Dating 101 : Don’t Get Drunk

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Turns out I date men who love alcohol.

I blame it on the 20-something culture where being social means you’re drinking. Gloss over any state of discomfort with booze and you are golden.

Whatever the case, I’ve been with my fair share of men that had an unhealthy relationship with booze. Now, don’t get my wrong, I am known to imbibe. I have a weak spot for whiskey and beer, and it’s hard for me to turn down an invitation to grab drinks. That being said, I know my family history, I’ve heard the horror stories, and my type A personality has a firm grasp on where to draw the line. Approximately three times a year I put myself on a cleanse, which basically means I abstain from alcohol for a month, existing on a diet of vegetables, eggs, and little else. Fuck yeah I feel amazing. Fuck no it’s not sustainable. If there were ever a time to throw up one of those cliché cartoon magnets that says “life is too short to not eat chocolate and drink wine”, it would be now.

I recently met a man and we set our first date at a nearby pub. The banter was friendly, I was pleasantly surprised by his 6’4” stature, and he threw down some one-liners that actually made me laugh. I like to think of first dates as interviews, and this fella deserved a second one, ASAP. A prolonged hug and innocent smooch left us making tentative plans to hang out this weekend. Saturday rolled around, and after spending the day hiking, I found myself at least 40% excited to see this gentleman. While that might not seem impressive… it is. I hate small talk and dating. So, while the temptation of my hound dog and my new apple spice tea (LEAVE ME ALONE, I KNOW I AM 80 YEARS OLD) nearly led me to cancel, I channeled my inner “dater” and we set a time to meet. A few minutes later he sends over a text along the lines of, “I’ll most likely be intoxicated, FYI.”

Fellas. Here’s the thing. If you’re into a lady, think she’s kind of cute, might want to kiss her face, DO NOT GET DRUNK BEFORE YOUR SECOND DATE. There’s such a thing as class. And being a gentleman. And giving a fuck. Granted, I’m not a high maintenance gal. Anything traditionally romantic gives me the heebie jeebies. My high school boyfriend once filled my room with candles and poetry he wrote for me, and I nearly cried because I thought he was hiding in my closet to “surprise” me. It doesn’t take much to woo me, but I like men to at least give a little bit of a shit. I like them to at least pretend to make an effort to win me over. Needless to say, I sent a snarky text about being stone cold sober and choosing baking and my dog over him, and proceeded to have a lovely Saturday night in.

Moral of this story: if you are a normal, smart, handsome man who isn’t addicted to alcohol, please give me your number.

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Asking Men Out… Or Not.

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I am terrified of rejection. Absolutely petrified. I also hate being new at things, so I just remain pleasantly mediocre, as mastering anything is difficult and my impatience trumps everything else. I’m a catch y’all, I promise.

How many of you babes out there have asked a fella out? Is that what modern women are doing these days? It seems like it’s in line with being a bad ass bitch. Going for the gold and asking out the man you’ve got your eye on. I envision it to be a lot like how they portray it in the movies. Strutting over and writing your number down for them, winking as you leave. Totally seems like something I should be able to do, except I never carry pens and look like I’m having a seizure when I try to wink.

Ask a man out on a date?! Nope… Won’t do it, can’t make me.

I have asked one boy out. He was this tragically handsome man at the farmers market in Austin. He sold over priced pate with beautiful labels, and I would go sample their vegetarian white bean dip so I could smile at him. He had terrible tattoos that were charming, and a beard that I would have touched if that wasn’t creepy. You know, he was my type. Down to the “could be homeless” look that makes me weak in the knees. Needless to say, I got up the courage to ask him to my company’s party and it was the WORST. I was visibly shaking, and I’m fairly certain I took four laps around all the stalls before getting the nerve to saunter up and ask him.

His response? He blushed and got shifty, turning his eyes away from me as he fumbled with some tubs of goose liver. Turns out he had a girlfriend (the tragically handsome ones always do) but he said he’d love to join me if he didn’t, and went on to tell me I had made his week. He said no and my world didn’t fall apart. In fact, we started up a casual friendship that involved hugs and following each other on instagram. I wasn’t scared away from the market, and I didn’t melt into a pile of sadness at his rejection. I have also now checked “ask a guy out” off my list, and I am once again scared shitless to do it again.

I think this feeling goes hand in hand with the fact that I don’t trust men. Not even a little bit. I don’t think their intentions are real or genuine and I think they are ALWAYS looking for greener grass. Yep… I’m the worst. And I know that this jaded and cynical behavior will result in being alone forever.  I could benefit from going to therapy — but couldn’t we all? Needless to say, my complete lack of confidence in men takes asking them out completely off the table.

So what do I do about this ridiculously good looking boy who sells me coffee at ANOTHER farmers market? (I KNOW, I KNOW… I’M A WALKING PNW CLICHE, GET OVER IT.) He’s the kind of handsome that makes me blush. And while I’m fairly certain he’s only 23, I’ve thrown my age rule out the window as of late, so I give zero fucks. My attempt to woo has been batting my eyelashes and talking to him for two minutes every weekend. I buy an unnecessary cup of coffee that pushes me to heart palpitation status, just so I can ask him how his week is going. Ugh. It’s the worst. I am a grown ass woman, and I’m acting like a god damn 15 year old.

I have lamented to L about my fear of asking dudes out, as she treats it like it’s no big thing. Oozing confidence and sass, she goes for it, and is willing and able to ask for a number, a whiskey and a kiss. It’s no surprise that she’s schooling me at dating, as she’s MUCH MUCH more trusting, has the ability to give people the benefit of the doubt, and is generally better at being an adult human being. In her opinion, I should just do it. I should throw caution to the wind and ask him to go hiking or biking or rock climbing, all things he probably does because he’s a walking DREAM BOAT. Instead, I will bide my time and ever so slowly insert myself into his life. I mean, we finally know each other’s names after 6 months, so we are making serious progress.

Shut it L, I can feel your judgment from here. Baby steps y’all, baby steps.

Being Single on Valentine’s Day

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So Valentine’s Day is this weekend.

I was on a date (of sorts) last night and he mentioned running to Mexico because, “Fuck Valentine’s Day.”

While I am always a fan of impromptu trips to sunny places, I laughed at him.

Laughed in his face and then called him ridiculous. This is why I’m calling it a “sort of” date. He doesn’t live in my city, so I give zero fucks about being impressive, charming or pretty. It means I can stare at his handsome face, give him shit when he is being silly, and still kiss him goodnight. If you haven’t noticed, out-of-state cuties are my thing, So, I do what I do, and had to laugh at his disdain for Valentine’s Day.

It’s just another day.

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I understand feeling mopey… kind of. I also know that when you’re in a relationship, Valentine’s Day is an excuse to eat expensive food and give adorable gifts. That’s how I always defined Valentine’s Day when shacked up, so why change now? It’s always been a day of decadence, and that idea has just followed me to my single life. And not in a self pitying “feel bad for me” way. It’s just a day I’ve always found an excuse to indulge in delightful things. Not having a fella is most definitely not going to change that.

If you know me at all, you’ll know that Parks and Rec is my absolute favorite. I want to be a Leslie Knope/Donna/Ron Swanson hybrid when I grow up. Which means Galentine’s Day is right up there with Christmas.

I have always had a group of best gal pals. They are my people. From my bestie of 27 years, to my college ladies, to the babes in Texas who know me better than most, these friendships matter.

My definition of happy is to surround myself with folks who keep me sane. And my babes? Well, they just get me. I am fiercely loyal to these ladies, and my life is so much brighter because of them. What better day to celebrate our friendship than Valentine’s Day? It’s an entire holiday dedicated to love, after all.

While self-pitying singledom has its place, so does celebrating the relationships in your life that give you purpose. This Valentine’s Day will be full of hound dog strolls, morning coffee with my family, Discovery park runs, and a Galentine’s Day brunch. I will gather with 10+ badass women and we will celebrate each other over frittata, champagne and Bob Dylan records.

In the evening I will most likely slap on some red lipstick, pal around with L and B (my beautiful single ladies), order a large glass of Bulleit, and bat my eyelashes at handsome men.

Not too shabby, if I do say so myself.

In honor of this day filled with self-celebration and love, I took a page out of my person’s notebook and made a mix. Always known for her mix tapes to fill any occasion, nothing gets an emotion across like a random hodge podge of songs.

Bottom line, no matter what you find yourself doing on the dreaded/adored/whatever V-Day, do it with love.

Entanglement, Handsome Bearded Men & Doing What I Want

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There’s this scientific phenomenon called quantum entanglement. Two particles, struck in a certain way, will affect one another, distance be damned. One is disrupted, the other follows suit.

I learned about this from Invisibilia, a wonderful podcast created by two women fascinated by the intangible forces that shape human behavior. If, like me, you’re pining for more Serial or wait anxiously for new episodes of This American Life and Radio Lab, you’ll fall for this podcast, hard.

I promise I will relate this back to dating, but I DID warn you that my “first date” well has run dry.

Not only did quantum entanglement blow my mind because… science, I also relate it to my life, in a very un-sciencey way. I’m not claiming anything to the extreme that they were describing (a woman can actually FEEL other people’s pain), but you know what I mean. There are those people that will always tug at your heartstrings, that you will always feel something for, no matter how many years it’s been. True, I don’t feel his pain or his drunkenness, but when I see him my heart is drawn to his. Just because. That’s how love and heartbreak is.

Now for the silver lining.

Last night I made soup. I had a handsome fella over for dinner. We drank wine and caught up on the month where we hadn’t seen each other. We will call this character K, because I am not creative. What I adore about this man is that we’re actually on the same page. We enjoy each other’s company. We like to go on adventures together. Sometimes we hold hands, most times we don’t. And we don’t have a desire to fall in love. Not with each other, and probably not with other people, at least not right now. He likes me, I like him. If he stopped liking me, I’d stop liking him. It’s a bizarre, modern, “romantic” entanglement, and it suits my life perfectly.

In my experience, being on the same page RARELY happens. They make terrible movies about it. One person always thinks they can play the friends-with-benefits game, and then the predictable “fall in love” scenario happens and the happily-ever-after credits roll.

That’s great. Falling in love is wonderful. But maybe you really can have a partner where it all works out and stays casual. It’s the first time in my adult life where an ongoing “booty call” (for lack of a better word) is sustainable.

As I’ve told him, I don’t have time to date anyone seriously. My focus is my job, my dog, and my family. He said that I’m what every man wants. This isn’t true, as I know many men who thrive off of being in a relationship. Whether or not they admit to it, being alone just isn’t in the cards for them. A lot of people get great joy out of being someone’s partner, and to them I say, “congratulations.” They go from one relationship to another, because it’s what gives their life that extra spark. Being an adult, and finding a K, has really hit home the fact that I really like being single.

I am consistently reminded by society that this will only lead to loneliness and lots of cats, but I call bullshit on that. One of my darling friends in Texas sent me a text yesterday lamenting the pains of dating. How it feels like a competition, and she just wants to date herself, but the world frowns upon such things. Whether or not we know how to classify it, we have that nagging feeling like we are failing if we aren’t happily settled down. I know the feeling. I know what it feels like to get the, “so… who are you dating?” question from family and friends. They have a tone of pity in their voice, like they should be tiptoeing around my singledom at the ancient age of 28. My method of self care doesn’t involve finding the love of my life, deal with it.

As a part of my year of Flawless, I’m really working on reclaiming the idea that being alone can be just as respected and joyful as being in a relationship. To beat down the beast that hovers around me, reminding me I should be working to find my lobster. To remind society that women can be sexual beings and not be classified as sluts. And if you ARE pointing a finger and doubting or judging my choices… fuck you? I’m a grown woman, I can do whatever I want.

So yeah. I have a casual relationship with a tragically handsome bearded man. We make time for it when we can, and don’t have expectations. We enjoy each other’s company, and that’s all it needs to be. He feels it, I feel it… We’re entangled in a loose, casual, perfect way.

The Trouble with a Dating Blog: Volume 1

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I say volume one because surely there will be other things addressed on this issue, but this is the first pickle I find myself in.

The question I always turn over is when/whether to tell a guy I’m seeing/writing about that BTW I’m writing about him. I am terrible at keeping secrets so I’ve defaulted to telling a few of the guys after a date or two, mostly just because I’m a nervous talker I guess and so it ends up blurted out. Also I’m just big on getting things out in the open and this project isn’t something I’m particularly shy about. It’s splashed pretty publicly around all of my social media, so if a guy did even the smallest amount of digging they could find it easily.

That being the case, it’s still weird. Once a guy does know about its existence, I’m left feeling a little strange writing about him because I’m not sure if it’s a violation of his privacy or if it’ll ensure that there are no further dates or hell maybe he’s just enough of a narcissist where being written about is his end goal.

Remember how I mentioned I tend to overthink things? That paragraph just gives a peek into what my brain spins over before/during/after writing a post.

I’ve had several conversations with people where they don’t think I should ever tell a guy I’m seeing about the blog. That’s great until of course one of our mutual friends tells the dude about it before I get the chance to and/or they add me on Facebook and therefore are privy to all the neurotic thoughts that have been poured onto these pages. And that space between a rock and a hard place is exactly where I’m at right now.

I’ve been sitting on a blog post for a day or two but I’m nervous to post it. It says nothing negative about this man because I could not think of one negative thing about him if you paid me a million dollars. Hell, he wore socks and sandals on our date and still I can’t think of a negative thing about him because dammit he managed to make socks and sandals sexy. But see that’s actually the issue. Workaholics white dudes The conundrum I’m totally inventing here and probably isn’t really even a conundrum is that I want a third date with this guy, and raving about him publicly after only two dates is a scary thing to do (even though that’s basically what I did in that last paragraph). Dating blogs are weird, and writing about my thoughts/feelings about other people is still something I’m learning how to navigate through.

*20 minutes later after re-reading this post, OH WELL HERE IS THE POST I’VE BEEN NERVOUS ABOUT*

Holiday Dating is Annoying

Dating during the holidays is absolutely the worst. And no, not because of all the holiday expectations or the threat of having to buy someone a gift or any of the scary emotional stuff, but really I mean like practically: dating during the holidays is really hard. Thanksgiving, holiday parties, out of town friends coming home, more holiday parties, family events, errands, blegh so much of your time this season really just isn’t yours. Dating was slow for me over the last month, but I did squeeze one in before the madness really picked up.

In late November/early December, I started talking to this really handsome bearded man via Tinder. As it turned out, one of my favorite friends is also a friend of his, so I got to find out the dirt pretty early. And by dirt, I mean that my friend told me he is the NICEST guy and that if the conversation stalled during our date I should just bring up Harry Potter and then she sent me an article to read about how to date a Hufflepuff. I was totally prepped and ready for our first date and while yes Harry Potter did come up, it wasn’t because the conversation stalled. And my friend was completely right, he is the NICEST guy.

We’re going to call him Neville despite that he’s a Gryffindor because Neville’s my favorite and there aren’t many prominent Hufflepuff characters in the books (who don’t die or anything). Plus he’s the hottest character anyway so here we are. Well, second hottest – I like Sirius’ brand of disheveled. Sidenote: I promise this post isn’t going to be completely about Harry Potter, sorry if I’m freaking you all out. nev Anyway so after the our first date in early, December holiday hell kicked in and MAN was it impossible to get anything scheduled. That being said though, I was so impressed by Neville during that time. I feel like when things get busy, most people kinda tap out and fade away. Not him though, he continued to text casually which let me know he hadn’t forgotten about me. As someone who was very, very recently ghosted I can’t even begin to tell you how appreciated that was. It just made me feel like hey, he’s still there and life is busy this time of year but I shouldn’t write him off.

New Years Day rolled around and we fought through hangovers to have our second date – almost a full month after our first. One thing I like about Neville is that he’s just so delightfully adorable. Like when we got in his car, he was listening to Harry Potter on tape. And that he was a walking PNW stereotype, wearing flannel and wool socks and Birkenstocks. SOCKS AND SANDALS ON A SECOND DATE my eyes couldn’t believe it. And then after he dropped me off, he sent me easily one of the best post-date texts I’ve ever received. Handsome, kind, and a smidge nerdy? Yes please.

The first few dates with all the flirtation are so fun. Neville is an interesting guy and I’m looking forward to knowing him more. That’s something I want from this year of dating, more conversations and knowing people better.

Now comes the truly awkward aspect of this all: here I am writing about this guy on our dating blog and guess what? We’re friends on Facebook and therefore he knows about this blog’s existence. So hi Neville – let’s see if after reading this you still wanna have that next date you’d mentioned interest in…

Hey the Year’s Over! Time to Reflect or Something!

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I love lists. I love breaking things down to simple points. I love soundbites and easily digestible nuggets. I love nostalgia. I love telling old stories. So basically that means I should love this time of year because year end reflection pieces are everywhere and it’s the societal expectation to have gained some sort of insight about yourself over the last 365 days. So while I should love this time of year, I don’t exactly. I tend to evaluate my years on my birthday because I’m a Leo and therefore a little narcissistic and my birthday is my favorite holiday. For the last few years I’ve sat by myself on August 17th and made a list of what I wanted to accomplish. This year my goals included opening a savings account, actually put money in that savings account, and to start a new job. Thus far, I’ve only tacked one of those things off my list since August 17th but HEY, I’ve got time. It’s normal for 27 year olds not to have a savings account, right? Whoops!

But, back to New Years and lists. It’s probably because of the red wine I’ve consumed tonight (only two glasses!) but I actually DO want to talk about some of the things I’ve learned/accomplished/grown out of when it comes to dating so here we go.

Google a movie before you take a date to see the movie

Earlier this year I went out a few times with a really nice, really kind, really rich guy. The rich guy was nice and kind, but we just didn’t click. No big blow up story for you, but I learned something very important from him. On our 3rd date, he took me to a movie and neither of us did literally any research into it – all we knew was that it was supposedly a modern romantic comedy which I was all about obviously. Turns out, he took me to see Obvious Child. For all of you not familiar, it’s a great movie (like probably the best one I saw all year not including when I rewatched Twister [god I love that movie])! But it’s a movie about a girl who gets pregnant from a one night stand and then has an abortion, all while falling for the aforementioned one night stand. Uh. DO YOU KNOW HOW AWKWARD IT IS TO BE SITTING NEXT TO A GUY YOU’VE JUST FRENCHED WITH OUTSIDE THE THEATER AND THEN BE WATCHING A MOVIE ABOUT ACCIDENTALLY GETTING KNOCKED UP? Abortion isn’t typically a 3rd date conversation, and yet there we were, walking back to his car on a warm spring night talking about abortion. It was weird and dating is weird and please do research on whatever movie you take a date to.

Don’t date from out of state

Hey it rhymes! I’ve pursued what feels like a million long distance relationships, and for some people they work. I’m talking to you, twitter friend from SF. Yours WILL work. For me though, I just need to know better from here on out. Fighting over the phone isn’t something I want to spend another moment of my time doing, despite how enjoyable watching my favorite movie with someone over that phone was. 8 mile radius exclusive, forever and ever.

Figure out the big stuff early

C and I have been very open about our “no babies, no problem” stance. I’ve found with my relationships, I like to get that out of the way pretty early because there’s no use wasting time. If I find a guy I like a whole lot but he wants kids it’s just a flat out deal breaker at this point. To some that might be irrational because apparently people change their mind! However, do I want to be 3 years into a relationship and discover neither of us have changed our minds and now well this is awkward? The answer is a firm no. I had this experience earlier this year, and I know it hurt the hell out of the sweet, sweet guy I was dating. But I think it’s for the better to keep in mind long term plans before engaging in a long term relationship maybe because I’m too rational for my own good.

#RelationshipGoals is really more than a social media joke

Earlier this year, I might have considered posting pictures of myself with a plate of nachos alongside the hashtag #RelationshipGoals because I didn’t have any real relationship goals and I’m still somewhat convinced that my one true love might be found on Qdoba’s menu. That though has changed a bit recently because of two things: My Husband’s Tumor and recognizing and putting words to an emotional adult need for the first time probably ever in my life: the need of a little support.

My Husband’s Tumor is a blog I found last month centered around a woman writing about her husband’s life and unfortunate death from brain cancer, but really it’s actually about their love story. On a day off from work in November, I sat in bed and read the entire thing while of course ugly crying. We’re talking like 400 posts. Nora, the blog’s author, is an incredible writer and the way she writes their love story reminded me how good it could be. I don’t let myself think about love very often because hi it’s terrifying and I tend to do it with the wrong people. But read her blog and remind yourself that heartbreak is real, but maybe so is love. At least Nora and Aaron’s is, that I know for certain.

The other aspect of things I learned about #RelationshipGoals: I actually need a little support from a partner. My life has never been hard. I have a great family and fucking outstanding friends and while yeah I’ve been a perpetual sad girl for basically a decade, it’s probably just because I listen to too much Death Cab for Cutie and it’s all that can be expected from a girl who’s screen name was Konstantine316 (shoutout to everyone who knows that emo as shit reference). But as I’ve gotten a little older and life has gotten a little more stressful and challenging, I realize that while yes I can totally take care of myself because as my trainer said today I’m “tough and stubborn,” sometimes it wouldn’t be terrible for someone to rub the knots out of my shoulders and do all the supportive kind caring things that I hear boyfriends are supposed to do. This is a very long segment and I’m talking about my feelings now so I’m not going to wrap this up with a nice concluding sentence and let’s just move on.

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Stop dating flakes!

I hate to admit this, but the Joker ghosted me AGAIN. I still have his hoodie and a movie, but I’m just taking those for keeps since him ignoring text messages after promising not to disappear again is the most embarrassing thing to admit here. I do this with men – give them chance after chance to do better. I’m forgiving to a fault, I know. Sometimes it does work out, but most of the time it doesn’t. Maybe this is more like one of those terrible New Year’s resolutions we talk about this time of year, but I really need to knock it off. Good people do bad things, but that doesn’t mean I need to keep forgiving them and give them a 3rd or 4th chance. Grow up already, me.

It’s my fault too

I know I’m not perfect. My former best friend said something once that has always stuck with me: “everything negative they’ve thought about me, I’ve thought first.” Wait, maybe that was Lena Dunham… either way I think it’s important to say point blank that I know I’m not perfect when it comes to dating or ya know life in general. I am incredibly selfish and I like my routines and habits more than I like most people. I don’t like sharing food. I think I’m more rational than most other people, which leads me to thinking I’m right most of the time. On the other hand, I overthink absolutely everything which can result in coming completely undone over something tiny and insignificant. I’m not great at talking about my feelings and so I tend to bury things and run at the first sign of conflict because hey it’s easier to be alone. And that’s just some of the bullshit men who date me have to deal with! I think one of my favorite things from the year is that I really feel like I know myself, including my shortcomings. Maybe I’m delusional for thinking that makes me a more stable person, but it makes me feel more stable so screw you if you think I’m wrong. Here we go again with the stubbornness…

I’ve rambled too much in this post, but here we are at the end of 2014. I’m probably going to listen to this song a million times while getting ready for my evening of Karaoke because drunkenly singing along to “Criminal” by Fiona Apple is the best way I could imagine ringing in the new year. Cheers jerks, be safe and remember: don’t date us.

I share my bed with a pile of clean laundry and some unpaid bills.

Guest Posts!

Guest Post: Jill

I sort of buried the lead there. I’m actually not that sure I’m using that phrase correctly. But I’m going to assume I’m right without doing any research and prepare to defend my position haughtily and without restraint because that’s the American way.

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I have not been in a relationship since I accidentally fell in love with a boy called Adam just over 10 years ago. You read that right, I was 17. Most people would say to that, “High school doesn’t count.” Those people have probably had numerous relationships since high school and it is their prerogative to reframe their memories however they see fit. They can also s my d because for me, it counts. Since then I’ve had a series of non-emotional sexual relationships, or non-sexual emotional relationships. This is one of those confusing “two halves don’t make a whole” scenarios. Like it’s math, but it doesn’t add up. Getting an A in Algebra 2 when I was in 9th grade led me to believe I understood basic addition. Thanks a lot, Mr. Gruen.

The other problem with Adam is that he was too great. I hate saying that because we’re still friends, he might read this, and he has never suffered from low self-esteem. But seriously, when you’re a teenager and you get to date the best looking, coolest, most talented guy in school – it kind of ruins you. Like I’m not even interested if we aren’t chatting over AIM making plans to go to the drive-in or something. But I digress.

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Recently, I endeavored to fucking go for it and be someone’s girlfriend. My reasoning was 3-fold: I liked him. I wanted a boyfriend. He wanted to lock it down. I was swept up in his eagerness to be exclusive, because that had literally never happened to me before. The short version of this tale is that it didn’t work out.

It began:

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And then it un-began:

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It is super possible that I’m not in the correct life place or head space to be in a successful relationship. A really honest version of my dating profile might say “Fat-ish, but good shaped. Extremely vain – borderline self-obsessed. Has so many best friends and close family members you will never learn all their names. Doesn’t like to do outside-y things, does like to drink expensive alcohol and play games and talk and talk and talk. And sleep. Work schedule is inconsistent. Relatively poor. Will usually have sex with you, but not during the daytime.”

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The truth is, I (as most people are) am deserving of a perfectly complimentary other half. I also know that I am, and always have been, perfectly happy on my own. Plus interacting with humans on an emotional level is dangerous, confusing, and terrifying. I hear it can also be exciting, magical and rewarding. Future Jill will have to let me know if that’s true. We can’t all have dat fairy-tale lyfe, but dreams are things.

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Fool Me Twice

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Ready for a dating update? Shocker alert- The Joker made a reappearance. You see, glaring silence just isn’t acceptable. So I did what you should never ever do and reached out about 2 weeks ago, and casual conversation began again and then just as quickly as it started, it stopped again. Without warning. After I revealed some very exciting life news, he legit just didn’t respond. In this post, you’re probably going to learn a few things about me – the first being that literally the worst thing someone can do to me is ignore me. Like really, if you’re brainstorming a list of “Ways to Hurt L” just don’t pay attention to me. It’s really that simple. I’m THAT much of an attention-whore.

After his lack of response to my aforementioned exciting life news, I was actually done. I wasn’t going to send a “hey see I can be funny and charming and friendly even when you’re an asshole and obviously read my text BECAUSE WHOA YOU HAVE READ RECEIPTS TURNED ON but haven’t responded in 4 days” follow up text. And guess what, I didn’t. I didn’t reach out and I was too hurt by his silence to even stalk his social media accounts just to make sure he hadn’t died. Update – he didn’t die, and I know this because he sent me a text the day after Thanksgiving. The text was a bullshit opener that I should have ignored considering he hadn’t spoken to me in 7 days, but guess what! I can’t ignore people – it’s just not good manners. Like c’mon, the simplest thing in the world is to respond to a text message.

So on Black Friday, The Joker and I started talking again. About mindless small-talky things but we were talking. And we kept talking through Sunday when he came over to my apartment with champagne and orange juice and a lightbulb to fix the one that had burnt out in my closet 28 days earlier. We spent the afternoon rearranging my apartment to accommodate the 6 foot tall faux Christmas tree my mother felt it necessary I own. He then offered up great ornament arrangement advice (No, I did not put all my disco ball ornaments on the same branch, but I appreciated the feedback). We watched the LCD Soundsystem documentary and did some canoodling and basically it was the perfect Sunday. He left to go watch a local sports team win but still lose (soccer is confusing), and I spent the rest of the day texting my girlfriends about my poor decision making habits because I did what everyone tells you not to do – I gave the guy a second shot. I have a long history of doing this and weird, it literally has never worked even one singular time.

Girls: Don’t do what I did. Don’t let a dude who was an asshole to you in the very recent past into your apartment slash life just because he’s nice to you for 4 days in a row. That’s just dumb, and we should all know better. And yet, here I am telling you another story about crashing and burning with the same guy.

Once the game was over, he invited me to his apartment to watch a movie I hadn’t seen before (which is most movies because hi if it’s not a romcom or Jurassic Park I probably haven’t seen it). We then proceeded to watch 2 hours of music videos by the likes of Mariah Carey and Boys II Men and Har Mar Superstar and he sloppily sung along into my ear on the couch. It was adorable, and guys doesn’t this story make it sound like everything was going great! Well it was, until he started talking about the other girl he’s seeing and went on and on about her. By “on and on” I mean it probably only lasted about 30 seconds before his face dropped and he realized he was talking about being with another girl while I was literally still in his bed.

Mom – if you’re reading this, please stop reading this dating blog forever and ever.

Here’s the thing: I don’t care that he’s dating someone else. It’s fine that he’s seeing other people because uh I’m a rational human and exclusivity is a conversation between two people and shouldn’t ever be assumed especially considering I’ve only known this dude existed for the last 30 days. I don’t care that he’s seeing someone else, what I care about is what happened next. He basically shut down. Actually not basically, he totally shut down. He knew he’d just said something shitty and had hurt my feelings, and instead of reacting and attempting to salvage the situation, he shuttered himself. We could have had a conversation about it like adult people but nope, he just stopped talking. I did what I always do and tried to reassure him that it was fine because that’s what I wanted to happen. I wanted him to pull me in and kiss me and for us to just scoot over that snafu and talk about it over drinks a day or two later. But nope, he laid in bed with his hands covering his face and didn’t say another word as I collected my belongings in the dark. He didn’t make a single move to stop me – and THAT my friends is what really hurt. I walked the 2 blocks back to my apartment at 1:30 in the morning feeling just really really shitty about myself.

As I’m writing this, I realize that I probably sound like a really needy female. Based on my perceptions only and not founded on any particular research, when women “complain” about dating or men or being treated poorly, it’s considered silly or trivial. Talking about my feelings is something the men I’ve dated have conditioned me not to do because I tend to date emotionally stunted withholders. Hi all my exes reading this, sorry if I just told you something you didn’t know about yourself! I don’t want to be that girl who talks about her issues/feels/hurts and be vulnerable, I want to be the girl who can just move on with it and get over it and hey let’s make a joke about this in 2 weeks. These days, I’m trying to be more of both those girls because I think that’s a whole hell of a lot more balanced. I will poke fun at myself when I’m being a neurotic emotional mess, but I also really want to train myself that it’s okay NOT to poke fun at myself when I’m feeling defeated and sad and disappointed.

So right now I don’t feel like being funny. Dating isn’t funny when actual feelings are involved and those actual feelings are hurt. The reason people always advise you not to give someone a second shot is because of situations like these. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt because he made me laugh and has great taste in music and is so so handsome.  Frankly even now while I throw myself a pity-party I still want to give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s a self proclaimed mess. As the daughter of a former housecleaner, I want to clean up messes. It’s basically in my DNA I think. That’s how DNA works I’m pretty sure.

This morning after I spent some additional time wallowing and listening to sad-girl music, he texted to apologize for drinking too much and saying something that hurt my feelings. So here I sit, wanting to give this handsome funny mess of a man more of my interest because another thing you should know about me: I don’t really know when to quit. Despite what I like to tell myself.

First Dates And What You Probably Shouldn’t Do

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In case you weren’t aware, C and I hate dating. Following the rejection I received from The Joker I was even less excited to date than I was before, which is pretty hard to top. Because many people have asked, no – I still haven’t heard from him. I’m usually right about most things in life except when it comes to my own personal life, but in this case I was really really right. My friend MF told me I should probably wait a week before writing about my dates, but that’s just not possible considering how impatient I am. Whoops! But enough about The Joker, let’s move the eff on.

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I temporarily disabled Tinder because I’m impulsive like that so I’ve been a smidge more active on other dating apps/websites. Do any of you realize how ANNOYING Zoosk is? Expect a full post about that down the road, don’t worry. My point is: if you’re single and only using Tinder, you should really branch out. The last few weeks I’ve been using Hinge – which is weirdly sort of like a combo of Tinder and LinkedIn and Facebook? You’re given a daily queue of potential matches and those matches are selected for you because you have friends in common with them. It makes for simple as pie Facebook stalking and provides for easy small talk like “how do you know so-and-so” and then you get to talk about the one time you got stupid drunk in a college dorm room with that aforementioned so-and-so. Yay small talk!

Elaine

Oh Captain, My Captain and I have a few friends in common so we met for drinks at Revolver – a bar with awesome lighting that spins great vinyl and charges too much for whiskey. That though didn’t stop me from drinking way too much of it. Yes, I got WAY too drunk on a first date. That’s like the cardinal sin of dating! You are never supposed to get as drunk as I was! The thing is I always forget that my signature drink order (cheap beer and good whiskey) actually is two drinks and NOT one drink. That’s like the simplest math ever, and still I didn’t realize that my three drink orders tallied up an actual alcohol count of SIX drinks. Guys, SIX DRINKS.  To give a great example of my behavior: I was so drunk that when we went to get dinner, I decided abruptly that I was too drunk to be in public and basically ran out the door! That is so totally not encouraged. I woke up the next morning, and after checking my text messages, I guess my drunkeness wasn’t a deal breaker? Maybe he likes girls that get sloppy drunk on first dates?

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Oh Captain, My Captain works in the shipping industry. He is bearded and stout and just generally handsome. He looks like he could chop wood and then go inside and cuddle a kitten. He can tell great stories and went on and on about how much he hates Steve Jobs which was kind of endearing. He’s the kind of guy who’s just a damn great first date – good at talking about himself, good at asking questions, confident, and apparently knows the importance of eye contact. I felt like I was sitting across from Hugh Jackman. Is that weird? Maybe I’m still drunk?

LC Cute Guy Drunk

Me, on the other hand, I’ve been a MUCH better first date than I was the other night. I talked about how one of the mutual friends we have in common is actually someone I used to date, THAT IS NOT SOMETHING YOU SHOULD DO ON A FIRST DATE. I rambled on and on about my dad on several occasions, which I don’t think is very encouraged. I talked about how one of the karaoke songs I love to do is “You Oughta Know” by Alanis Morisette because, and I quote, “I think it makes the balls of every guy in the room shrivel back into their bodies.” Why would any human on a date say that? Why? Oh and let’s not forget how I left the restaurant in the middle of our meal because I was too drunk, only to go BACK IN and kiss him? Did I mention that I definitely did that? Or at least I vaguely remember doing that, it’s all a little hazy. I make terrible decisions.

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I said and did many many stupid things on this first date, and yet maybe he finds bumbling drunk idiots endearing? Oh Captain, My Captain and I will go out again and I solemnly swear to drink less on our second date. Most likely. Maybe.

Week 5 Recap: ExSex and Work Love (Not as Exciting as it Sounds)

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We’ve officially been writing for over a month, and can I be a total dork and just say thank you to everyone who’s been reading? C and I are having a lot of fun, and it’s weird but I’ve already learned and confirmed some things about what I’m looking for in just this short amount of time.

I’ve learned from sometimes I just don’t care. This week I sucked! I ignored messages from guys, stopped swiping right, and just plain didn’t feel like talking. I ate pizza and didn’t go to the gym, and I regret nothing. C and I set out here vowing commitment to one first date a week, but come on, commitment is my biggest fear. Other than sharks. But, as I said, I. Regret. Nothing. Do I wish I would have had the opportunity to flirt with a stranger? Of course. But sometimes cheese is just as enjoyable (and let’s be real, sometimes a lot more enjoyable).

Girls eat

I’ve learned that not all first dates will end by making plans for a second. In the past almost all my dates have resulted in a second or third or 10th date. This past month though the majority haven’t and side hugs happen. A first date I went on recently was with a total babe. Homeboy had a mun! Unfortunately though it didn’t go as I’d dreamed… AKA we didn’t end the night by making out in Ballard and I didn’t have the opportunity to ask what kind of conditioner he uses, which is all I really want from a date. The making out, not the conditioner advice. So I guess he was the MUN that got away. GET IT?! You see I say things like that and sing along to Maroon 5 sometimes, so that’s probably why I’m not cool enough to date someone with a mun who lives in Ballard.

Girls Maroon 5

I’ve learned that sometimes I’ll backslide with an ex and everyone will be okay. Since starting this blog, I “rekindled” things for a night with a guy I dated a while back. You can read between the lines there because someday my mom or god forbid my dad might read this blog and I’m not ready to come out and say it. It won’t be happening again, but I was relieved that when he left I didn’t feel guilty and he didn’t feel hurt. It was mutually beneficial and of course mutually enjoyable, so at least there’s that.

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Lastly, I’ve learned (confirmed) that I’m pretty great at reading people. The last few weeks that I was seeing the DILF, while I enjoyed getting to know him, I could tell it wasn’t really going to go anywhere. From the beginning, I was aware he wasn’t in a place to really be dating. I mean, his separation from his wife is still pretty fresh (this sentence shows that I’m dating real adult men and that is TERRIFYING) and he has some baggage. Which might be an understatement. But what was different about this situation is he wasn’t at all interested in sharing his baggage. That made it impossible to really know him, and thus impossible to really date him. We ended our tryst very amicably last week and I really do feel like we’ll remain friends. Sorry to disappoint everyone hoping for future DILF stories, but stay tuned since I like the idea of dating a guy who’s already had someone else push out their offspring.

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Remember how I said I was bad at dating? Yeah… that’s still a thing.

In my defense, I moved into a new house, went out of town, and then launched a new product at work, so my time for dating was in the negative. I realize those all sound like excuses, and they absolutely are. I don’t like dating, remember? Instead of reiterating how much I dislike the first date/meeting randos from the internet, I will talk about the SUPER healthy relationship I have with my job. Ew?

Case in point: I was chatting with a somewhat cute (you can never tell) fella on OKC. Just your typical back and forth banter where you try to convey a wink/eyelash flutter/whatever via words. It was going alright. True, I forgot to reply to his message for a few days because I forgot he existed, but I think that’s a case for a lot of ladies who are inundated with “I like you”, “let’s meet”, “you’re hot” messages. Honestly guys, let’s work on creativity, shall we?

I DIGRESS.

Back to the point, he basically gave up on me because in his words, “you seem too busy for me, have a nice day.” Straight and to the point, I’ll give him that. And yes, this is a problem of mine. Thank you for pointing that out, random OKC dude. A darling friend of mine in Texas once told me that if I ever want to be happy with a boy, I’ll have to actually make the relationship a priority. I’ve never been one to put the fella first. Not then, and not now. I guess that’s why the few good ones I did have finally burnt out after years of falling below my family, friends, dog, job, etc.

Meh? Too bad? Yeah, I probably work too much. But I love my job, and if I’d rather work than go on a first date… well, that says something. Perhaps the entirety of my 20s is meant to be a time where I put myself first, and worry about finding a partner second (or third, or tenth…) I have always chalked it up to selfishness, but fuck that. It’s not selfish to put yourself first, especially if you’re happy where you are in life, partnered or alone. God damn, this “dating” blog just turned into more of a “screw dating, I’m going to do whatever I want, whenever I want.”

Wasn’t I supposed to learn something in this process? You can’t teach a stubborn gal new tricks… or something.