not being sure of whether to move on to the usual second date. Because here I am with a comlpete feeling of...meh. And honestly it usually takes more to extend my effort into pretending to care, misanthropic as it sounds. I know it's just me, but geez, human interaction is draining. Talking? With a stranger? Pretending to be interesting? Ugh.

I can't help but feel guilty about that. Here I am, potentially handing out rejection in this world, where I should be the type that feels there's enough of it out there as it is. And, again, I'm of the opinion most everyone should get that second date. But if that absolute feeling of "meh" is so pervasive that it can't drown out my usual tendency to avoid even mild social anxiety..? Guilt can't help but gnaw at the fact there are girls that wouldn't give me a second date, and here I am deciding fate on the obviously stilted first impression of a handful of words over bullshit quesadillas.

I'm a ping pong here. If the immediate attraction isn't there, I can't help but feel so...tired. I want to WANT to get to know her better. The thing is, usually, if my gut check on "connection" yields a negative and my gauge on attraction is a negative, then the case is closed. Simple math that we all do. But that "connection" test is flawed in this case. What if it was a false positive? That question always lingers on any first date, but one in which we exchanged fewer words than we would have at some random party? Hell, I'm at a point in my life where even if the negative was true for both tests, I still feel bad about rejecting a human being. Through the night I had the feeling the "meh" was mutual, but here I am with a cell number I didn't have at the beginning of the night. The ping pong is still getting hit. And there's this bullshit feeling that I have an obligation to the friend that set this scenario up. What emotional ransom. All around.

And herein lies the problem with Crazy Stupid Love. Emma Stone would get that text, that call, becasue let's face it, whether or not I'd gotten a positive on that connection test, that attraction test would be pinging. But I'm not Ryan Gosling and she was not Emma Stone. Should I stop looking for Emma Stone, knowing this? Reason would say yes. But shit. Is this as good as it gets? Or do I have celuloid psychosis? After all, my zombe preparation is only half-ironic. Maybe. No, seriously. Kidding. No, seriously.