It’s probably not ideal that I embrace this double standard…

You guys, Waffles Guy is trying to cocktease me! We’re going out again tomorrow, and I’ve been flirting, but he’s all “We’ll see,” and “Time will tell.”

Oh! Oh, honey! That’s adorable! But…hm, how can I phrase this politely…?

I look like Tina Fey’s and Zooey Deschanel’s chubby love child. (I call it “Fey-schanel.”) I have big boobs and bigger daddy issues. I’m pretty sure I can catch a dick anytime I want.

That’s not bragging, because it would be the wrong dick — there’s no ego trip in knowing a random dude would shove himself into me halfheartedly in a townie bar’s restroom. But I believe it’s within my scope of feminine wiles if I were so inclined. (Even better, lemme take my cleavage to Comic-Con and quote “Firefly.” I’ll be married by the end of the day.)

Besides, I’m not hinting at SEX, Presumpty Dumpty. I would just enjoy some kissing. I’m actually terrified to have sex, because it’s been so long I’m worried I’ll be terrible at it, or freak out mentally. So I’m perfectly happy to put off intercourse, but it’s pretty important I know I turn you on, and that your hand gets in my panties pretty soon, ‘kay?

Good talk. I’d high-five you, but I shouldn’t be able to, because WHERE have we just decided your hands should be…?

A man with no face validates mine.

First OkCupid message: “Hi smug, how r u? U r so gorgeous”

Well, look at you, answering your own question! I’m “so gorgeous,” is how I am. See, you don’t need me! You just need to believe in yourself! Good for youuuuu!

He has no photos, and as a general policy I don’t reply to men with no face. You’re on a dating site. If you’re too dumb to know your face might be important, too lazy to upload at least ONE photo (or to type two the extra letters to make REAL words), and so selfish that you’re clearly talking to me on the basis of MY photos because “gorgeous” is all you had to say…

*deep breath*

No.

Waffling on Waffles Guy

So, Friday night I had a first date — waffles! — with an OkCupid guy. After waffles, we walked around New Hope, and he seems nice and likes standup comedy. I didn’t feel a huge spark, but he’s cute, and…like…he’s fine. He’s a dude. *shrug*

He walked me to my car and we agreed to a second date later this week. Then for the goodbye, I thought he was just aiming for a hug, so I leaned my face toward his shoulder, but then he kissed my cheek while I did that, so I thought, “Crap, did I just dodge a kiss on my mouth? I didn’t mean to do that. I like kissing.”

So because I’m a dipshit, I texted him at a light on my way home and said, “Don’t know if I inadvertently dodged the kiss or if you’re just a gentleman, but next time…”

And his response was, “First and foremost a gentleman.”

You guys? You know how I know he’s too nice for me? Because after he said that, my brain thought, “Aw, that’s sweet,” and then my ladyparts were all, “We would fuck him senseless right this minute.”

Even just from a hug, I keep smelling him faintly on me. GOD, I love that.

I don’t think I’ve ever NOT kissed a guy on a first date. So before Friday, I’d officially gotten my ass spanked in a Ford Focus on a first date more times than I’ve not kissed someone. (That is to say, once. And also, shut up.)

But again, I texted my friends after the date and said, “I’ll go out with him one more time, but from his texts and this first encounter… I don’t know, I don’t think he’s One of Us.”

I know I don’t want a relationship just yet, but it’s not terribly promising if I don’t think we even click well enough to be friends. But we’ll try one more time. At a minimum, I must kiss.

“Greasy-Haired Douche Lightning” wasn’t as catchy.

Watching #GreaseLive, and just thought it was worth remembering that Danny Zuko was a total fucking douchebag.

“Say ‘crack’ again.”

It’s weird, I think I’d remember smoking crack. Especially since I don’t even know HOW to smoke crack.

I guess maybe I Googled it?

Because it seems at some point I agreed to go see my family for Easter, and now that the time is upon me, crack seems to be the only rational explanation.

You know the drill, guys: Family = wine = Jesus. May your battle wounds be minor, your chosen numbing agents effective.

And may you also have candy.

Godspeed.

Perfectly rational excitement tally: Waffles, 55%; Man, 45%

Perhaps my new favorite sentence ever: “I have an ice cream & waffle date tonight.”

Hee.

Um, no, YOU have a Giles fetish.

Seen in an OkCupid profile: “I am definitely a stereotypical academic in the sense that I love wearing corduroy blazers and holing up in ivory towers.”

*blink* OMG. Take me, sir. Take me hard.

The only things we have in common are burritos, mushroom hatred, High Fidelity, and grammar, but let’s be honest, I’ve based relationships on less. I dated a guy for 8 months because we could both quote George Carlin.

Plus, another of his favorite movies is Josie and the Pussycats, so he clearly also enjoys dumb, fluffy things.

Hello, Professor. I will be your dumb, fluffy thing.

I hate everything except Samantha Bee

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Ladies and gentlemen, my soulmate…

First OkCupid message from a man without a profile pic: “hi i am greg lets have dinner”

OMG! Greg! Absolutely, let me accept this invitation from a faceless man! Despite the fact that if you read my profile even a little, you’d see me say I’m sure as fuck not meeting a stranger without messaging and texting until I feel comfortable doing so. Especially one without a face.

Good work, Greg. In fact, forget about dinner — let’s move in together and have 14 babies right now. Do you want, like, a scripty font on the wedding invitations? I always think those are hard to read, so I think we should probably go with something a little more simple, right? I know Times Roman is basic, but I’m SUCH a sucker for it.

And, listen, my flowers are going to be dark purple with pops of white, so make sure the accents on your tux coordinate, OK, sweetie? Luuuv youuu.

Elbows Guy: The Final Chapter…I think…

Email to a female friend, subject: “Be proud.”

Me: “When I wrote the email telling Elbows Guy I don’t want a second date, I revised a few different ways, but each time made myself remove the words ‘I’m sorry.'”

Friend: “I am VERY proud of you. Well done.”

Me: “I didn’t even lie and say I met someone. I just said I didn’t want to.”

I ran the email past a male friend first to get a man’s perspective, to ensure it wasn’t douchey but didn’t leave room for debate. He said the email would be fine for a normal guy, but told me with this dude, I may get asked for an explanation.

Five minutes after I sent the email, I got a text from the Bitches Get Shit Done group: “You will survive being uncomfortable. You may even be better off for it.” Kelly Sue DeConnick is the aunt I’ve always wanted.

P.S. I just saw that he looked at my LinkedIn profile yesterday, which is not at all disconcerting. I think it’s locked down to just my network, though… Probably…

P.P.S. I underestimated him. He replied politely and even thanked me for NOT doing The Fadeaway. I mean, he said it in a way that made it sound as if all women do that (and maybe they do, to him), but I’ll still give him a point for it. Only one, though — he’d lost 50 points for heckling my dry elbow skin while all the moisture he needed was IN MY VAGINA, so he’s still netting out at -49.