I've been doing this blog for 10 weeks so I decided to switch it up. As a reward to myself, I let my date turn the tables. I became the guest and he was the host.

I caught this week's date staring at me at a queer dance party. I had to leave with my friends so I told him to look at missed connections the next day. He replied right away with two apologies:
A. He was taken aback when I was so forward and introduced myself, so he was awkward.
B. He had a boyfriend... but he still wanted to hang out.
Well, I'd heard that story before, but I invited him to dinner anyway. Surprisingly, he said I should take a break and he would cook for me. It's about time!
Company
Anniversaries are best celebrated in groups. Even big anniversaries for couples are more fun when their friends are present. This anniversary was no different. I arrived at an old Victorian full of cool, interesting people who immediately took me in. My host lives in a collective-like house where they share groceries, meals, and space comfortably and fluidly. While my host cooked and chatted with me, one person made ice cream, yogurt and granola, another read heavy philosophy, one played with the cat, one broke a measuring cup, and another swept it up.

Host vs. Guest
Dinner was enjoyable and conversation was lively, but I found myself feeling out of place. They shared stories about ghosts in the house and I had ghost stories of my own, but I didn't feel like they applied. My host told me about planting an olive tree with his medicine group that day, but I couldn't think of one thing I had done in the past 12 hours. We just weren't each others style. They had great, creative energy but it didn't stimulate mine (and mine didn't contribute to theirs). I had even brought TJ's gluten-free brownies for dessert, but completely forgot about it sitting in my bag. I don't know the chemistry behind the mixture of flavors; why some things taste great together and others are disgusting. People work the same way, but it's unexplainable. Perfectly nice and interesting people can be of no interest to me and vice-versa.
My host and I agreed on one thing: we hated being served. I tried to help cook and clean up, but I repeatedly got in the way. When he filled a glass of water for me to drink, I felt awkward standing right next to him. I could do it myself. I realized that I am the cook and I like to give to people. Even though the idea of someone making dinner for me sounded great, I am most comfortable when I am on my own turf and play by my rules.
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