f#&% self reflection

I think I came off a little too strong on the last post. I’m not trying bear trap this guy, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t totally smitten by him. Thus, countering all these feelings of insecurity and doubt by trying to keep my options open so I don’t get too attached to something that has the stability of America under the Trump reign. Picture of healthy dating right here.

That’s all to say, this online dating business is really revealing about who you are as a person. And who you think you are as a person.

for example, as of late, I’ve been wondering: am I a gold digger? I never considered myself as one. I grew up in a somewhat privileged home. I’ve always had real Fruit Loops for breakfast (none of the generic brand “Fruity Spins” or whatever). My toilet paper was  minimum four-ply (that stuff was so soft, what the hell). My parents are financially responsible and while they are frugal in practice, they still have a healthy dose of expendable income. What I’m saying is this: I’m not as concerned about trapping myself a breadwinner as say, Julia Roberts’ character in Pretty Woman. I make a decent living and if somehow something unfortunate befalls on me, I think my parents love me enough to help me out financially.

BUT DESPITE ALL THAT, I find myself swiping left on almost all teachers, bartenders, and “entrepreneurs”  with very un-investment worthy photos. This makes me wonder – What does this say about me? Am I just looking out for my future offspring or is that inner, dormant desire to be a hot yoga mom stronger than I think?

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f#&% leagues

Have you ever met someone so out of your league intellectually that you feel the need to STUDY before your date?

That is currently happening right now. I met a guy last Friday who I can only describe as the next heterosexual Alan Turing of the Bitcoin phenomenon. The date was a page turner. I could not stop asking him questions about his life, his job…I even wanted his opinion on my own personal dating life. At the end of the date, I asked him to dinner before I even realized what I was saying. He had captured my mind and my heart dropped down to my sleeve. Tonight is our second date.

Who knows anything about the cryptocurrency field and/or User Interface experience technology? There needs to be Cliffnotes for these types of things so you can sound somewhat intelligent on long dinner dates. Fake it till you make it, right? I’m determined to make it.

f#&% attention whores

Sometimes I can’t tell if I want a boyfriend or if I just want attention.

Currently still dating the Pharmacist. I like him when I’m not with him & I want to end things when we hang out. This can’t be the pathway to happily ever after, right? The real question is how many dates does it take to get to know somebody? I once dated a guy for four years and found out Year 3 that he was a man-child who was unable to articulate his emotions. Then after that discovery, I continued to date him for an additional year because I am apparently very self-destructive.

So here are my questions for the Online Dating Experts out there:

  1. How many dates does it take to get to know someone?
  2. What is the maximum number of dates you can go on and STILL break up over text message AND be considered a decent person?

f#&% vulnerability

This blog has become a blog PURELY about dating. The name of this blog doesn’t EVEN MAKE SENSE ANYMORE. Whatever, there are more important things to talk about right now. Namely, I FEEL SO VULNERABLE.

I went on another date with the Pharmacist. HOLD UP. HEYYYYY.

He asked if I would be willing to re-do another first date since I was so traumatized from his tongue injection. &  I was like “aww, okay” because I am currently emotionally needy enough to gobble up any crumbs of affection. Fast forward to yesterday where we were both nervous as hell. He stuttered. I repeated repeated myself over and over again. It was messy. The conversation…less spectacular. But that’s to be expected, right? Like how much can you possibly say to a stranger before you run out of surface level topics? Or am I suppose to start dragging the skeletons out of my closet on Date 3? SOMEONE TELL ME. DEAR LORD, CLUE ME THE HELL IN.

Online dating seems very ‘high risk, low reward’ to me. One moment you’re Therano’s Elizabeth Holmes – highly valued, crazy desirable, on top of the FREAKING world. Everyone is just BEGGING to be seen with you. Your options are…basically ANYTHING. BUT THEN…some twat reveals that you have cellulite on your thighs and have questionable excuses for not exercising. All of sudden all your suitors are like “BAI!” Then 6 months later, you find yourself firing all your employees and somehow…okay this is where the analogy breaks down. But you get my point. Dating is very unstable. This, in turn, makes me very unstable.

I. am. unstable.

f#&% second dates

first dates suck. but SECOND DATES SUCK MORE.

No, I did not go on a second date with Dr. Catfish (fool me once shame on you, fool me twice…actually, shame on life for always fooling me at least twice).

I went on my first second date with this guy who really seemed wonderful. He was an ambitious pharmacist, clearly intelligent, and had a sort of nerdy but suave charm about him. Our conversations were fun, but more importantly, really interesting – like TED talk interesting. After 2.5 hours – I started to think that maybe online dating had potential, maybe my story could be the story that misleads encourages all the other hopeless girls that these horrific dating apps CAN work if you have impeccable screening skills & aren’t too bad of a catch yourself.

But in the thirty second walk from the restaurant to my parked car, Pharmacist tried to MAKE THE MOVES. In his defense, we DID talk for 2.5 hours & in ManLand, two plus hours of talking is probably the equivalent of watching a stripper dance around in a modest pantsuit. Slight tease with a side of blue balls? So I guess I can understand how he might have felt mentally undressed/animalistic. But, as I tried to say goodnight and do my usual Sidehug-4-Strangers, he just WENT IN for the make out. IN PUBLIC. Thank goodness it was 10pm where anyone with any sense of prudency was probably at home saying their nightly prayers. BUT SHEESH. I was not at all ready for the kiss. Not ready mentally. emotionally. physically. (I’m STILL doing Invisalign BY THE WAY, I STILL have attachments on my teeth)

I felt weirdly violated. Is your tongue in my mouth because my entrée was $27.00? Or am I overthinking this with a weird “if you pay for me, I owe you” Asian philosophy?

I don’t know. REGARDLESS – any hot memories I had of Pharmacy Boy telling me to eat more bananas because my heart medication flushes out potassium – were drowned out by this unwelcomed tongue fencing.

The worst part about it all – is that this poor boy probably has no idea how I feel about any of this. I felt so awkward about the whole thing that I ended up giving him one last peck because I wasn’t quite sure if we were done kissing. I ended any potential of a relationship the day after with a super generic break up text and he just replied with “thanks for telling me” that had a bit of a  “f#&% you” twang at the end. Or am I projecting?

Point being – DO NOT kiss me if you do not know my FIRST MIDDLE AND LAST NAME AND/OR if I do not know YOUR last name. I guess what I am saying is that I am a total prude & physical affection scares me.

At the same time, writing this uncharacteristically long blog post because I am hoping Pharmacy Boy will somehow find this blog, read it, and realize that I actually had a wonderful time with him but the relationship got too fast too furious. tokyo drift. I hope he continues to take girls to nice restaurants & open up to them about how he used to eat cheese with apples but now he eats cheese with carrots. So weird, but also, so adorable. But seriously dude, lay off the second date smooches.