It's a Match!

I love Elle. I enjoy that we can speak the same language as we are both stylists and work for the same company. Elle admittedly does not like hosting people. If you come to town you're on your own in regards to activities.

The first morning after I moved here I was alone in Elle's parents house with nothing but my phone and a small backpack of clothes. I spent the morning relaxing, watching Forensic Files on my phone. I drove around and explored the nearby cities a little. I found my new salon and brought them Chips Ahoy and introduced myself. I drove back to Loveland and found the movie theater. I saw the movie my dad had been gushing about on his blog. (Beyond the Madding Crowd? Something like that.) It was slow and boring and the presence of the delightful Michael Sheen was the only good part. ...it could be because my bladder was threatening to burst and kill me.

That night I laid in bed (in the guest room in Elle's parents' house) watching Forensic Files and pulled up Tinder on my phone, as I often do when I'm far from home. I am entertained by the profiles of the guys on there, and find it fascinating to see the difference between those in Utah County, and wherever I am. (I've done it in Las Vegas, Minnesota and now Colorado. I have a standing date next time I'm in Vegas, haha.)

There were a lot of hipsters, which makes sense now that I've been around Boulder and parts of Fort Collins. I always swipe them away. I swipe away everyone. I don't use it looking for a date, I use it as a sort of    entertainment, like reading Missed Connections on Craigslist.

There was a guy named Derrick. I...I just couldn't swipe it away... I closed out the app and reopened it. I looked at profiles for about an hour and Derrick popped up again...I closed out the app.

The next day, June 1, 2015 -- The Big Move

I slept in, despite the sounds of Elle packing up the bathroom outside the door of the guest bedroom.

I admit, and anyone can attest, I hate situations where I'm expected to follow someone's lead and clean a house, weed a yard, move boxes, do manual labor, pretty much any group situation where I can't go at my own pace. I fight so strongly against following someone else's timeline. Not externally, and not on purpose, I just caaaaaaaan't do it, I hate everything about it. Give me a project, give me general (not definitive) instructions, give me a deadline...right after the deadline comes and goes I'll get it done. My way.

So. Moving.

I helped put a few things in Elle's brother's truck. :)

I grabbed my backpack and purse and met Elle at her house. I set up my inflatable mattress (which I lovingly call The Inflatabed) and the standing shelf organizer thing I got at IKEA.

Then I sat on my floor, spacing out. While various men helped Elle bring in furniture.

While spacing out I played on my phone. I opened Tinder to waste some time. After a few unintentionally hilarious profiles and my subsequent swipe away, Derrick popped up. I almost closed out the app, but decided to swipe right instead. Moments later my phone buzzed with the little sound trumpeting "It's a Match!"

A few minutes later I had a message from this guy, saying "you sure have a pretty smile."

Ok, boy. Let's do this. I love the first get-to-know you, it reminds me so much of my AOL days. I rocked chat rooms as a 12-year-old. I a/s/l'ed with the best of 'em.

So I responded. And to read the last page of the book first: I kept responding; it has been 7.5 months, I haven't stopped responding.