Julia is in shock about how terrible her date was.
Oh, dear. Where do I begin? (Shakes head.)
We see me at lunch with Keith, and it looks like I'm doing all the talking! Literally. All. Of. It. Fun! I don't feel like a total loser or anything watching that. If I look and sound visibly nervous, it's not your imagination: I was terrified. Everyone has their dream job -- for me, that was writing for ELLE. When I pitched them my Guinea Pig of Love column, it meant a lot to me (read the series, in which new columns will appear every week for the next seven). I desperately wanted to make a good impression, but I guess I just sounded desperate. Note to self: when feeling desperate STOP TALKING. Or just, you know, stop talking in general. Sigh.
Meanwhile, Amy looks insanely hot working out at the gym. Damn you, Amy! Anyway I do love a good ice-skating date, because I'm a dork, apparently, although I'm a little intimidated by Amy's discipline -- no hot chocolate? Girlfriend, I eat bags of chocolate on the regular. How else am I supposed to deal with stress? Go to the gym and be healthy?! Oh, wait. Hmm. Maybe Amy's on to something here. And then there's Emily, getting macked on hardcore by a rapper who basically wants to rub his face all over her body like she's a cat scratching post or something. (WHO TAKES SOMEONE TO A STRIP CLUB ON A FIRST DATE?!) It's damn amusing, because I relate to the say-yes-to-everything mentality with a heavy dose of f—k-why-did-I-just-say-yes-to-THIS? aftermath, which sometimes leads to a "I'M SAYING NO TO EVERYTHING EXCEPT CHOCOLATE." Which is the state I was left in after watching my double date with Chris this episode.
In fact, I'm pretty sure the entire last section of that date should have just been stamped with an enormous red circle with an X through it, like a no smoking sign. NOOO! It's the kind of date that makes you believe in old-fashioned dating rules like never, ever, ever kiss the boy first. (I thought we had all moved beyond those rules! Apparently not.) Plus, one more very small point: I have not before, nor will I ever again, play spin the bottle after the age of 9. WHY DID I THINK THAT WOULD BE A GOOD PLAN? I don't know. But trust me when I say it was not. (Beach volleyball, on the other hand, was unexpectedly entertaining.)
(Smashes head into wall again.)
So yeah, that's it for this episode. Please catch me humiliating myself again every week for the next six weeks at 10/9c.