Date #1: The Christmas Caroler

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At least Britney’s authentic with her disinterest.

A note: It’s been a really long time since I’ve updated this and I’m going to assume you’ve all gone on with your lives, as have I. Point in case: I’m now coming to you from Los Angeles, exploring the (significantly lessened) lumberjack crew down in these here parts. If you’ve given up on me, it’s cool. It’s not you, it’s me. Some lucky reader is going to be so happy to have this blog in her life, it’s just not you. For those who will continue to indulge my navel-gazing examinations of why dating fucking sucks, onward!

Pertinent stats: 6’3″. Which is really probably enough said, but okay, let’s see. 33. I’m bored and a little lonely and uh, sexually frustrated, so it’s really not taking much for me to say yes to dates these days. The nickname will be explained in due time but not in this post so bear with me. He manages a Baskin-Robbins, which may have everything to do with why I said yes to seeing him–I can be real naughty for free Jamoca Almond Fudge.

Beardliness: Nein! Nein bearden. (Definitely accurate German.) But he is my favorite height, so probably that’s a solid foundation for love. Continue reading

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Date #1: Bathroom Selfie

Yes, I have a crush on Dave Grohl. Yes, I’ve had a crush on Dave Grohl since I was fifteen. No, I’m not proud of this fact but you know what? Fuck you.

Pertinent stats: This guy went to the same college as me, had the same major as me (graduated one year behind) before he switched to psychological anthropology.  Which sounds fancy and I’m pretty sure that has something to do with the tv show Bones and David Boreanaz?  So yes, fuckable.  He’s my age, 6’0″, works at Cal (heyyy), and is recording an album with his band the week that we’re attempting to get together.  Into all of these things, all of them.

His name stems from the fact that one of his profile pictures features a– you guessed it! my references are so oblique– bathroom selfie.  The odd part of this particular bathroom selfie is that he’s in a suit.  So, saying to the world, “Yes, I like to put in effort but STILL look like a D.”  I actually have no problem with this particular picture but a few friends have assured me that It Is a Problem.

Yeah, well, the only other real romance in my life is my unhealthy crush going on James Gandolfini (are you guys aware that The Sopranos is a really good show?  Too bad it never caught any mainstream traction) so I’ll look the other way on this particular faux pas.

Beardliness:  beard iconbeard iconbeard iconbeard icon
Fuck me, now that’s what I call a beard.  Continue reading

Date #1: The Boyfriend Wannabe

Do I like him?

Update: I’ve stopped things with the Doubtful Professor, because, at some point, I realized that emotional honesty was more important to me than (really fantastic delicious) sex. Womp, womp, I’m an adult.

Pertinent stats: I’m like thisclose to giving up on the whole online dating shebang– not because I’ve finally become so cynical that I have resigned myself to itchy Cat Ladydom (itchy due to allergies, I’m not inherently itchy as a person) but because the focus in my life lately has been on other things.  However, my digital yente (OkCupid bots) have decided that I cannot live until I check out this dude’s profile and so I do– and I’m pleasantly surprised.  28, 6’1″, good job, varying list of hobbies that are not just beer drinking and bro-ing out hard on the weekends (not that there’s anything wrong with that– fuck it, there’s lots of things wrong with that. I guess I am that cynical at the moment) and a few funny Bill Murray references.  We get to texting, he seems so…normal and funny that I’m thinking maybe now is not the time to delete all of my online accounts just yet. Have to postpone our date for about a week because he’s working big shows for Dreamforce and Twitter.  Oh la la.

Beardliness: beard iconbeard icon

Blond stubble which does nothing for anyone ever unless your last name is Hemsworth.  Sorry guys but it’s true. Continue reading

Date #1: Hometown Honey

ice cube date kissing bearded menPertinent stats: Spent a good week half-heartedly texting this fellow until it came up spontaneously in conversation that we’re from the same small town.  The bay area is a frighteningly small world!  We went to different high schools so I didn’t know him, but a little Facebook stalking reveals two interesting facts: we have several friends in common and also, his profile lists him as engaged.

I’m.  Not sure.  What to do.  With this information.

I mean.  I really don’t think he’s still engaged.  Because he would’ve mentioned that, right?  (In the most naive sentence ever typed…)  But I fully intend to bring it up as soon as possible.  It also appears that his Facebook hasn’t been updated since 2012 so maybe he’s no longer engaged.  (And maybe he’s no longer engaged because he’s married.  Fuck me.)

Anyway, he’s 5’9”, 28, a scientist at a lab that does some sort of cancer testing (I don’t know, I was a lit major, these words you are saying, they make not the sense for my brain), and I’m definitely going on this first date.

Beardliness: Zero beards.

He has no beards.  Saaaad trombone.  BUT.  It does appear that he could grow one, if so inclined. (Grasping at straws?) Continue reading