No Means Yes?

As I’ve said before, I’m girly and not super anti-gender roles, or so I think. I guess I’m just into people doing what they want, more so than being anti feminist. I want a pink couch and doilies on my tables but I’m not taking my husband’s name if I get married.

This Stanford rapist business has really got my blood boiling, as it should everyone’s blood. And whether it’s that or just my own changing expectations in the face of a (legally at least) more accepting world, I’m just continually shocked/infuriated at interactions I have with racist, sexist strangers.

Take, at the library.

I’d like to test drive Chrissy Teigen’s cookbook* because her food looks awesome and she’s enjoyable. I ask the librarian to put it on hold.
She rolls her eyes.

I say “you don’t approve?”

The librarian goes on to explain how John Legend is so classy and articulate (aka safe for white people) and she’s stupid and raunchy and should just keep her mouth shut and look pretty. Repeatedly.
Maybe librarians should read and not talk. And not revile people they saw once on a talk show.
Next, take every guy I’m talking to right now.
Yea, I’m a pain in the ass. I want to hang out with you on my terms. But if we’re meeting for the first time, I think that’s ok, especially if you’re trying to meet me after less than 24 hours of messaging. And if I say no, I don’t need to explain myself and you don’t need to try to analyze me.
Do you want to hang out tomorrow?
I’m working
You can take a break.
Actually I can’t
Is it because I’m younger?
No it’s because I’m working.
I’m promise I’ll be a gentleman! I just want to get to know you.
Listening to my answer would be a good start on knowing me.
I’m sorry. I’ll stop talking to you. I’ve ruined our chances.

And so on…

Another fun one is the “hey add me on snapchat (by the way I’m sending you nudes)”

I’ll say gross and they’ll say why don’t you like it. Having to even explain that much is too much but if I’m feeling generous maybe I say I don’t like sexual talk or pictures. I’m up for hanging out but not that.
Why not? You can trust me. I won’t share them. Is it because you don’t like mine? You won’t send me any?
I know my mailman better than you, dude! What kind of creep prefers talking about sex to getting a drink! And ps if you won’t take my explanation for why I don’t want your dumb pics I certainly won’t trust you to respect me in person.
People are pretty transparent. Give it a second chance after one I’m busy, but two mean get lost. Don’t make us spell it out.
Just stick with the golden rule. Treat others as you’d like to be treated, and keep your dicks and racism to yourself.
*get the cookbook. it’s good. and get it from a library to support sustainability and community resources and making middle aged white women everywhere uncomfortable by bringing up “raunchy” celebrities.
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How to Feel a Little Less Lonely….

From the Today Show*, that bastion of feminism, comes a tip for putting on a bracelet alone: paperclips!

Twist it into an s and use it as an extender to hold the bracelet as you clasp.

Perfect for the independent office supply hoarder.

I’m sure when I’m feeling sad sacky I’ll still manage to feel bad that I’m staring into a paperclip putting on my bracelet instead of the eyes of a handsome man, but it’s better than nothing.

*from the Today show and apparently many other places. Photo credit: Lifehacker

I put on a pair of yoga pants tonight and realized I’ve had them since 2002.

One of the longest relationship I’ve ever had is with elastic-waist lounge wear. (Actually that is pretty apropos considering my commitment to lazing.)

Meanwhile, today in Facebook updates:

  • friend living in Hawaii with 3 kids
  • friend vacationing abroad with almost 3 kids
  • friend purchasing 2nd home

5 years ago these friends had 0 homes and 0 kids.

But 5 years ago I had my yoga pants and I still do. So that’s…something?

Hindsight Update

Right after last night’s post I heard from the guy. Paraphrased:

Bitter: What are you up to tonight?

Me: Eating popcorn and watching tv.

Bitter: Your not gonna invited me over lol

[Typed “I don’t share popcorn with people who can’t spell you’re” but forgot to hit send]

(15 minute later)

Bitter: Do you throw your phone across the room after you get a text?

Me: I’m very busy with tv.

Bitter: Whatever

So I think that’s settled. But when I got up this morning something happened and my first thought was “Oh I want to tell [my student].” And I realized that I’m more eager to talk to and spend time with a high school girl than this guy. It was a great reminder that a) my gut tells me when I like someone (on any level, and this guy doesn’t even meet student-teacher likeability levels) and b) I’m not so messed up that I can’t form relationships and share things. Even if those things are beating your score in Words with Friends.

 

Hindsight

Ever go on a date and it’s kinda ok and then you get home and start identifying all these dealbreakers?

This seems to be happening kind of a lot lately. While we’re hanging out chatting I’m not dying to get home. I think “I’d give him a second date.” Then I get home to my couch’s warm embrace away from the glow of whiskey and feel compelled to text.

“So I just went out with a more bitter version of [insert ex here].”

“So this guy tonight was grilling me about where I work. Is my job weird?”

“So this guy tonight said he puts butter in his coffee…”

(Ok so that last one is apparently a real thing. And actually something I might try when I’m not busy scarfing straight brown sugar.)

Am I sabotaging myself or am I trying so hard to be open minded I don’t even know what kind of company I like to keep anymore?

Like when I met up with the guy this week for drinks and he didn’t drink. That seemed weird and also awkward since I enjoy drinking and did so heartily. Naturally he didn’t pay for my drinks, which as we know is a major annoyance that I worry I should be more modern about but don’t want to be modern about. Espesh when my bar tab for the night is $9.50.

Also when I tried to explain him to a friend and said “he was kinda super negative but maybe it’s good to not always be optimistic?” Hearing myself out loud rationalizing a guy’s behavior by suggesting a positive outlook is a bad thing was jarring…

The past two half-hearted 2nd dates I regretted and the fact that I decided against sending a thank you text lest I have to have a conversation were a push to let it be a one and done with this guy. But I’ll keep wondering if I’m letting a guy’s one bad night keep me from a relationship or if I’m just too picky.

Trying to trust your (anxious, prone to depression) gut while also having an open heart is as confusing as it is tough.

 

 

*PS: That VH1 show Hindsight was awesome. Bring that back!

So Lonely

Actually not at all.

But apparently I’m supposed to be working hard not to feel bad this Valentine’s Day. Talking to a video of Fabio is better than being alone!

Usually Valentine’s Day is split between ugly jewelry ads and anti-Valentines promos (often overlaps with the Sexy and Single angle). Recently, the single-and-cool-with-it-so-I’ll-celebrate-with-my-bitches (but actually praying for a last minute date) group’s gotten played up.

And I’m always for the Pal-entine’s Day ideal. Stickers and puns and half price candy February 15!

However, it seems this year advertisers have caught on to the demographic of just-kinda-single-but-gonna-need-to-eat-Sunday. We get the Singles Blizzard:

This has no theme but delicious, yet somehow it’s supposed to be for singles like me. At least put a heart in it. Until I get a free blizzard by proving how man-free I am, don’t try to use my relationship status to sell things!

 

 

Credit: https://twitter.com/DairyQueen

(Wo)Man Up

I am facing an epidemic of p-word men. Men are not supposed to be high maintenance. Go drink your scotch and grunt somewhere. I have enough time keeping myself together, I can’t worry about stroking your ego.

The past week has featured two separate p-word situations. I’m sitting back and observing, because I am not going to jeopardize my content solo life surrounded by pets and pillows if I’m expected to put in work before the first date even happens.

Scene #1: OkCupid

Message exchanges begins and goes very well. Witty, casual, shared interests. Without fail, responds within 15 minutes of every message, but reliable is nice sometimes.

Then comes: “Not sure if this is too forward, but I thought maybe you might be open to chatting on text. Here is my number if that’s ok with you.”

You’re not asking for a kidney. Just exchange the numbers and carry on.*

Accidentally on purpose I text a few days later.

“Oh it’s so great to hear from you. I assumed I had been too forward and felt bad for giving you my number.”

If he feels bad about giving me a phone number can you imagine the trauma if he was late to dinner one night?

Needless to say, he has not mustered the courage to schedule a date. He has referenced his diet and the gym on more than one occasion. I even know where his gym is located. And I know what he bought at the grocery store to “keep it tight. Girls don’t want any roundness.” I was not aware of that but fine.

He has referenced things we could do on a date:

What kind of food do you like? If we went on a date, I’d need to know.

Yet, no dates. And I’m neither holding my breath nor keeping it tight in anticipation. I’m keeping it cheese.

Scene #2: I didn’t meet this guy online.

I repeat: I DID NOT MEET THIS GUY ON LINE.

Automatic first place. A real person interesting enough in real life to exchange numbers/accept my number thrust at him.*

Except then the multiple texts by the time I got home from the bar.

“I’m so grateful we talked. I’m just kicking myself for not having the courage to come up to you myself and talk”

(Pro-tip: Avoid revealing weakness and lack of self-confidence in the first text. Really, withhold all emotions until the 6 month mark, and even then save the gratitude for things like pizza.)

He did manage to set up a date relatively soon, and follow up without assuming my scheduling issues were an outright rejection. Unfortunately the actual planning of the date involved multiple messages requiring multiple 3/3 screens worth of text. No restaurant in the zip code was left unsuggested. I seriously almost cancelled, nervous he would pee his pants when I walked in the door.

Once we met up we really had a nice time. No sarcasm. He was gentlemanly, easy to talk to, and lighthearted. A red flag or two but a good time. He went along with petty bar theft and wanted to bet on football. He wins and his prize was a 2nd date with me. Adorbs! Flirtation AND Gambling.

Get home and again a text from him. This time assuring me that he wants a second date but he wants me to know I don’t really have to follow through with the bet if I don’t want to because I shouldn’t ever have to do anything I don’t want to do but it would be really nice to go out again because (^&@&^#$%*&)^$@()!*&^#$.

I assured him I’d be happy to go out.

Few days later I ask how the rest of his weekend was.

“Saturday was the highlight. I had sweet dreams all night after meeting a wonderful lady: you! I hope to be able to relive the night.

And no date request since then.

I’ll go out with him again, despite risk of barfing. But a 44 year old needs to figure out on his own how to ask for a 2nd date without reciting a sonnet.

I don’t do high maintenance. No one should have to. Sexist or not, you need to man up.

*Just ask for my number. Seriously. Don’t make me do the work!!