Double Dating for Dummies

Dating can be awkward. There are those forced conversations and first kisses and finding out he likes Battlestar Galactica to deal with. And then there’s double dating, which is like playing Russian Roulette, except that when the date goes wrong, you’re praying for there to be a bullet in that chamber. Having been on both the good and bad kinds of double dates, I consider myself an expert. Thus, I have decided to impart all my wisdom to you, dear readers, using examples from my own experiences, so that you too will know not just what kind of double date you are on, but how to fix a bad one.

Good: Both guys compliment their dates on how cute they look.

Bad: Both guys compliment the other girl on how cute she looks. Hopefully your guy does damage control when he realizes you’ve been left out of the compliments. However, if they then start talking about how awesome it is that she weighs 96 pounds and that American girls are all fat, you have a bigger problem on your hands.

Solution: I recommend going the petty route: remind the boys that she is as flat as a concave washboard, she has no rear to speak of, and that if you tied a string to her belt buckle, you could use her as a kite. Then order the most expensive entrée, and a couple appetizers off the menu, plus the chocolate explosion dessert, and eat it all. Make sure you smear a little extra chocolate on your face to “save for later.”

Good: A few days before the date, your guy gives you a necklace to wear; on the day of the date, you wear it, and the other girl compliments you on it.

Bad: A few days before the date, your guy gives you a dress to wear; on the day of the date, you wear it, and the other girl comments, “Oh, I’m glad you found someone to give that old thing to. I was getting so sick of it gathering dust in the closet.”

Solution: Ugh. Well that’s embarrassing. Devise something good for his punishment for after the date. In the meanwhile though, a comment like, “I can see why you didn’t wear it! This thing would look awful on you!” should shut her up. Or, if it starts a catfight, you don’t have to worry about her tearing your dress, because you know you’ll never wear it again anyway.

Good: Everyone tosses back a few beers and the conversation stays light and engaging.

Bad: The other girl tosses back a few too many, including the rest of your drink, as her boyfriend drones on about the wrestling championship he won in high school, how much he could drink in college, and how much he makes now.

Solution: If you don’t feel like joining his girlfriend in her anesthetized state, it’s time to take action. Either bet her boyfriend something, like “I bet you can’t still do 50 push-ups in one minute” and then hope that the wait staff at the nice restaurant you’re at asks him to leave when he tries, or entertain yourself by making up lies about all the awesome things you’ve done to top his stories, getting him more and more frustrated and eager to out-do you until he leaves of his own accord, red-faced, and yelling obscenities while you sit there calmly and smile sweetly.

Good: The other couple grabs you a drink from the bar on their way back to the dance floor.

Bad: The other couple grabs your ass on the dance floor, as they make their way to the bar.

Solution: Well, if you’re into that sort of thing, this might not be bad. However, I could also see how some of you prudes might find that uncomfortable. If that’s you, I’d suggest either keeping their hands full of drinks so they can’t do that again, or sucker punching some big guy on the dance floor and blaming it on the other guy on your date. After he gets beaten up, he and his date will leave, and the danger of an orgy will be gone.

Good: The other girl on the date talks at length about how much she likes your shoes/earrings/clothes/etc.

Bad: The other girl on the date talks at length about how much she likes your boyfriend’s bed and misses sleeping in it.

Solution: There is no hope for a happy ending here, at least with your current date. If her boyfriend is cute, try starting a game of footsie, and maybe you can trade. If not, excuse yourself to the restroom, and make a run for it after telling the host or hostess that you overheard “those people” talking about dining and dashing.

Hopefully these few examples will help clear up any misconceptions about the quality of your double dates. If you still can't tell what kind of double date you are on, clearly you need to read my book, Double Dating Is Not For You.

Now that I’ve got Marci & Curtis living only 5 miles away, my number of "bad" examples will likely decrease. At least, so far so good. This weekend we grilled while Jackson & Sydney (doggie double date!) got acquainted, as well as toured the zoo. Marty & Laura, Corey’s friends, are more “good” double date examples, as demonstrated by tonight’s dinner and new-bike-admiring session. All in all, a good couples weekend!

Top Left: A bear in a tree; Top Right; My badass boytoy; Bottom Left: Marci feeds obnoxiously loud birds; Bottom Center: Curtis the man very reluctantly poses with Curtis the Gorilla; Bottom Right: I test out my new bike, wearing my helmet because driveways are dangerous.

Forgetting Sarah Mapes

This past weekend I learned something about myself. I am NOT a quitter. Come snow, rain, sleet, hail, or 1.75L of margarita, I will not quit until the job is done. Father Dearest was a big proponent of this Never Quit attitude, and that combined with my Irish roots made for an excellent weekend. And by excellent, I mean, I had to convince a blurry paramedic that I was completely in control of my faculties and I got up close and personal with a few bushes that got to enjoy my margarita too. Thousands of miles away though, I was not the only one enjoying my weekend. I received this voicemail (spoken in the tune of what a Sine wave might sound like):

“Hello Sarah Mapes, this is Lindy Mapes calling you to say ahwuuusabbptttthh [unintelligible, but sort of like a cross between a wassup and a howl]. Hey you we’re out playing, uh, bar golf muchas mucha da de martega es muy bien [that’s as close as I can get to figuring our her drunk Spanish] um anyhoo we’re driving somewhere in a taxi right now so I don’t--Owwww my head just hit on the ceiling now my head’s squished against thinggggggggggggs. Anyway I hope that you have a fun night and I’m happy to say you are coming home soon and I just definitely want to go thing with the paddles and the boats. Anyway I love you beeeeeeep.”

The next day, her comment on said message was, “What message?” which is how I felt about most of my Saturday too—if I don’t remember it, did it really happen? I may not believe it actually happened, but I do enjoy storytime the next day, something Anika and Eleanor were so kind to help out with. All in all, a successful trip.

Stay Tuned for my next Pulitzer-Worthy Post: Double Dating for Dummies

The Top Ten Things Google taught me about the Mapes family

10) I’m as American as apple pie. Probably more so. The Mapes family came over with the pilgrims, and no cold winters or Oregon Trail diseases could kill us off. Also, every Mapes in American history can be traced back to one dude named Thomas Mapes. Apparently, he was known as a ladies’ man throughout the pilgrim villages.

9) My immediate family is not very famous, compared to all the other Mapes’ out there. The first of us to appear in my search was Casey, on page 11. I went through the first 50 pages, and none of the rest of us were mentioned... That being said, Mary Mapes, the disgraced CBS journalist made up a good 40% of the hits.

8) Oddly enough though, in all those 50 pages there were ZERO Sarahs, Lindys, Melissas, or Lauries. The only Casey was actually our Casey. And there were a few Johns, but no Jons. Who knew SARAH was an unusual name??

7) I may not be famous in regular web searches, but I’ve got TWO photos in the top 20 image pages! Although, Lindy got me in the State Press, so I have to give her some credit for that one.

6) At one point in time, there was a lawsuit called Mapes v. The United States Government. I don’t know who won, but I didn’t get any money, sadly.

5) My great-great-uncle (the one who invented the Toe Loop in ice skating…still called the Mapes jump in roller skating) also co-starred in the 1938 movie Zero Girl. Sadly, Rotten Tomatoes didn’t have a review of it, to tell me if it’s worth renting.

4) Despite its historic status, the Mapes Hotel, in Reno, NV, was torn down several years ago. I knew that part already. What I didn’t know, was that their slogan was “Where the Action Is”…which I figure is more than appropriate for my family, and I’m going to lobby that we 86 the “Fortis in Arduis” (strength in adversity) on our family crest and replace it with the Mapes Hotel slogan.

3) The city of Mapes, ND is 1/3 as large as my high school in Anchorage was. Of their 1079 residents, there are 3 Asians, 0 African-Americans, and 1076 Caucasians. No wonder I’m so white…my relatives have been self-segregating for ages.

2) There is a punk band in Las Vegas called The Mapes. Their “hit” single is “I Gotta Get Drunk.”

1) Meet Roger Mapes. I think I see the resemblance.

0) The existence of this list is proof of my pathetic life.

Birthday Post

I could probably get a PUI for posting under the influence, but here we go. Today was my birthday. I played a lot of beer die with Nathan and lost every game. Then we went to The Glenn, which, coincidentally, lets people drink free on their birthday. So I did. Several top shelf margaritas in, we switched to mimosas. I destroyed Nathan at Trivial Pursuit and made fun of him for hitting on the very un-attractive waitress, then the DJ showed up and the night got 17x better. First he dedicated Prince's Purple Rain to me (apparently today is Prince's 50th...guess he and I both hit milestones today), THEN, he actually played my Tech N9ne song!! Woooo! And that brings me to now, where I'm attempting to type this post. Soooo...here's the only picture I was able to take today, and it's blurry. Like my vision. G'night!

California Love

You might not know this, but my family is a bunch of high achievers. My dad climbed Mt. McKinley to earn money for children suffering from cancer and now works on the cutting edge of oil drilling technology, in demand all over the world; my mom runs the most successful weight management clinic in all of Alaska, a business she built from the ground up with no prior medical knowledge; my sister Lindy hangs out with Shaq, Jordin Sparks, and the Texas Rangers as a star photographer while getting published in elite medical research for her science writing; my sister Melissa writes a weekly column in ASU’s newspaper and has been recruited to write for national college publications; and this past weekend my sister Casey rowed her team to an NCAA National Title and was selected as Honor Student of the Year in Chemistry for Western Washington University. Yeah, we’re cool.

So I flew out to Rancho Cordova, California Thursday night to watch the races, and met up with Dad & Lindy. The first race for WWU was their 8 boat, and they won by 16+ seconds, a huge margin, and the largest one of the day…thus far. You can see here how their boat has long passed the finish line, and the other two boats in the race are still working their way there.

Casey races in the 4 boat, and their race was even more of a domination than their teammates’ race had been. They won by nearly 19 seconds, which is a lifetime in this sport. After their excellent performance, we celebrated with a picnic. Dad & Lindy and I took the long way there, attempting to bypass security and sneak into the athletes-only area. In the process, we found abandoned mailboxes, wild turkeys, and barbed wire, but were eventually successful in our subterfuge.

We showed off our impressive Mapes-ism to the other WWU rowers and their family, by being first in line for everything food-related. Every time. The ducks and geese decided to follow our lead and also be ravenous. In fact, they kind of took over for awhile. Probably didn’t help that Lindy was feeding them.

Saturday I got to spend the afternoon with Joyanne and her friend Kathleen, and we went to Old Town Sacramento to tour the Railroad Museum and the old school house. Saturday evening was picnic #2 for the team, and another day of feeding ducks. This little girl just wanted to step in their poop. Daddy said no, but she couldn’t resist...

Woo! Sunday! Finals day! Dad and Lindy and I wore our Viking hats proudly, and threw up our Westside gang signs to intimidate the competition. Casey’s race was first, and it wasn’t long until they had pulled into open water and had cemented their win. The Varsity 8 boat raced 20 minutes later, and their win ensured a team victory! My sister is an NCAA Champion! Now we could relax and watch the rest of the races.

The awards ceremony was short and sweet (it was too hot for long speeches!) and every rower on the WWU team walked away with a personal trophy and a gold watch. They showed off their guns for the group pic…intimidating, much? They celebrated by throwing their coxswains in the water and then it was off to the airport for the goodbyes. Can’t wait until next year!

Here are alllllllll the photos: