Score.

No, not that kind of score, silly!

I've never been much of a dater. The time I used to spend with guys seemed to go, "Hey, you're pretty cute," then a minute later I'd be going, "What just happened?" You understand, I hope. However, I've recently found myself being asked on dates. Real dates. With boys. Real boys. Weird, right? It's not so bad. It can be pretty fun, even. Of course, I have one dilemma that is puzzling me.

While I expect to score a free meal on a date, the guys who ask me out seem to expect to just score. Do I come off as easy? Guys that seem perfectly suitable during dinner are a bit too handsy just an hour later. I'm not even particularly flirty. Heavens, I'll go out of my way to avoid hugging someone, even if they're just a friend. Let's be honest: I could even be classified as standoffish. Just holding hands and cuddling makes me feel dirty. I feel as though I've gone backwards on the scale of what I feel comfortable with physically. I guess that's why I call my past indiscretions a "phase."

What is with these guys? "Hm, I think I want to get some tonight, so I'll dish out 25 bucks for dinner with this hot blonde." (Yes. I am the hot blonde in question.) Then when they're driving themselves home without even a quick peck at the door, they're like, "Wow, I must be off my game tonight."

As the Pussycat Dolls have taught me so effectively: It's funny how a man only thinks about the -----.

Hey, remember that time when some girls told Red Tulip I made out with her ex? Do I have that kind of reputation? Really? REALLY?

That's it. I'm becoming a nun.