“I don’t know what to blog about…” I complained to my younger sister last Thursday. (Note: I’ve had plenty of ideas since then, but have been too distracted by job interviews and appeasing the whims of cute nephews to put them into practice).
“You should blog about your blind date!” she suggested with great amusement.
“I can’t do that!” I protested.
Not because I’m embarrassed to admit I went on a blind date; I did it more for writing material than as part of the search for a soul mate. I figure everyone should go through a blind date at least once in their lives and the sooner I get this over with, the better. (I hardly share my friend’s enthusiasm for serial dating, it seems like a lot of hard work with little reward. But it may be a question of personality; for me, going for coffee to small talk to men I don’t know and therefore haven’t had a chance of assessing as boring or not is a decidedly less attractive prospect than a visit to the orthodontist. Are you kidding me? I had the most awesome orthodontist in
the world New Jersey and since I had the somewhat celebrity status of possessing the smallest mouth ever to wear braces of his making, I would come in frequently for visits and earn lots and lots of those wooden coins for good behavior which I then used to bribe my sisters to do my chores). This blind date was also a concession to dear friends, a happy couple who had met that way themselves and were now eager to spread the love.
So the couple-with-child-and-stroller-chaperoned shotgun meeting at Tim Hortons wasn’t particularly embarrassing or traumatic.
But I am loathe to write more mostly because the guy in question was, in spite of some shortcomings (although there is probably a more appropriate word to describe a height of 6’ 10’’ as a drawback) rather nice, and definitely too nice to be made into food for jokes by the general public (bribe my sisters, they’ll tell you more, although beware the currency has changed since 1996).
Romance in the air? Hardly. He is, as the oracle (my family at the kitchen table) decreed, probably too nice for me to be interested in him.
“Fine,” she conceded. “So blog about food!”
I didn’t feel particularly culinarily-inclined in the wake of the butternut squash disaster (try finding a good recipe for butternut squash which is salty and not a soup), so I gchatted our other sister for suggestions.
Given the two have exactly identical DNA, I should not have been surprised at the answer she gave.
“Blog about your blind date!” she blithely suggested.
“I can’t!” I replied, following with a recap of all of the above.
“Oh well, then, blog about food!”
And so dear readers, the general opinion is that, barring my personal life, the most interesting thing I can blog about is food. I suppose it is sort of a scandal that I haven’t blogged yet about something which defines the French culture as much as food.
But the megabus internet connection is failing me once again, so you will have to wait until tomorrow for some mouth-watering information not of the orthodontist variety.