Horrifically Brutal

Horrifically Brutal

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.

What the Eff?
Brutal. There's just no other word to describe it. Unbelievably, horrifically brutal. But not even just in the most obvious ways -- like that pesky total-refusal-to-kiss-me-on-the-lips situation. I actually had an "oh, s--t" moment watching me walk on the beach with Chris, whom I genuinely liked, and interrogate him, rapid-fire, like Barbara Walters on seventeen cups of coffee. As in ,"Oh, s--t, I had NO IDEA how bad I really was." Ick. I wouldn't want to date me. So aggressive! And even if he DID give me explicit permission when he said he liked a girl to chase him, I still shouldn't have done it. Damn it!

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.)

Back to Jr. High
Now all of that having been said, as it turns out, the dude HAD A GIRLFRIEND, and that's why he wouldn't kiss me (at least at first, then I'm sure he didn't want to kiss me because I was THROWING myself -- literally -- at him). Apparently he and his girlfriend had just had the DTR (define the relationship) talk the night before, but Chris didn't want to flake out on his friend Todd (you know, the one who thought "objectify" was a big word) who was trying to get into my roommate JP's pants. Thus the total confusion when I couldn't get a goodnight kiss out of him. We only found out after the date. Never heard from him again. Awesome! Totally not humiliating at all. Oh wait. Yes. Yes it was.

(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.

You can also find me humiliating myself somewhat less on Twitter @JuliaAllison or on Facebook.com/JuliaAllison or on my website xoJulia.com.



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