Do I have something in my teeth?

First dates are without a doubt the best and the worst things ever.

You know that feeling where you are getting ready and just feel so great about yourself?
And then you know how when you smudge a little mascara on your eyelid and you tell yourself that you "knew this was a bad idea" and that you "never even should have considered going on a date in the first place"?

Then you resort to thinking up every possible excuse to cancel that doesn't sound cliche... and the best you can come up with is that there is "laundry that needs to be done... like...you know...
urgent
...laundry."

Then you remember that you are really interested in this person you're about to go on a date with. (Not to mention, you came to realize how lame your excuse was... Laundry? Really?)

So, you finally tell yourself that it will all be okay. Just be yourself! Smile! It'll all work out.

... then you look back in the mirror again.

GAH!

*Remove smudged mascara* Okay. Okay. They are supposed to like you for who you are as a person, not your perfect, or in this case, imperfect, makeup.

Let's focus on something different. Clothing! You need clothing.. duh. This will be easier than your little makeup fiasco, right?



Wrong.

What started as a perfectly clean room, all organized with a made up bed and everything suddenly turns into what looks like a post-tornado scene. You know, the kind where you can't see the floor from all the metaphorical debris and that there could legitimately be some poor creature trapped underneath, making muffled whimpering sounds... oh wait.. that's the dog. Sorry, buddy.

Yeah. So, you finally decide on an outfit (usually the very first outfit you picked out before the storm hit). And you tell yourself you're ready to go.

Alright. As you're walking up to the restaurant (knowing your date is just inside) you get that sudden fight-or-flight instinct. Obviously flight takes over and all you want to do is run, as fast as you possibly can (which, let's be honest... isn't very fast), in the other direction. But, of course, you don't. So, stomach churning and back of your neck sweating, you walk into the restaurant with your shoulders back and a large smile on your face.

I swear, looking at the menu is one thing... but reading it, truly reading it, is completely and utterly impossible. You say to yourself, "Focus. If you order whatever you see first you may hate it. And then you don't eat it. And then you look like one of those girls who has concerning eating habits. FOCUS. But I can't stop looking at my date. And when I look at the menu, I'm really just looking at my date in my peripheral vision. FOCUS."

Finally, you reach for an item that sounds familiar and hope it works out. You're so incredibly glad to have the menu portion of the evening out of the way. Wait... "Now what I do I talk about, since the menu is out of the picture? How long should I look them in the eyes while I'm talking? Did I really just talk about how cool the wallpaper in this place is?! Oh gosh. Now I'm having a hot flash out of embarrassment. Which means I'm blushing. Which means my date knows that I'm having an embarrassed-induced hot flash! NOW I'M BLUSHING MORE."

Okay. You take a nice, subtle deep breath... at least, hopefully it was subtle. You ask your date a question about them. Something generic, but not too generic. "Did you really just ask them about school? That's something their great aunts ask them over the holidays." Ugh. Just go with it.

AH! The appetizers are here. Yay! Something to occupy your mouth so it doesn't keep blurting these things out. "Mmm. This green leafy thingy is really good. Oh gosh. A green leafy thingy. Green leafy thingys tend to be extremely clingy to your teeth. Oh gosh. Try and give a soft smile. But don't show your teeth too much, just in case. Here slush around some water. Hopefully that should do it."

As your trying to slush some water around in your mouth you realize how stupid you feel for being so freaked out about such little things.

Then you look into your date's eyes and realize that they are probably feeling nervous, too. And so you give 'em a smile, and they return the gesture. And then you conclude that, in the end, it really doesn't matter.

Because you certainly wouldn't judge them for having a green leafy thingy stuck in their teeth.

After all, we are all just human.

And these are all experiences we will simply giggle about later.