What do you do when you are depressed and sad over your whole online dating experience and need an escape?

Why you go and visit some of your favorite friends in the whole entire world.  You visit family. You look at the ocean. 

That is sure to cure what ails ya. 

TENNIS

OK. So I said I was going to blog about something else. How un-date related can you get 

than the history of tennis... 

I wrote this for Square Magazine when there actually was a Square Magazine. 

“Take This: A New Look at an Old Sport”

I am not a sport person. I played soccer in 2^nd grade, and my memories of that experience are making dandelion necklaces in the outfield. I have perfected the spectator sport. Meaning, of course, that being the spectator is the sport. So here I am being asked to write about the “everyman” sport, tennis. The problem being that I am apparently not everyman (or woman in this case) and have never stepped foot onto a court in my life. My knowledge of tennis is limited: I know that at times I wear tennis shoes. I know Andre Agassi was married to Brooke Shields. I know the Williams sisters were on Oprah. 

My first approach is akin to Harold Hill in The Music Man. The Think System. I will learn all about tennis, and think really hard about tennis, and thereby will be able to write about it. And if I accumulate all the knowledge, it wont matter that I don’t really know what a backhand, forehand, or ground stroke are. My first foray into research I stumbled upon a YouTube clip of a match where a man smacked the ball, which then smacked into a pigeon flying by, killing it on impact. That wasn’t going to help me educate anyone on the sport, albeit fascinating (disturbing, yes, but fascinating nonetheless.) But as I learn more I gain a steady appreciation for this ten thousand year old game. 

Tennis was played as early as the 11^th Century by French Monks. They would hit the ball with their hand, but for obvious reasons, they thought that uncomfortable. So they wore gloves, which evolved into webbed gloves, until someone came up with the clever idea for the racket which they strung with sheep gut (ew). All this while the sport was gaining popularity with the nobility, who thought those Monks were onto something. But really, where would tennis be without Major Walker Wingfield. In the late 1800’s he patented the rules and equipment for what the game basically is today. But he called it sphairistike. It was a Greek word for “ball game” and thank goodness it didn’t catch on. This coincided with the wonderful invention by Mr. Goodyear himself, vulcanized rubber, which translated to a bouncy ball, thereby revolutionizing the game. 

It is a preppy sport. And a quiet sport. Where is the fun in a sport without heckling, I wonder. There is no “hey, racket racket racket, sa-wing, racket.” There are no taunts for offense during the serve, and you never hear “Aaair Baaaall” when it goes out of bounds. What good is a silent spectator. But then I learn that the harassing is covert. A passive aggressive approach from the inside, almost undetectable. It’s in the vocabulary. The word tennis is said to derive from the French word “tenez” which has many loose translations; play, take heed, or my personal favorite, take this- said as one player would serve to the other. I imagine it being shouted in the grunt of the serve, “TAKE THIS-UGH!” I’d yell. “What was that?” my opponent will ask. “Oh, nothing. Just Tennis,” I would say smugly. 

And then there is the scoring system. My romantic sensibilities think that it is sweet to have a game that uses the word “love” for points. As you serve you yell “Love,” so it must be the nicest game ever, I think. Until I discover its derivative and meaning. It came from the Dutch word “lof”- meaning “something for nothing.” Love is stated when a player has nothing. Love is the nice way of saying, “Sorry, bub. You have ZERO points. But I’m going to be nice about it and we’ll come up with a euphemism for zero. How about Love? Everyone loves love!“ I’m beginning to like this game. 

But I realize that I must actually play it. So I head to the Discovery Park in Pleasant Grove with my brother in law, a former tennis instructor at Ricks College. First we practice holding the racket. Then we practice swinging and stance. Then the rules and layout of the court are explained: the outside lines are for doubles only, you get two tries on a serve (any sport with a “do-over“ built into it is alright by me), and the infamous deuce. When the score is 40-40 you are at deuce, which is confusing, until I read that it is “deux du jeu,” French for “two points away from the game.” Well, if they just said that in the first place, people wouldn’t be so confused, I think. 

It seems forever before I actually get to hit the ball. And when I do, and this is the strange thing- it was fun. The scoring actually makes sense and it turns out I’m kind of good at this. I actually won a match. It was only one out of many, but still. I leave the court feeling excited. I am Every Man- I played tennis. 

OUT OF THE GAME

So after tonights date, I think I'm finally going to be out of the game, friends...


Oh.


Wait.


You thought that... 


No. 


No, I haven't been snatched up. 


I'm taking myself out of the game voluntarily, because I cannot handle the emotional turmoil of going on all of these dates. 


Seriously. 


I know you are all entertained. And I love to entertain you, really I do.


But I've kind of entered my own personal Hell.


I think tomorrow I will blog about something un-date related. 

ANTICIPATION

My Dad would always say that the best part of something was the anticipation for it. The anxious waiting, the daydreaming about the event, the planning and primping that goes into it. He believed that was a part of the whole experience, and enhanced the overall effect of whatever the occasion was.

I am mindful of that as I wait for my date tomorrow. 

I don’t know much about this guy, but we have emailed back and forth every day for over a week. I know that he has a graduate degree (in what, I have no idea), I know that he had a Lord of the Rings marathon last Saturday (yes, total nerd!), I know that he worked at Subway in Heber when he was 16 (I can't judge. I was at Del Taco). 

Random things. 

He sent me this about Harry Potter: 

(he wrote it awhile ago)

Top Ten Shocking Revelations in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

10) Harry realizes the past year of his life was just a dream, when he

wakes up one morning to find Dumbledore taking a shower in the

prefects’ bathroom.

9) Peeves? Gay as a French horn…

8) James Potter left his invisibility cloak in Dumbledore’s possession

merely as collateral for his massive gambling debts.

7) To open the locked room at the Ministry of Magic, one need only

sing the lyrics of a specific Huey Lewis & The News song.

6) In a Fight Club-like twist, Harry finally recognizes that Ron and

Hermione don’t actually exist, except in his mind. Go back and look at

the clues. It makes complete sense, I swear…

5) Dumbledore’s implicit trust of Snape stems mainly from Snape never

giving away that Dumbledore was a big Air Supply fan.

4) Wormtail ate all the Cracklin’ Oat Bran! I thought I smelled a rat…

3) Mistakenly convinced R.A.B. stands for “Raymond Burr”, Harry spends

his entire summer watching old Perry Mason TV movies, but ironically,

in doing so he discovers the vital clue to finishing his quest.

2) Though relieved to find out he is not one of Voldemort’s horcruxes,

Harry is soon dismayed to learn he is in fact housing the soul of

Peter Tork. (had to look this one up- Peter Tork was in the Monkees)

1) A dying Snape, defeated at the hands of Harry, utters his ominous

final words: “Fifty points… from Gryffindor…”

I mean really. Are you laughing hysterically? Because I was.

So here I am in anticipation of meeting him in person.

I can really understand why the Victorian era was able to maintain these sordid love affairs via letters. Because I’ve really enjoyed our emails. 

But what if I don’t really enjoy him?

Which then begs the question- is it these guys I’m going out with that have the problem, or is it me?...

Stay tuned...

It's the FINAL COUNTDOWN- do do do dooo.....do do do do doooo....

LINDA'S TOP 3 WORST DATES- EVER

the countdown begins

As per my promise, I am posting again. I am going to share with you a countdown of my worst dates I've ever been on. Revisiting these in my memories make me realize that I've been pretty lucky in these more recent encounters. (although, one of them does make the list...)

#3

Wheezy Hot Pots. 

Time: About a Month ago

Story: You’ve already heard about him, so feel free to revisit this post for all the gory details. I was going to post just one story per day, but this shouldn't count. So that takes us on to....

#2 

The Legends of the Fall.

Time: 1997, Freshman Year at BYU

At 18, I was still new to the whole dating world (except wait- that was 12 years ago, and I still feel the same way...)

It was a double date that I was set up on with a girl that lived across the hall from me in the dorms, Michelle. 

(Funny how life is- I have tons of pictures of her, and she was part of a tight knit group from that era, but I can’t remember her last name...)

Anyways, I don’t even remember who my date was. Couldn’t tell you a thing about him.

What I remember is her date and the movie... We'll call him JB. (because I think I DO remember his last name, and I'm pretty sure they are his initials).

We went to JB's parents house, to watch a movie. We ended up choosing Legends of the Fall, a movie which every one of us had already seen before, but it was new out on VHS (pause to giggle at that one) and this fellow's  family owned a copy.  

We watched the entire movie. 

And when it was over, JB said, “I am so sorry that I allowed us to watch that movie.” 

I was a little baffled, because we had discussed it, and we had all seen it already. I kind of ignored his comment. 

But then he said it again. “I am so sorry. That is not an appropriate movie." Again, this is after we watched THE WHOLE THING without comment. "I don’t know why we watched it," he said.  "I don’t know why I own it. I should just destroy it.”

Which is what he then proceeded to do. 

First he started pulling out the video tape. Yanking and pulling the ribbons over and over. But apparently that wasn’t good enough. He then starting throwing it hard on the ground. Then he started stomping on it. Then he took it outside, and I have such a vivid memory of this moment- he proceeded to smash it again and again into the concrete driveway. 

I think that was when we decided it was time to go home. 

Poor Brad Pitt. What did he ever do to him?

I'M BACK!!

Oh my goodness! 

Has it really been a month??

Forgive me, loyal readers. 

What can I say? The Fall TV schedule resumed, and all my writing went straight out the window... I mean, what would you rather do- write about the absence of any romance in your life to an unseen/unheard (most likely non-existent) audience, or watch the Biggest Loser while eating Double Stuffed Golden Oreos? (thank you Angela for calling the hotline and suggesting they make the Double Stuff- true story). 

I have had one more date since my last post. 

He owns a lot of guns. 

He left our date, at 10 pm at night, to go meet a guy in a parking lot in downtown Salt Lake City to buy some guns that the other guy had in his trunk. 

He said it was perfectly legal. 

I said it was shady.

He said that when Obama was elected he was sure all his gun rights were going to be taken away immediately (picture me rolling my eyes- A LOT) and so he sold all the guns he had at the time. He made more doing that then he made the entire calendar year at his real job. 

(Does that make anyone else thing that he had a small arsenal at his home?)

I then told him, “I think it only fair to tell you that I did vote for Obama.”

He didn’t know what to do with that information.

Needless to say, he hasn’t called since, and I’m not sad about that fact.

(side-note: realized that besides the post date text from Wheezy Hot Pots I’ve not heard from any of these guys... Which on the one hand I am glad about because I wasn’t too thrilled by any of them. However, there is that little part of me that is deeply offended. Because even if you don’t want them, you totally want them to want you!!)

Because of my long absence, I am going to commit to posting every day this week.

I have some tricks, and some treats, up my sleeve- call it a Halloween special!!

I also have yet another date on Saturday. This one I am kind of looking forward to, which inevitably means it will be a disaster... Time will tell...