A little unsolicited advice from ya girl.

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I had a date with a guy last night that went really, really well. He took me to a nice bar, we had a couple of drinks, and we made great conversation. We left on good terms, with plans to get dinner on Thursday.

Then, I woke up this morning with a text from him saying that he was surprised I didn’t come across as more submissive and that he “didn’t see being able to play with me” if I wasn’t. Hoping I’d misunderstood the tone over text, I replied that I don’t usually play those cards on a first date. He tried to backpedal but, lol, it was clear that he was trying to make me somehow prove myself. 

I think one of the most valuable things that I wish I could go back and tell my younger self is that you shouldn’t waste time on people who make hanging out feel like it’s an audition for something. No person is that worthwhile to necessitate those sort of stakes. Feeling each other out for compatibility is one thing, but having someone make you attempt to prove that you’re worth their energy is an absurd form of negging. So that’s the end of that.

Or, you know, maybe I should take a page from Mariah Carey:

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I went on my first date with somebody I met on tinder (whatever) yesterday and he actually handed me his freaking business card to confirm to me that yes he was a legitimate human being.

But we had a great time. We have some similar interests and he’s a great conversationalist. He’s got a Southern accent which clearly does absolutely nothing at all for me clearly guys clearly. He’s also got about a foot on me, but so does Sir, just about, and practically anybody else I hang out with by default of me being the shortest ever.

We ended up making out in his car at the end for a little while and we’re going to try to see each other again next week. We’ve both got busy schedules and I’m kind of like argh nobody has time for this I definitely do not have time for this but I think I’ve determined that scheduling is the ultimate poly problem.

Ivy Dates #3: The Best Date Ever

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I was literally about to walk out the door Saturday morning when I got a text from the guy who was supposed to take me out. My feelings about the guy were fairly ambivalent. He’s Ivy League-educated, brilliant, fairly successful, he appreciates the arts. But, about a week ago, he got drunk and sent me a lot of reeeeally obnoxious texts. So, I was sort of like, whatever.

Everybody does that at some point in their lives. Anyway, the text read that his family had dropped in by surprise to visit and he couldn’t take me out. I wasn’t sure whether or not to call bullshit, but he apologized a ton and offered to take me out again so I shrugged it off. I walked back upstairs in my cute sundress with my hair done all nice with no plans until the evening.

“Well, it’s a shame, you look lovely,” my mother said. I laughed. “Want to take me out?”

And so we got in the car and headed out to buy some shoes, shamelessly gossip about people we know, yell along to “Sledgehammer” and Pretenders songs in the car and have one of the most pleasant afternoons I’ve had in a while. So, my best date ever turned out to be with my mother. Go figure.

Ivy Dates #2: A Second Chance?

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So, Mr. Finance texted me the other day asking me if I’d had a nice time and saying that he really wanted to take me out again. 

In the words of the immortal Amy Winehouse: What kind of fuckery is this?

My knee-jerk reaction was just to not respond. I had not had a nice time. But, I replied that I had and hoped it would just end there. But, it didn’t. And, so, somehow, I agreed to let him take me out again.

I promise, followers, I have a few reasons. One, I figure sometimes people get nervous, get weird, get obnoxious, get all sorts of things when trying to impress another person.  So, I figure he deserves a second chance and if it’s really awful that’s that. Two, I can be a little bit of a snob. I can see a few undesirable things about someone and blow other things out of proportion to convince myself that they aren’t the right person for me to try to protect myself from disappointment. And, that’s a little obnoxious.

So, Mr. Finance gets another chance, while I try to figure out how to say no to people.

Ivy Dates #1: No, I Don’t Think I Want to Occupy This

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So, tumblr, I mentioned I made an okcupid account. I’ve decided to chronicle the experience on here because whatever I want to and it’s my blog wah wah I promise I’ll post porn, too.

I had my first date on Saturday. He looked great “on paper”. We met in a fairly large city that he works in and I live pretty close to. It left a lot to be desired.

The date. Not the city.

Among the issues were:

  • He works in finance in a really yucky job where he does favors for horrible people. He is completely and totally unashamed of this.
  • Although he said he had picked out a place for us to eat that he liked, he promptly decided upon my arrival that he “wasn’t in the mood for it” and made me pick a place. When I couldn’t decide right away, he became pretty frustrated.
  • Two seconds into lunch and he tries to booze me up.
  • He smells terrible. Awful. But it’s the kind of terrible that you keep sniffing (1) to make sure it’s him and (2) because you’re almost intrigued by how bad it is.
  • He assumed I went to a state school (nothing against public education!!!!!) and started describing his previous academic/current career endeavors to me in an incredibly patronizing tone with vocabulary that was intentionally dumbed down. When it was revealed I go to Ivy University, he sort of just looked at his plate and went, “oh…okay.”
  • When the bill came, he grabbed it right away and made a big show of putting his hand up and being the wealthy hero buying lunch for his poor, pretty starving artist date. If he wasn’t such a dick about it, maybe I would’ve vaguely considered agreeing to let him pay. Instead, I told him I’d like to pay my half and joked it was because I was a third wave feminist. He responded, with a completely serious face, “what the hell’s a feminist?" 
  • He took me to a gallery and then proceeded to demonstrate he has no appreciation at all whatsoever for the arts. 
  • He made weird jokes about my height.
  • Whenever I would talk about my interpretation of a piece of art we were looking at, he’d get all patronizing and say stuff like, "how cute, but I think it’s this…” We’d then consult the description. I was always correct. Always. This irritated him beyond belief.
  • At one point, I was explaining a movement of art to him and he rolled his eyes and declared that “maybe he should have brought a notebook to take notes”.
  • Anytime I even vaguely wandered off-course, he would start criticizing me for it.
  • Before he knew I went to Ivy University, he half-joked that he wanted a trophy wife and then gave me a couple of “any takers?” eyebrow wags.
  • When I told him he was the first okcupid date I had been on, he told me how fortunate I was. (Should’ve kissed his huge fucking feet right there.)

So, no, tumblr, I will not be taking out Mr. Finance for another date. He hasn’t called, I have no desire to reach out to him, and frankly I’m fine with that. I weathered the day while maintaining my politeness and staying pleasant (I didn’t even drop a single f-bomb), so I think I deserve a gold star for showing up, being lovely and getting to see an awesome art installation for my troubles.

Apparently, I’m a five-guy kind of girl.

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While I was about to leave for the gym this evening, I walked past my mother who was on the phone with one of her best guy friends from her 30s. He’s a riot and a wonderful person and lately he’s been trying to fix me up with his son, who is a year older than me. The kid’s pretty attractive and has a really supreme job (mostly because of his father’s connections, but I’ve never actually spoken to him.

My mom handed me the phone and I said hello. Quickly, her friend said, “my son’s alone this weekend. You should come over.”

I laughed, “I have plans.”

“Put your mother on,” he replied.

I handed the phone off. Sometime, soon, yeah, maybe I’d let his son take me out. It’s a little awkward and it feels kind of dynastic, though. Also, they’re pretty conservative 1%ers and I don’t know if I’m quite ready to dive into another foray into messing around with the 1%. Sure, my mom’s friend is totally open and wonderful, but eh. He once made a comment to my mother that I was “perfect but we’ll fix the liberal thing” that sort of turned me off.

“He’s got his friend over,” I could hear my mom’s friend say through the phone.

My mom chuckled, “Ivy’s not really a two-guy kind of girl.” I winked at her and turned to go. “She’s more of a five-guy girl.”

Thanks, Mom.

So, I met a guy the other night.

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Like a real guy. A grown-up guy with a grown-up job. 

This sounds really, really silly. But, honestly, after all the random college stuff, I found myself feeling incredibly immature around him. And he’s only about four years older but, for all the times guys my age tell me I’m precocious and intimidating, I actually felt like a kid.

Because he was all “oh, I like to cook for women” and “I’m really into listening to jazz music”. I’m totally into both. But he wants to settle down like yesterday.

And, while he totally made fun of me for getting a little tipsy and stepping right out of one of my shoes (in my defense, they’re a little on the big side), he was actually able to keep up with my sense of humor and made college guys seem like a bunch of toddlers. Which, no offense to any of my followers, they are.

I’m really not down for the settling down thing or the getting into a serious relationship with someone who is done with grad school and has a career thing, but I see no harm in exploring this. Even SG was like, “please go for it”.

And I will. I’m just being a little coy before responding to his call. 

Here’s to acting like a grown-up.