Speed Dating Takes a Lot of Balls

my voice is lost. i’ve been talking in a very low squeak since i started this job. and it only seems to diminish once i leave work. i have developed a white-collar work voice, but it sounds pretty contained. it could use an upgrade, or four maybe. i say ‘good morning’ in a squeak and ‘thank you’ in a squeak. squeakity squeakity. in fact, i forget about my real voice until i get home, at which point, i yell and/or proclaim everything. just because i can.

today i drank steamed milk instead of coffee. i still don’t think my brain realizes it got tricked. in which case, i have gotten my zippyness off of hot milk today. i am really just a giant baby. who squeaks.

i’m going speed dating tonight. i’m not particularly worried or stressed about it. i’m just wondering what i’m going to have to do to make something exciting happen. i do have sort of a head start. i’m wearing this “pretty” silver necklace. lemme explain. almost every other woman who has seen it today has said, oh that’s such a pretty necklace. except i looked at it again more closely in the bathroom mirror because i put it on as an afterthought. and it’s a silver necklace with little pairs of metal silver balls hanging off of it. in fact, i thought to myself, it looks like a salute to testicles. a salute to testicles in an understated way. if speed dating requires me to call out the significance of my necklace in a public fashion, i shall have to do it.

so tell me about your necklace…
courtesy of Speedd8

5 thoughts on “Speed Dating Takes a Lot of Balls

  1. dink says:


  2. Ar-Jew-Tino says:

    I expect a post Monday about your speed dating adventure. If anyone’s rude about yur necklace, you have a ready-made answer: “At least they’re bigger than yours.”

  3. Golden Silence says:

    I hope yours was fun. I went to one back around Valentine’s Day that was hosted by ThingsToDoDC.com . It was held at Five (in Dupont), and the place was not conducive to conversation. We had to stand the whole time (women facing the window…men with their backs towards the window) and they were playing club music so we had to scream to talk to one another. We also couldn’t hear half of what they were saying. It was the same “where do you live? what do you do?” kind of stuff. And the men were either too short, too old, or too dorky. Not a pleasant experience.I hope you had a good time at yours, though.

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