post partum

After our third date where Dan came unhinged over my unwillingness to spend the night, I honestly figured I would never hear from him again. I already had a short trip planned to visit family, and gladly hopped on the plane to get away from the insanity of the whirlwind un-romance.

As I de-briefed my fam on the wild ride that is Dan's emotional instability, I realized the best part of my time with Dan was trapped on his phone. On our third date he captured me and this delightful elderly raver doing the robot together. I really wanted this footage. I debated the risk of texting Señor non compos mentis to ask him for the video, or if I should just let it go because that's what that frozen chick would tell me to do.

Well I hemmed and hawed, and ultimately decided to text Dan.  What's the worst that could happen? He doesn't reply? No loss if you don't have it to begin with.  *deep breath*

Is there any way you could email me the video of me dancing with that lady? I'd love to see if if you still have it. 

*hit send*

Ok if he doesn't text back that's fine. A few hours later...

He replies! He will send it! And he does! Aaaand he has an iPhone which apparently takes shitty video. Ugh. My video is clear and you can see the lady and her intense dance moves (thank you superior camera of the Galaxy S9). His video you can't even really tell that there are two people in the video; you just see a few blinky lights floating in the blackness. Ugh. All that worry and making contact for nothing. Oh well. Moving on!

but doing the Robot with a elderly raver probably WON'T happen twice!! 😭

Except...

A few days later he reaches out - How was your trip? 

I'm sorry, what? Did you get amnesia? We ended our last date where you were YELLING at me that I had insulted your family. For some reason, I replied. I should have just not ever responded, but for some reason I thought he was maybe trying to restore his reputation in my eyes, apologize for yelling, or at least make nice so we end things on good terms.  I have a flaw in that I almost always have to respond to a text, even if I don't like you.

Just at the Chicago airport now. 

No reply. Ok good. He got the message. Until he didn't. The following evening he texted asking if I had gotten back safely, and that he would like to see me soon, and he's at an art walk if I'm not doing anything right now.

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, DAN!?!?!!??

I am as clear as I can possibly be:

I'm home. I don't think we are looking for the same things in a relationship. It is probably best if we go our separate ways. 

Because I am not looking for a psychopath as a life partner, so, best you keep looking sir.  His response is truly a must-see-to-believe, so here are images of his actual text messages that followed.

telling me how I "should" have been

Text translation: I think you know better. I think we might have a difference as far as timing, but that's about it. It worries me that you draw that conclusion. All I said was to keep the physical out of things. We should be friends. You should've been totally agreeable to that if you were at all sincere, but as soon as you can't have your cake and eat it too, then you want to call it quits.

"shame" on me for making "assumptions"

What we have here is textbook codependent manipulations. What can a woman expect from a guy like this? A whiny narcissistic asshole that won't let you have friends, makes you feel bad for having an opinion, and explains any problem you might have with any of the above as your fault. My friends were up in arms, wanting to beat him up, how could Dan say my head was up my ass? Honestly, to me, that one of the least offensive things he said. The worst are the more subtle accusations of how I am a terrible person. (Which, to be fair, I did insult his family, so really I am a terrible person. LOL)

I never responded. Somehow I got over my impulse to reply to everything and everyone, because people like Dan feed on attention. My non-doctor diagnosis: Dan is a manipulative narcissistic personality disorder. Here is a great article that highlights every red flag I saw and every tactic he used on me at one point or another.

Lesson learned here? Look yourself up in the White Pages, then contact them to get your listing removed. Apparently some of us need a psychopathic date to realize we shouldn't have our info just out there for anyone to stalk us. But you don't need that.  There's no reason the whole internet needs to know where you live, who your family members are, where they live, all their contact info, etc. If they really want to stalk you, at least make them pay for a background check.

*Dan didn't stalk me, he never contacted me again after that last text, I never ever felt in danger physically when I was with him, but better safe than sorry*

date three, set your crazy free

At the end of our second date, I still had teensy reservations about Dan. Mostly that he seemed to be feeling so very much more feelings so very much more quickly than me. I was developing an affinity for Dan, but we had spent a grand total of about 6 hours together thusfar and I was still warming up.

For our third date, when it came time to figure out what we were going to do, Dan wanted me to come over to his place for dinner and (half of) a movie. No thank you Dan I know the code and I am not ready for the intimacy that snuggling on the couch, smooching and the inevitable naked grope sesh that is ordering dinner and watching netflix.

I would much rather go to a public place and DO something. This is only our third date, after all. I still need to be woo'd and I don't want a relationship where all we ever do is sit on the couch and watch shows. If you set the precedent early, it is onerously hard to break the habit.

I suggest going to see Marty & Elayne at the Dresden (made famous by the movie Swingers) or an improv show at iO West or the Groundlings. Dan says he doesn't want to do those things but how about dancing? Yes! Sure! That sounds fun and not code for sex. He requests I meet him at his place for a drink first (for fuck's sake Dan) and then we can walk, ride share or he can drive to one of several dancing spots he knows. I don't know anywhere to go dancing that isn't horribly douchey, way too loud inside to talk, filled with coked out models and requires the purchase of a $700 bottle of shitty alcohol to have a place to sit down so I acquiesce to coming downtown.

Why yes, this bottle has been secretly refilled with Popov

I arrive at his place (the one above the restaurant where he had me meet him on our first date) and am re-annoyed at the self-serving/laziness of our first date meeting spot and simultaneously am glad for it since it seems to be one of the few places downtown that has street parking available.

Dan is woefully underprepared with drink mixers, but manages to fix me something palatable. How is he so ill-equipped when this is the date he suggested.... but I digress.  I watch him make it because he is technically still a stranger and this is dating in LA. I don't need to be roofied or killed. We chill at his place for about an hour, which is sparsely but nicely appointed and has an air of bachelor-ness without smelling like gym socks and loneliness. We put on shoes (he was twitchy about me taking more than half a step in his apartment wearing shoes) and headed out.

We grabbed a ride share to the first spot. It was completely dead inside. (insert joke here about being dead inside) Instead of hanging out with the 8 or 12 people in this bar, we walk to the next spot he has in mind. The next place has an $8 cover and is playing deeply genre-specific music. I like most types of music, but I think Dan and I both were thinking of something more like a DJ with varied music styles. We hike over to where his car was parked and he drove us to the third spot, which was a perfect mix of great DJ, not too crowded, and spots to sit and chat in between cutting rugs.

luckily I was wearing my jogging heels

There was a taco truck outside, and he said he was hungry. We grabbed tacos and ate standing on the street, talking about the real sh*t life is about - kids, the future, love languages, who we are, what we are looking for in a partner, etc. We seem to be on the same page about nearly everything... maybe this could really work between us...

Inside the DJ is playing a fun eclectic set, there is a vintage photo booth that uses real film, and the vibe is great. We order a drink and decide to take some pix. If Dan is going to be someone I date for a while or forever, how great would it be to have photo evidence of our third date, the date where it really solidified? We are adorbs in our pix.

We hit the dance floor and the DJ is slaying with a fun mix of music styles, genres and beats from several different eras. Dan can really boogie down and isn't afraid to be free on the dance floor. He also isn't using this as the opportunity to grope and squeeze, which is refreshing.

After a bit of time on the dance floor, we escape to the bar to rest for a minute. He asks if I want another drink. I've had one at his place, and one at the bar, so I decline. I have a huge day the next day, plus I want to keep my wits about me. We refresh with water and hit the dance floor again.

We are having fun! There is a woman there who I would estimate to be about 60, getting funky and wearing an ensemble of various types of "glow" sticks. I took a great video of her. Then she sees me... and one of the greatest moments of my life... she and I do the robot together. For a solid 2-3 minutes. Dan captures our robots in all their glory on his phone. This date is turning into one of the greatest nights!

Dancing with glow-lady was amazing, but I needed another rest. We found respite in a booth, and canoodled in. This when red flag number (2? 3? a zillion?) whatever popped up.

I want to take care of you.

He says, staring into my eyes. I nervously look away, "um, ok... thanks?"

What's wrong? Be honest with me. 

"Well, I don't know what you mean by that. Do you want to be my sugar daddy? Do you want to give me orgasms? What does 'take care of' mean to you?"

I want us to take care of each other, spiritually, emotionally, and physically. Does this mean orgasms? Well, yes, but that is only a part of it. A relationship should encompass all these things. 

Hmm... Ok, I mean, that is odd phrasing, but that is what I am looking for when you come right down to it. I want a partner, and that does comprise all those areas. "Oh. Ok, well, then, I want that too."

Actually, there is more to it than this, but it is sweet sentiment.

We hit the dance floor one more time. At this point I'm sweaty and my jogging heels are starting to reach their limits of comfort, so I lead us back to the bar for more hydration. Dan has become more and more physically and verbally intimate with me throughout the evening (read: handsy with adulation), and by this point he is completely devoted to me. He says something over the top complimentary, to which I reply, "I bet you say that to all the girls." Dan says he doesn't. "Uh, huh, sure you do. You say that to all the girls!" I say, as I bat my eyelashes and twirl my hair around my finger. (I never claimed to be good at flirting) Dan says he needs air and abruptly gets up and goes outside.

I sit at the bar and sip my ice water, wondering what is happening. Did Dan overheat? I'm pretty close to that myself after all this dancing. Does he smoke and I didn't realize? Is he going to get high? Does he suffer from sensory overload? Was it something I said? Did he need to take a phone call? Panic attack?

After several minutes, Dan comes back inside. He is visibly upset. Like, not in tears, but maybe he was outside.

C'mon, lets dance.

Whoah there buddy. What's going on? Are you ok?  Something is going on with you.

It's just that I don't say that to all the girls. I told you before, I mean what I say and I say what I mean. You're not like any other girl. I really mean the things I say to you. 

WHAT THE FUCK, DAN 

You're practically in tears because I teased you? Because I attempted flirting? (poorly, yes I know; we covered that already) I walk him back from the ledge, reminding him that teasing is one of my love languages, and I don't really think he actually says that to every girl, and I didn't mean to make him upset.

DING DING MOTHERF*CKING DING

Despite the blazing red flag, I wasn't done with Dan yet.... partially because he said, yes, he knows, he just got a bit upset because he really likes me and doesn't want me to think he is dating anyone else or is interested in anyone else. He actually really loves my sassy side. Conversation moves on, and returns to seemingly normal status.  Maybe he's just a sensitive artist type?

Then Dan says he wants to ask me to spend the night tonight, but knows I will say no. I agree, stating my giant day the next day and really needing to get sleep. Dan says, well then I better get you back to your car. It is late-ish, and think of how sweet and thoughtful he is now being. He really is very kind and considerate.

We hop in his car and the ride back is filled with laughter, teasing, and overall some of the best conversation we've had all night. No weird overtures of "I want us to take care of each other," just regular banter.

Dan pulls up in front of my car, and we smooch a bit before I start to gather my purse to leave.

Can I ask why you won't come up to my apartment? I want us to take care of each other. 

There is is again. I weigh the options of copping out with the "big day tomorrow" or being vulnerable and honest. I'm trying to be better about communication, so ... "Well Dan, I view spending the night with someone as a very intimate thing, and I'm just not quite there yet."

It was as though a switch got flipped. He pulled about as far away as a person can in a car, crossed his arms over his chest and wouldn't make eye contact.

Oh, I see. Well, we can just be friends then. 

I'm sorry, what? No, that's not what I-

No, no, that's cool. We can just be friends.

How did you make that leap? I just want to get to know you more; I wasn't saying only be friends, its just that I'm not ready to spend the night.

Oh, yeah? When do you think you will be ready? In six months? A YEAR?  

...I don't put a timeframe on these things, I don't count dates or days or months, it is just a feeling of intimacy and when I am ready to share that with someone.

Oh ok, ok. I see how it is. We'll just be "friends" and you can let me know when you are "ready." I THOUGHT we were going to take care of each other. I thought we liked each other. I THOUGHT we understood each other. 

Listen bro, we've only had 3 dates, spent a total of maybe 12 hours together. I mean, if you just want to go upstairs and bang, then let's go. We can just go fuck if that's all you're looking for. But I actually like you, and wanted to take the time to get to know you.

MY PARENTS SLEPT TOGETHER AFTER THEY HAD ONLY KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR THREE HOURS. YOU JUST INSULTED MY FAMILY!!!!!!

WHAT THE FUCK, DAN!!!! (yes, I actually said this out loud this time!) I am not your mother and this is not your parents situation!

No, no, no, you're right. You're right! I'm sorry!! I'm sorry... It's just that you are being so unreasonable! 

...My first instinct is to defend myself. Me?? Unreasonable??? I am not the unreasonable one in this situation. Far from it.  But I have the car door open and one leg is already out of the car at this point. Dan's freak flag is flying so boldly I want to get as far away from it as possible. So I just say, "you know what, you're right. I am."

So that's how its going to be then. That's it.  

Yes, yes it is.

And I get all the way out of Dan's car and into mine. He roars off. I assume that is the last I will ever see or hear from Dan again.

As my middle school teacher used to say, when you "assume" you make an "ass" out of "u" and "me."

**sidebar: sadly, the photos from the booth were left at the bar. They were real film, and were wet when they came out of the machine so we set them aside to dry. And there they stayed.***

Second date, Second chances

After a successful first date, Dan wanted more. We were texting back and forth the few days between date one and two, and then had to decide what we were going to do for the second outing. I had gone to Dan's side of town for our first, and he had promised my side of town for the second. So when he said

Do you mind if we just do something low-key? Maybe casual dinner and a movie?

Of course! We don't have to paint the town red every time. He suggests we meet at his place and we can ride-share or he can drive us from there.

WHAT THE FUCK DAN

I don't say this.  Instead of un-politely reminding him that he promised to come to my side of town for the second date, I suggest 3 movie theaters that are all about half-way in between us. (I would have suggested a movie theater near my house, but there isn't really one) One of my best girlfriends lives downtown and these are the 3 theaters that she and I meet at regularly. Dan agrees, and suggests 4 movies as possibilities. I give my #1 and #2 choices, and we make plans to meet at a casual salad place nearby the theater.

I make it there right on time, and Dan is MOTHERF*CKING LATE. Only by about 10 minutes, but still! Goddammit. I don't like waiting.

literally me

We order salads and food through the line, and find a spot to eat. We have a lovely dinner. Chemistry is crankin. I confide to Dan about my friend who is gravely ill, he shares his movie script he is working on. We head to the movie theater, and low-and-behold Dan has f*cked up the movie times. Well, actually he f*cked up everything about the movie. My #1 movie isn't even playing at that theater. And the #2 choice he had the wrong times; we missed the start of the movie by about 30 minutes. I can tell he truly feels really bad about it, so I don't make a big deal out of it. We quickly find the movie I want to see at a nearby theater. We hop into his car and head over. While we are driving, he asks if I mind terribly if he stops in quickly to the grocery store. He was going to go before, but didn't make it.

WHAT THE FUCK DAN

I do not say this. We have the time, and so even though I don't really want to shop with him, I am a good sport about it. I follow him around the store as he ping-pongs around the aisles trying to find what he needs. He finally gets what he needs and we check out. Throughout all this, at least he is being cute and charming and funny.

We pile back into his car and head to the movie. We still have enough time to grab a drink at the bar to take into the show. The movie is fine, and he grabs my hand again as we leave. He is still extremely complimentary and affectionate. I like it, even though for some odd reason it feels like I shouldn't. Dan is also a fairly good listener and really seems to be putting me first in how he executes everything on the date. Well, except for the groceries.

He drives me back to my car and we sit in his car for a little bit, talking about life, love, the future, the past, and how short our time on this planet is. Its really lovely. We smooch a bit. Dan says if I wanted to come over, I would be welcome any time. That he just really likes me and wants to spend more time with me. I politely say I will be going home but I like him too.

All of the things that were sticking in my gut on the first date seem to have melted away. I am still a little overwhelmed by how quickly Dan seems to be falling for me. I am most definitely not falling as fast; Dan's affections feel a bit ... unfounded. But he seems so sincere. 

Things are going well enough that I agree to a third date....

first date foibles

We had arranged to meet at 8PM at XYZ restaurant in DTLA. I had texted him my ETA (right on motherf*cking time) as I was leaving my house. I arrived just at 8, and had parked and was walking up to the restaurant at 8:05. When I entered the restaurant, it was moderately fine dining, and the host asked me if I had a reservation. I said I was meeting someone and I wasn't sure if he was here already. She offered to walk me through the restaurant to see if he was already seated. The restaurant and bar had only a smattering of people, so it was easy to see he wasn't there yet. We retreated to the lobby where I sat on the bench to wait for him. I texted him that I was at XYZ restaurant. He replied he would be there in 5 minutes.
*try not to be annoyed that he knew your ETA, it was now approx 7 minutes after the appointed time, and he still needed 5 more minutes to get to the place HE chose*
Ok, no prob. *waits* 

Another text:

Do you mind if I stop at the ATM real quick?

*try not to be fucking annoyed that he didn't take care of that BEFORE the date that he arranged*
*text girlfriend for moral support*
*take a deep breath and reply*

Reply text:

Are you fucking kidding me

You're already late of course I don't mind waiting longer

First you make me drive to you, then you are late, now this???

Ok.

 *texts girlfriend again for moral support. she urges a second chance; maybe he's nervous*

He calls.... no, he didn't mean for you to wait in the restaurant! Of course he wants you to come with him! And then you can decide where to go for dinner as we walk to the bank. *deep breath and smile*

We start to walk a few blocks to get to the bank/atm. He is tall and handsome and charming and walks on the outside and opens the door for you at the bank. Ok fine, let's overlook the first foible.

We decide on a little taco place that he likes because it is female and latina owned/operated and he likes supporting those types of businesses. *ok that is sweet and the right thing to do* Plus the tacos are to-die-for delish. I think, well, even if this doesn't go well I've learned of an amazing new taco spot. (Chicas Tacos) But it is going well. We are noshing and chatting about all kinds of things, connecting, finding common ground. He is redeeming himself posthaste.

We sat at that little red table.

Now Chicas doesn't serve alcohol, so he suggests walking to a bar he loves, if I'm open to spending more time with him. I am. We head down to Rudolph's Bar & Tea at the Freehand Hotel. It is gorgeous. Totally decked out mid-century modern (my fave) and they have specialty cocktails made with tea. Strange, but still pretty tasty. We have a drink there and are still having a great time. About halfway through the drink he attempts a kiss. Uhm, NO. Hold your horses bro. I tell him I don't kiss on the first date. (yes, sometimes I do, but as a rule, I don't. If you want all the reasons, that will have to be another time. I could give a whole dissertation of male/female expectations vs reality and hyper-sexualization and unsubstantiated intimacy) I can now see through the lens of hindsight that this was my first red flag.

From the get-go Dan was very affectionate. Holding my hand, touching my lower back, etc as we walked down the street. He said that was so no nefarious characters would mess with me. *sweet* At the restaurant and the bar, he is very complimentary. You are so sweet, so funny, the smartest woman I've met in a very long time. I can see this working out. I feel quite flattered, and my ego is massively enjoying the adulation. This is what I want, I think. I want a guy who thinks I hung the moon! My gut is nagging me though. How can he feel this strongly when we have spent barely two hours together.

He wants to go to another bar. They have live music, and we are having such a good time. We leave Rudolph's and walk to another bar I cannot remember the name of. I have a second drink, he does not. We laugh, we snuggle in a booth, we have a great time. He is still very vocal about how he feels about me. It almost makes me uncomfortable, because I am so unaccustomed to hearing such honeyed words.

It was late, and longer than I usually spend on a first date (gotta leave them wanting more, right?) so Dan walks me to my car. At the car, I am swayed, plus I really want to, so I give him a smooch. It is nice and he asks when he can see me again. (It is a Wednesday) and I tell him Monday. This is not some BS where he has to "earn" weekend dates (yes apparently some gals do that), I was just truly busy every single night till Monday.

Second red flag:

Oh so you're one of those girls.

What do you mean by that?!?

One of those girls who are always busy and I never get to see you.  

He starts to back away as if to leave.

No, wait! *why are you shrinking from me; we are having a fantastic time* I'm just actually busy this weekend until Monday. It just happens to be that way this week. Some weeks I am crammed busy, some weeks I have literally nothing going on outside of work. My schedule can be really varied.

Oh, OK. Well I guess Monday it is then. 

We agree that we will touch base to make a decision on what to do closer to Monday. I offer to drive him back to his house. That is when I find out that the reason he gave me the XYZ restaurant to meet at is because it is in the first floor of his apartment building.

YOU LAZY MOTHERF*CKER YOU DIDN'T EVEN LEAVE YOUR APARTMENT UNTIL I TEXTED YOU I WAS WAITING FOR YOU???? FUCK YOU. But of course I don't say this out loud. I have had a wonderful first date and if this is his only fault... well, that really isn't so bad. Nobody is perfect, and I am willing to embrace certain human flaws, especially if they can be fixed.

He promises the second date he will come to me...

bumbling through bumble

In a most likely misguided attempt at making dating better, I tried a different app. Because, you know, a different app will have different results. Riiigghhhhtttt. Anyway at least with bumble they make you feel like you, as the woman, have some power in the situation. Which of course is not true. You are just forced to make the first move, which in my mind only encourages the laziness of men because they can just sit around and wait for you to message them. *run on sentence* *don't care*

This is not supposed to be a rant about the laziness of men in the dating scene. Fuck.

OK! So I matched with Dan* on the bumbles, came up with a sufficiently witty opening line, and he actually replied! Woohoo! Win #1 in the horrible land of dating apps. What a sad commentary on the state of dating that even getting a reply is a reason to celebrate. ugh. (bitter betty party of ONE)

conversation started! hooray!

Dan is tall, handsome, and seemingly super smart. A VR software engineer, masters from USC, varied interests that include art, science, music, politics, etc. He seems dreamy on paper (well, on app). We message back and forth a bit on the app. He still seems pretty amazing. Smart, funny, and most important - he is actually responding and engaged in conversation. I let myself get a little bit excited about possibly meeting someone in person.

how do I do what?

We exchange numbers and continue with our messaging via text. We don't just message forever and never actually meet in person. He actually asks me out!! Truly a feat in and of itself. Now, I've been stood up 3 times just this year, so as far as dates, I believe it when I see the man in person.

He lives and works in DTLA (downtown Los Angeles) and I live in the San Fernando Valley. For the rest of the world that doesn't live in Los Angeles, this city is so large that you feel like you have a long distance relationship if the person lives more than about 15 miles away from you because 15 miles in traffic can take over an hour. We here in the city of Lost Angels always talk about dating someone that is "geographically desirable." If the person lives too far away, you will literally never see them. The love of my life might be in Los Angeles, but I will never know his adoring gaze because he lives in a neighborhood on the other side of town.

PERSONAL TRADE AREA. Don't live in this box? buh-bye

YOU'RE. You might be geographically desirable but you're not grammatically desirable. 

Dan takes the lead (thankfully) and arranges for the date. He asks me to meet him at a particular restaurant in DTLA. We might not actually go there, he says, but there are a ton of places in walking distance and we can decide when we meet.

Now normally I would prefer the guy come to my neighborhood, or at least meet in the middle, but I am so excited to actually have a date (can you tell that most of my matches don't ever come to anything???) that I over look this small transgression. Besides, DTLA isn't outside my acceptable geography. I agree to the terms of the date and get ready.

Showered, fluffed up, dressed in a casual but cute first date outfit complete with "walking heels" I make my way to downtown...continued in the next post...

Definition of "walking heels": When I lived in NYC women had two types of heels: walking heels and taxi shoes. Taxi shoes are usually sky high, sexy, and completely impractical. Walking heels are reasonably comfortable, suitable for dancing the night away, traipsing through the streets while still retaining a sense of femininity and sex appeal. 

taxi heels

walking heels

a year and a half later...

I think I got tired of posting the same shit wrapped up differently that I stopped posting. Dating sucks. Blah Blah Blah. Work sucks. Blah Blah Blah. And even less interesting, I have a great job and a boyfriend. blah blah blah

I suppose I should have worked harder on making my life different or more interesting, but instead I succumbed to the monotony of shitty dating in LA and eking out a living wage. Which I must say, earning a living wage in LA is no small feat when you are doing the side hustle jobs and your "career" doesn't have a straightforward trajectory like more classic choices. And said "career" doesn't exactly "pay" when you are not "famous." Or it does "pay" but the "pay" is "deferred" until the film/show/short/webseries/whatever makes money, which is usually "never."

Anyway, I digress.

I have been dating, and working a job that doesn't suck. The dating, well, that pretty much has stayed sucky. I have been stood up THREE times this year and ghosted I couldn't even tell you how many times. I am absolutely sick and tired of guys who just don't even seem to try. Uhm, hello??? We matched, we chatted, and then.... *poof*

Or we match and don't even chat before *poof*

I long for the days where a guy actually had to come up with the nerve to call you. At least then they were partially invested and had a small iota of follow through. Maybe it might even culminate in a date!!

Pretty sure this is how old timey phones worked.

ANYWAY I say all this to preface the next post where I will regale you with the tale of crazy-pants Dan* who managed to hide his crazy for nearly 3 full dates before it came out faster than a dick-pic from an online troll and with more 180˚ turnaround than a bought-and-paid-for politician after election.

*name changed to protect the crazy. 

Botox, baby

I have never claimed to be a fashionista, or an advertising maven, or costuming expert. I have my basic uniform of t-shirt and jeans that I wear most days, swapping out for a tank in the hottest days and a button down shirt or plain sweater in the winter. It's pretty basic (but not BASIC, uhm-kayyyy??).

So even though we have now thoroughly established I'm no clothing expert, I am appalled every time the Botox for migraines ads come on TV. The lead gal they cast is *basically* (pun intended) beautiful, and does a reasonable job pretending to walk around migraine-free.

"I need a venti soy half-caff extra hot PSL stat!"

But. Her. Outfit. It is the most unflattering, ugly, horrendously dated frumpy thing I've ever seen. Boxy, blousy, too-big, droopy button down shirt tucked in to frumpy, pleated, too-big, cankle-length khaki pants.

Maybe if I put my hands on my waist you'll know I have one...

They have taken a reasonably attractive woman who likely has a "perfect" body under that mess and made her look like a lumpy dumpy homely frump-meiser. That costumer should be fired! S/he obviously has a grudge against this poor lady who is just trying to make a dollar for herself by doing a really stupid Botox ad.

*just think about the paycheck. smile for the paycheck. moneymoneymoneymoney*

I mean, look at this woman! She more than likely has a body most women would kill for and you can't even see it under all those pleats and poufy clothes. She might not have migraines anymore but she has a headache from looking at herself in the mirror.