Tonight I’m going on a date with bachelor #4 from match.com. So far, I’ve met 3 different guys, all without success. Not even friendships evolved from these encounters, unfortunately.

I’m feeling good about tonight. My expectations are low, and it’s not hard to meet low expectations. If anything, I’d like just to hear about someone else’s experience on the sight. I didn’t really talk about that with my other dates. I’m kind of aiming for friendship and if I miss and hit romance, that’d be great. Maybe that’s what I should have been doing all along, but I never said I was an expert at anything dating related.

Jenny and Shoshana are convinced I need to start approaching the guy next to the guy I would usually go for. They’re probably right. For example, engaged dude I vented about in my previous post had a nice friend with a hilarious personality. As far as I could tell, his only flaw was that he looked like an old lesbian.

Another thing I need to work on is over thinking everything. For example, I’ll spend an hour writing and rewriting a 3 paragraph email to a potential “match” and I’m still never satisfied with the end result. I should start emailing as I speak and end it at that. This blog is doing quite well so far. I’ve hardly backspaced over anything with the exception of typos.

Oooo! This is exciting. Still on the topic of men–but men in the real world rather than the cyber one. I stumbled upon this bookstore in Glendale last night called Books on Brand and it’s completely used books. I found an old copy of Player Piano which I’m stoked about, and even better, the ADORABLE boy working the counter told me it was great–his second favorite to SIRENS OF TITAN WHICH IS MY ALL TIME FAVORITE VONNEGUT BOOK. How amazing, right? Unfortunately, I didn’t nurture the conversation as much as I could have and left simply thinking I’d be back, and he’d be mine.

So I’ve got an hour and a half until this “date.” I keep telling myself and my friends that this is the last one. Hopefully because he’s amazing, but also because if it doesn’t work, I don’t know how much more of this I can handle. It’s like constantly being interviewed and who wants that? I get tired of talking about myself. Of course, as I type this, another seemingly eligible bachelor has “winked” at me which I will undoubtedly respond to, although even though I haven’t met this Jeremy fellow I’m going out with tonight, I still feel like that’s kind of sneaky. I’m not a juggler.

In other news, my bangs are way too short still and I really wish they would grow out. I honestly feel like wearing them this short seriously impairs my ability to “get guys,” although I do think bookstore dude thought I was cute. Hell, I was probably the only thing under 30 to walk in the door all day. He would have thought I was cute if I had a bag on my head.

So back to Jeremy, my “date.” Well, he edits film trailers, lives across the street from Trader Joe’s, is 5′9 or so he says… hopefully that doesn’t really equal 5′7, not that that would be horrible. I mean, Marco was super short and I fell so hard for him. And look at Bar and Sho. Annnnyway. He has spent much time in the bay area but was born in New Jersey…. I think his time in the bay area gave him a rugged sort of appeal, though it’s more of a smart rugged than a dumb rugged. That makes sense, right?

Shiiiiiit- Tilly and the Wall just came on my itunes. It’s been a long time.

This is the first blog I’ve posted in aaaages. I don’t know how one goes from being an avid blogger to not being able to complete one coherent paragraph, but somehow it happened to me. In all honesty, I can’t say things will be different this time around. This may be the only post I make for a very long time. So it goes.

With lack of better things to write about today, I’ll tell you of some decisions I made last night regarding who is not allowed to talk to me (don’t even look at me for that matter) at a bar starting now. If any of the following describe you, I will not talk to you:

You are 4′10, wearing a gold chain thicker than my wrist, and named Yobany. I’m sorry. It’s just never going to happen.

“Goth” is a word you use to describe yourself between telling me about your T-shirt company, asking me what Hipsters eat, and insisting I am part Asian, despite my insistence I am not.

You are masculine, attractive, sarcastic, funny, charming, and gay. Dirty trickster.

You are staring at me all night and engaged. Does your fiance know you’re out staring at other girls?

You could be described as a hipster–oh wait. I don’t have to worry about you. It has already been decided by valid sources that hipsters do not approach girls. Thank God!

Alright, alright. Enough of me thinking I am better than the above. Tonight a bunch of us are going to Knott’s Scary Farm–so excited! Apparently it’s really a thrill. People sneak up and scare the shit out of you then chase you around with chainsaws. Could I be more excited? Probably not.

That’s it for now… I’m starting with baby steps.

I’m going to keep posting on-the-body pictures whenever possible. Hopefully the quality will improve…