Silence

Hi from my sickbed.

After arriving at my office early this morning, my co-workers told me to leave immediately. They claimed I looked like I was either hungover, half dead, or both. Truth is, these days, I don’t have enough “fun” to be hungover anymore.

So here I lay ill. And for the first time in months, I’ve actually had time to think about things other than my job or networking or being funny or being adept in social situations (i.e. not drooling on my own shirt when I’m feeling relaxed in public places).

You may wonder what I’m thinking about. You may not. But either way, I’m going to tell you.

All I can think about is dating and the disappointments that come with it.

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Follow Your Energy

I had a really important lunch today. Not because it was business- or networking-related, but because it was with an old friend who managed to screw my head on a bit straighter for me.

Since you last heard from me, I was in a sad place. I’m still in a sad place sometimes. While I don’t always make it publicly known, I am still hurting from the events of a few weeks ago. I am also in a consistent battle with my depression and anxiety disorders, which make my healing process that much more difficult.

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I’ll Show You Mine If You Show Me Yours

While sifting through old posts, I realized I haven’t written any text on here in quite some time. I want to tell you why.

In May, I met someone amazing. I felt so lucky to start seeing a guy that treated me like an equal. He did thoughtful things for me and shared so many of my interests. I suppose I didn’t feel the need to write on here because I was happy. I had never dated someone that made me feel like I was special.

And then he broke my heart. He just wants to be friends.

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Sealing The Deal

A few days ago I was talking to a co-worker about relationships. He asked me if I was interested in being in one and I told him that at the moment, I was content in my singledom and too busy to commit to anything.

I take that answer back.

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Is This It?

I’ve read plenty of “inspirational” quotes telling me things like, “If it’s not okay it’s not the end” and “There’s no such thing as a true ending” and “Everything must come to an end sometime.” A lot of these sayings contradict each other but that doesn’t stop girlie girls from putting the words on pretty a background and posting them to their Instagrams.

Here’s my problem: I hate endings. I don’t know how to handle them. I very rarely even say goodbye to anyone. I always end the dinner or the drinks or the party by saying something like, “See you next week.” I never simply say, “Goodbye.”

I can’t handle the permanence of The End.

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The Friendship Problem

Finding friends is like dating, except harder. And more necessary.

I had no idea how lucky I was to have people living in the same house as me in college. Living with the girls below was like having constant entertainment and companionship. What I’d give to go back to that big, crazy house…

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When I moved to LA last July, I only had a handful of friends out here. Like any naive college kid with a hefty number of people in her phone’s contact list, I assumed I’d easily pick up more friends as soon as I arrived in my new(ish) city. Having spent three summers out here prior to making the permanent move, I was confident in my ability to find fun people to spend time with in a totally unromantic, strictly platonic way. I thought it’d be easy to make a whole bunch of friends who I could hang out with whenever I wanted, just like when I was in college.

I was wrong.

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The Plight Of The Blogger

Last night I hung out with a bunch of Penn alums. When the topic of this blog came up, they posed a question: Do guys I go out with know that I write about this stuff? And does it affect their opinions of me?

In a quick, point-blank answer, YES.

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1 to america

Very, considering my first internet quasi-relationship ended last night.

Girl Seeking Boy

One of the weirdest things about online dating is the etiquette  As in, there really isn’t any. Unlike calling, there is no particular time of day that you can’t message someone. There isn’t a way to judge character beyond a (generally) poorly worded paragraph. The only good thing about the lack of civility online is that there is zero chance of me spilling red wine on a white table cloth or being called out for texting one of my friends when a guy is trying to look me in the eyes. I’m awkward, ok?

As it turns out, however, there is a way to make people uncomfortable even from the anonymity of my keyboard. One night I decided to take matters into my own hands when it came to my Ok Cupid inbox. I was receiving plenty of messages. It’s just that they were from teenagers and potential sex offenders (perhaps these two things are not mutually exclusive). But why were there no good guys coming for me? I know I’m somewhat worthy and interesting. At the very least, I have an Ivy League degree and don’t live with my mom. So that means there have to be men who can level with me on this site, right? 

And that’s how I got to searching. I went through dozens of profiles of men who fit my filtered criteria: over 5’10, college educated, and single. That’s literally all I had asked for. Pleasantly surprised, I found a few seemingly cool guys. Sadly, they did not find my initial messages charming. 

First I tried to keep it simple: 

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Encouraged by how daring I was being by reaching out first (so against the stream!) I decided to get a little more detailed in my initial interactions.

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Refer to their interests, right? Wrong. I never received as much as a “haha” back from these guys. And I sent a lot of these messages. Only a few were returned.

I was unfazed. These guys were just afraid of a progressive woman like myself. Actually, I was a little fazed. I ended up reading He’s Just Not That Into You (it was actually pretty insightful) and considered becoming a fearless stripper a la Diablo Cody. Then I came back down to Earth and sent another message. 

This time around, I came across the profile of a guy I recognized. He was somewhat of a celebrity at his university for the funny YouTube videos he made. My roommate told me I’d dig his humor so I’d seen a few. Before any of this Ok Cupid stuff happened, I’d actually reached out to him via Facebook message to see if he ever wanted to collaborate on something. He said sure, but I never heard from him again, save for his occasional liking of my status and following of this here blog (hey bro, I promise I won’t reveal your identity). But finding his Ok Cupid profile was my chance to reach out again. Of course, I did it in the worst way possible. By writing this:

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No reply. I even contacted him to see if he’d be ok with me writing about him in this post. Still no reply. 

So I suppose my main question is this: are these dudes afraid of a girl who reaches out first? Doubtful, since my many male friends seem to like when a girl (or guy) takes initiative. I should point out that a very large number of my friends are gay males.

Do they think I’m weird? Probably. Because I am. But isn’t that kind of endearing in a Hermione Granger kinda way?

Do they think I’m ugly? I guess, since this whole online gig is all about looks. You simply don’t ignore a very attractive person’s message.

All I can gather is they’re just not that into me. The only problem here is, they don’t know me. So how could they be so sure? I know I’m perfect so they should just assume the same. (This, of course, is a lie.)

Herein lies the conundrum, however: I ignore plenty of people when they reach out to me. Mainly because they’re 1) too old, 2) too young, 3) too creepy, or 4) too unattractive (sad but true). These guys must be thinking the same things about me. I like to think the men who ignore me are missing out on something great. But maybe I’m doing the same by ignoring some of these guys who have taken the time to reach out.

Perhaps a new experiment needs to take place. One where I respond to everyone and see where it gets me.

Or maybe I’ll act like an ostrich and just dig a hole in the ground, stick my head in it, and vow never to see the dating world again.

Yeah, I’ll probably just do that.

Leigh

Leigh seemed too perfect. A 6 foot 4 mountain man, Leigh was studying for his masters in neuroscience at USC. I was immediately smitten. After a few messages about nature and mountains we’ve climbed, Leigh asked me to coffee. I put on makeup for the event. That’s a big deal for me. 

We chatted for a couple hours. He didn’t buy my coffee. Is that awkward? Should I expect guys to do that? Whatever.

I got in the car to drive home and was pretty sure I’d fallen in love. I was planning our wedding in my head as I sped back toward West Hollywood. I told my roommate that I’d finally had the perfect date.

Clearly, Leigh didn’t feel that way. I texted him to thank him for the date. No response. A few days later, I asked him if he wanted to go to a concert at a venue we both wanted to check out. No answer. This bastard was ghosting me (ghosting: the act of completely disappearing after a date). I couldn’t believe it. I had already married him in my head and now I’m going through an imaginary divorce. In case you’re wondering why I was so into Leigh after one meeting and so devastated to be ghosted, here’s his photo.

Rejection aside, I’d still jump him. Oooooof.

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