I hadn’t been to a WeWork Berkeley Happy Hour in awhile. I sat by myself and texted a friend. I looked up and saw an attractive guy.
Me: Long haired muscular Asian boy alert! I love WeWork.
Friend: Haha, go say hello.
So I did. We had a good conversation so I asked him out. He said yes. We texted back and forth for a couple of days planning the date. He was kind enough to ask me if I had any dietary restrictions. I googled him and there it was on his LinkedIn profile. He graduated from Cal in 2015. I thought he was probably around 30. Nope. He probably had no idea that I’m considerably older than him. I wondered if I should alert him. I decided that a date was not a marriage proposal and to stop overthinking.
The day of our date. He canceled. It’s not me it’s him, he said. It bummed me out. It bummed me out just because I liked talking to him and had put myself out there.
Being young is hard for him. I’m not being sarcastic. I get it.
It amuses me that the following search terms have led people to Pretty as a Peanut. I really like it that someone besides me has a crush on Audie Cornish. When I googled “pretty urethra” I saw my first cock plug. Ouch!
rebecca bunch in love
the simpsons sex
purple rain recipe
a fuck date
audie cornish pretty
don’t want to be text buddies
2016 pencil pumps
“he came in my mouth”
most dateable ethnicity
lunch first date
peanut as a pet name
i stopped giving a fuck
oakland friday night
lsp i’m beautiful
sister fucking dogs
cafe colucci ethiopian
katie fisher day
black dicks make pussy cream
family guy ted cruz
what to do on saturday in oakland
i have not talk to her yet
pinnuts on my urethra what i do
jake mclaughlin blindspot
whst to eesr to outsidelands 2016
My friend L sent me this inspirational quote from the very sexy Ira Glass. He says that you have to fight through when you’re writing doesn’t have that special thing you want it to have yet. Even though I’m just beginning, I was super excited to see my 3rd ever published story in The Bold Italic show up at the the top of “In the News” this morning on Google, if only for a short time. I captured it for posterity. Go Warriors!
Why is it not easy to buy condoms in Berkeley, California? It’s easy to buy crack in Berkeley, California. I walked into CVS to buy condoms today and found them locked up in a cage. I pressed a button and over the loud speaker I heard, “Someone come help miss sexually active buy the big box of Durex Extra Sensitive Extra Lubricated condoms to assist with her family planning needs” or something like that.
Google defines family planning as, “the practice of controlling the number of children in a family and the intervals between their births, particularly by means of artificial contraception or voluntary sterilization.” Umm, I’m just trying to have protected sex no bigee. Why is this section called family planning if you can also by flavored lube and vibrators? Why the fuck are condoms locked in a cage? And pregnancy tests too, that’s just rude. I’ve actually been lectured by the store clerk with the power to unlock my First Response before.
I refuse to believe that the sex stuff is locked up at CVS because people steal it. Do people steal a lot of tampons too? The experience made me grumpy. I got the big box so that I don’t have to return anytime soon.
My therapist K is fucking great. With her help, I’m becoming a better dater. This week she told me to focus on figuring out what I’m looking for in a partner and only date men who fit the bill. That’s not exactly groundbreaking advice but this next part is. She told me to write about how I would feel when I’m with my ideal guy instead of creating a laundry list of qualities and characteristics. Woah.
The mistake I make again and again is that I feel attracted to people whom I deem “special.” I meet someone who’s handsome, released an acclaimed album, and has a great job at Google and I’m besotted. This next part is even worse; I proceed to put him on a pedestal. I’m down here waving like an idiot and he’s way up there. People hate pedestals. People on pedestals have to fall.
What I’m really looking for now, after my past missteps is someone with whom I can build a life, someone who is my equal. I want to build up that pedestal with someone and then stand on it together. Unfortunately, being in my later 30s means that these guys are harder to find. Most of them know it too.
So, how would becoming Mr. and Mrs. Pedestal feel? I would feel like he likes me as much as I like him. He’d make me feel kickass and inspire me to be even more kickass. I’d feel secure knowing we’re a team. I wouldn’t feel batshit if I did something thoughtful for him. I know the, “she’s batshit because she just gave me homemade jam” look all too well. I wouldn’t have to worry about when to text, or if to text, or the text of my text, or the subtext of my text.
I would feel he’s interested in what I have to say even if it’s about boring codes on boring government paperwork. I would feel special knowing that he trusted me and felt like he could be himself with me. I would feel like him paying for things was not somehow synonymous with masculinity or chivalry. We’d both pay for stuff as we could because it was for us. Finally, I’d feel sexy because he’d want to do sexy time as much as me.
I can’t resist free food. TGIM! Community Cereal Bar? Thank you WeWork, I will consume a bowl of the delicious Oatmeal Squares. New Member Brunch? Munch munch. Lunch and Learn? Nom nom learning. There’s a lot of deliciousness around my office building, which is probably very appealing to the undernourished 20-something boys around but I should resist. Free food also results in people gathering and sometimes socializing.
It’s different than other places I’ve worked. Teaching meant that in the staff room there was always something sugary or cheesy or sugary and cheesy available to snarf on recess breaks. We weren’t particularly social about this bingeing unless it was someone’s birthday. Nothing good comes from the staff room at a school. It’s all snark and snarf.
When I worked at a synagogue, if I wanted free food I would have to stay for Shabbat services. My boss bought me Diet Coke when I was a consultant until she realized if it were free, I’d slurp up at least 3 a day. It’s not Google with its unlimited supplies of artisanal chicken salad sandwiches and coconut water but WeWork is my own free food utopia.
Actually, I don’t blame WeWork for making me fatter. I just blame working. It’s sedentary (at least I can walk to work), stressful, and not about me. Watching what I ate was actually easier for me when I was unemployed because I had the time and desire to stick to a routine of healthy eating and working out. My mother who recently retired has had the opposite experience. Work kept her busy and therefore not eating as much during the weekdays.
I’ve been here a year and have only been offered 2 free donuts, so there’s that at least. Donuts are the death nail.
Are Donuts the death nail?