Watch out for that burning bush

When in doubt, fear, or intense moments of awkwardness, beware-- I just might push you into a bush.

If the fact that I can't actually recall the last time a straight man bought me dinner (if this ever has occurred for that matter) wasn't enough proof that I have been single for a long time, what happened as we walked from my parking garage to my apartment Friday night should be proof enough.

I nearly pushed him into a bush.

In the words of Green Day, I walk alone. I walk alone. I walk alone. Not because I'm a smelly child and no one wants to walk near me, but more or less because most of the time I'm speed walking from one meeting or interview or mass or choir practice to another.

So much so that perhaps I forgot how to walk next to another human being. And so, as we rounded the corner near my apartment, while my brain was focused on trying to ease any awkwardness still existing between Seth and I, I cut him off. Perhaps gave him a little push even. Into the nearest bush.

Oops. So much for the first few minutes of our "first date."