DAY 177

So it wasn’t a date. The challenge is still going strong, you guys, don’t worry! I misinterpreted what could have been a date. One could assume going for dinner is a date, am I right? But about half hour in, my other friend showed up and made what was kind of an awkward hangout less awkward. It’s kinda silly and embarrassing that I let myself get excited for a few hours before we met up. In all honesty, in the short time we had between the two of us, I went from thinking this could be it to... What was I so excited about? I don’t think we have any honest chemistry. He’s just an attractive guy who happens to like a few cool things I like. As I got to know him, it felt like it wasn’t flowing overly well. I felt like the more I shared about my interests, in particular, my favourite podcasts, I felt like I was that crazy, weird, single, feminist girl than I thought I ever was. Not that he didn't like me or anything, just that.. That's probably not what he's looking for, if he's looking for anything at all. He is hard to read. I don’t think it’s ever gonna be a thing because I don’t think we have enough major values in common, and this was exactly the perfect timing to find that out. On a not date sort of get together. I think the biggest thing we have in common is our mutual friend. And I have this suspecting feeling like he might be in love with her. Even though she’s dating a woman. Hmmm...

The dumbest part of all of it was how my brain started reacting when I thought there was a chance this was him asking me out. It went to all these weird, stupid places that are the reason why falling for someone is so scary. My imagination completely runs wild. And that is probably where my downfall is. Creating expectations out of thin air and thinking that this could be it. I could be done looking. I don’t want to fall victim to the adrenaline and excitement of what a pretty looking man can provide. There’s gotta be more there. I’m glad I figured it out this quickly. It’s not always that fast. I used to ignore signs of a bad match because I wanted to believe I could make anything work. I’m very adaptable. But I shouldn’t be. Just cause he’s hot? And fairly progressive? Doesn't make a husband. I have to remember who I am and never forget. I’m a poly woman. I’m not going to succumb to monogamy. I reminded myself over and over on the drive there. What if this is a guy who wants monogamy? Then it’s a bad match. I’m not compromising. My mind jumped way too far into the future. As it does. It’s so frustrating. Why can’t I just take things one inch at a time? Why does my mind run 50km ahead of me? I wondered immediately like... What if he wants kids? He seems like a guy who would... I know it’s crazy to think that, but I went there. Not gonna lie. I talked shit about kids to him, in a jokey way, to gauge his thoughts. He didn’t seem overly impressed by that. I then felt like “oh god, did I just fuck that up?”

I think I did everything right though. I needed to be that me. Express my distaste for children, cause you know what? I don’t like kids that much. I talked about how Fight Club is “incels the movie” and he shifted in his seat. It was just... Clear to me that it wasn’t kismet. The kind of shit that movies make you look for. It wasn’t flowing hardly at all. I was relieved when my friend showed up. It helped relieve the awkwardness that was building. I ordered a fucking pho. I was slopping and splashing all over. It was stupid. If it was a date, I was the bad date. I was the one who was being the least bit sexy.

And I’m fucking glad. I’m disgusting you guys. I can look real hot sometimes, but the reality is, I’m not a dream girl. I’m gross and weird and dorky. I’m not embarrassed to talk about my own farts and poop. I’m not gonna tell you I’m “not like the other girls” because I’m pretty basic. But really, I’m just over trying to be super impressive cause trying to be super impressive is like setting myself up to fail. I might as well be the real me. The real me pours a shit ton of hoisin in her pho till it’s almost sugary and fucking sucks at chopsticks. The real me changed her outfit 8 times before she showed up and still has a stain and a rip on her pants. The real me thinks Fight Club is the worst (I used to like it cause I was dumb) and also think Joe Rogan is overrated and insane(why do men like him?!). And also wants to be a fucking drag queen and show her cellulite ass to a crowd of strangers. The real me needs to get her pussy checked and is going to kink events even though she’s vanilla AF and will probably just stand around being uncomfortable. The real me has a crush on Antoni from Queer Eye and wants to be as obnoxiously adorable as Jonathan. The real me needs to finally sweep her god damn apartment and scrub down her shower but I’m way too fucking lazy. Also I want to call you Daddy but mostly while you make me dinner, rub my feet, tuck me in and then LEAVE. The real me makes custom ASMR videos for lonely men who want to buy me lingerie and fall in love with me while I pretend to find them interesting. The real me still needs to do last year’s taxes and will take her overflowing laundry basket to friend’s houses so she doesn’t have to pay $4 a load. The real me will just spray her apartment with febreze when it smells funny and showers every 3-4 days. God, what guy would ever dream me up? No one.

And it’s possible that no one will ever want to date this. I know that sounds sad, but I am not hurt or bothered by that concept. If no one wants to date this, at least I like me. I’m happy to be all these things. I’ve never been happier before, as commented on by one of my FWBs. I’m exactly where I need to be. I don’t need to impress anyone, all I need to worry about is how much they impress me. And if it clicks, it clicks. If it doesn’t, then don’t try to force it. Just let it go. I’m fucking busy. I’ve got a YouTube channel, a crochet business, a stage to prepare for, and a comic book to... eventually draw. I’ve got fuck buddies to fuck, and friends to brunch with, and a Netflix account.

Tonight was a fellow coworker’s last day. She might be coming back because she was an intern. Her and another amazing coworker and I just sat in the kitchen, drank after work, grabbed A&W and just talked about so many things. I just adore them. One girl is 22 and the other is a mom of teenage daughters. We are such a strange trio, but we always have so much fun. I need more of this in my life. Just a bunch of friends laughing, drinking and talking about life. That’s it. When I look back on life, it’s simple things like that memory that will stick out. These are the people who like real me, as gross as I am. And B, and M, and C, and O, and S and L and all the other cool people who already like real me.

I’m so close to the halfway point guys! 6 months! I have so much left to do... I can’t stop it yet. I’m not done. I got asked out again by another older guy on fet I met at a munch and I just had to clear it up. I am not dating. No dates. Single, babeeeee! I need to get more of my shit together first.

Also, remind me to clean my apartment. Feck.