I don’t know why I don’t just take my own advice and leave expectations at the door.

I wish I didn’t have expectations for anything or anyone.

There could be worse problems I could have; homelessness, being terminally ill, having no family or being in serious danger.

I wish I could make the pain go away. I wish this didn’t cause me such pain. I wish I didn’t care; genuinely didn’t care.

I use the word “I” too many times in this blog and sound like a spoiled, whiny bitch who takes everything for granted.

The funny thing is that in the real world I try my hardest not to whine and bitch and listen to everyone else whine and bitch at me – or “venting” as they like to call it. I’m the one always telling them it’s ok and that it’s natural to “vent.” Like a soundboard.

I just want a guy around my age to like/accept me who is not a loser (there are some dealbreakers that I won’t get into right now, but not all that many). Sometimes I wonder if I’m nobody’s type and belong in some alternate universe or in a home for the socially awkward.

So I go to the NFL party and its more than obvious that my friends want to hook me up with Mr. Unusual Name. I think my friend and her husband have had discussions on which of his friends would be a possible match for me. Other guys (who I don’t have anything in common with) were also there to watch the game, but they didn’t seem as eligible as Mr. Unusual Name.

Mr. Unusual Name is a very tall, good looking guy – and I expressed those thoughts to my friend while he was out of the room. I doubt he’s an asshole because my friends like him a lot. He also seems nice because he kept playing with their dog. Anyone who likes dogs is cool in my book. My single friend who lives far away would go gaga for this guy because she is very keen on his physical type.

For some reason my friend and her husband make it seem like magic is going to happen by putting two people in the same room. If only it were that simple.

“Am I supposed to act a certain way? Or do something?,” I asked. “Or should I just focus on the game?”

“Just be yourself,” she said. “ Whatever you do, don’t be someone you’re not…we’re all here to watch the game”

I agreed.

Besides shaking his hand, I didn’t get to talk with him at all. I tried to smile whenever I talked. Eye contact is very difficult for me, so I try to at least look at the face. I once had a teacher pull me aside in high school and tell me to look people in the eye. My vision is not the greatest, so my lack of eye contact could be attributed to that as well…plus it was dark. I can’t explain why I have trouble looking people in the eyes. I often wonder if I have Asperger’s or something. There’s such a disconnect between my mind and my body sometimes. I don’t know why eye contact is so scary to me. I have to know someone well to make eye contact with them, like friends, coworkers and family.

Anyways, we all focused on the game. Exciting as it was, my team lost and we all went our separate ways once the game was over.

I thought I smiled/laughed a lot, maybe too much. Whatever. I’m sure I’ll see the guy again at more of their functions.

All I can do is be nice and not fake. Sounds simple enough. Right?

I get the feeling, since the guy is a little bit younger than me, that he probably does not want to think about chicks right now. When I was his age, I was very annoyed when friends tried to hook me up. I had one friend in particular who wanted to match me up with all of her single guy friends. I didn’t really like these guys, but was nice whenever I saw them. They are all married now or engaged. In college, lots of people were trying to hook me up…not just friends, but classmates as well. I should have struck while the iron was hot. I think I’m more of a catch now than I was then. At least I think I look and dress better and have a job – and bought a home (that I can barely afford). I really don’t know what I would have to offer someone right now. I’m broke (so I can’t be a sugarmama) and I’m not arm candy. I don’t know how to cook, but I could learn. I’m not organized or a neat freak, but sometimes I try. I’m not very outgoing and people tend not to laugh whenever I think I’ve said something funny (I end up looking like an asshole).