Cousin O said it was mean for me to say what I did about my date, T, implying he might benefit from dating lessons. In my defense, T admitted upfront he was an awkward, clumsy dater. And if you need further reason to not think me too harsh, here it is:

During a drunken (high?) call very late Saturday night, T rattled on about how much fun he had with me and what a great gal I am ("gal" is my word, not his. I WOULD love to be called a "great gal" though, just in case anyone was wondering). It was all positive, even if it was under the influence, until he implied, in a quick-passing sentence that maybe I was the kind of girl who didn't need to be taken on a "proper" date. 

I called him on it. Pointed out he'd just insulted me. Also pointed out I WAS NOT that kind of girl. Not for him, anyway. He began saying more complimentary things, but I wasn't done being upset. When I reminded him, he apologized and then seemed to not even remember the offense. That's when I decided not to hold anything he'd said against him, hung up and sent off an email, telling him just that. And adding a bit more about me being able to decide, from date to date, exactly what kind of girl I'll be. Haven't heard from him since. What have I learned from this? Seriously, I'm asking.

On to bigger and better. And I mean that in every sense of the words. 

My PSA for the day: If you wish to make an hour last really, really long, watch The Secret Life of the American Teenager. Yikes. (that's for you, S, D, M and K)