Diet Coke Dealer and I have still been seeing each other, although not as frequently as I had once hoped. Mercury Retrograde was a doozy, and had me going back and forth on whether it was completely over or if I should woman up and have The Conversation. Knowing that I’d soon be gone for 10 days of family vacation, I decided on Sunday that I needed some answers in case my Grandma asked if I was ever getting married.

After a delightful Crazy Rich Asians date (my plan, obvi), we were walking down my block when we were greeted by some very loud, very danceable West African music (a DCD fave) [I also don’t know what the exact genre is called, so apologies for being culturally insensitive!]. We could see there was a party going on, and the guy hanging out at the side gate confirmed. DCD asked if there was dancing, the guy said yes, and suddenly we’re in a stranger’s backyard being offered food and drink at what we later discover is someone’s birthday party. We were there for about an hour, where we danced (after I more or less chugged a few cups of prosecco), mingled, and forced some delicious Nigerian rice into our already-full stomachs. In classic DCD fashion, he wowed everyone with his dance moves, to the point where people were recording videos and asking where he was from because he couldn’t possibly be American. LOL

But the best part of our party-crashing was how every woman we met (all two of them) immediately asked if we were boyfriend and girlfriend, or married. We awkwardly responded “I don’t know,” and he asked if he was in trouble. I told him he wasn’t but that we’d obviously be discussing it later. Thank you, fairy godmothers!!!

When we got back to my place, I asked what all the Nigerian women were dying to know: “So, am I your girlfriend? Are you my boyfriend? What are we?” He said he didn’t know and that he’s hesitant to don those titles because he knows his level of communication is already poor, that being a boyfriend would raise those expectations even higher, and he doesn’t want to disappoint. Momentary disappointment aside, it was refreshing to hear him acknowledge his lack of reaching out, because it meant I wasn’t crazy. Once we moved past expectations and got into feelings, we both agreed that we like each other, we want to keep hanging out, and we’re somewhere in between full-fledged BFGF and sporadic-Hinge-dates. He said he refers to me monosyllabically as his “girl,” which is fine by me because I’d certainly rather be considered his “girl” than his “friend.” All in all, I’m pleased.

Finally, perhaps the most exciting update of all: on Wednesday, he washed his dishes.


3 more weeks, 3 more sleepovers. Also, it turned out that neither of us are able to go to The Cape this week, so nevermind!

I presume everything is going fine, but sometimes he’ll go dark for days on end. I’m currently in a he-ignored-my-last-three-texts-so-i’m-gonna-remain-silent-indefinitely standoff. Last time, he texted after four days, and I felt extremely victorious for holding out. It also helps knowing that I am, objectively, the catch in this pairing. Or is that just what confidence feels like?

The thing is, he’s fairly irresponsible (occasionally forgets we have plans, or will ask to hang out day of), and I can’t tell if that’s due to a lack of interest or a lack of what I consider to be basic adult social skills. Not to mention the fact that every dish he owns has been sitting dirty in his sink for months. Nobody would ever consider me a clean freak, so the fact that I think he should toss the lot and give up on owning dishes altogether means something. At least he has cats to keep vermin at bay. And like, all boys are filthy and forgetful, right?

He said he wants to come to my student loans payoff party, but I’m not getting my hopes up because all of the above. Oh yea, I just paid off my last student loan. :D

TLDR: Per usual, I have no idea where I stand or “what we are” and there are enough red flags to keep me from asking, “am I your girlfriend?” So, limbo it is until further notice!



Diet Coke Dealer and I have had two sleepovers since I’ve been back. I (hardly) helped him install his air conditioner, and he volunteered to fold and put away my jeans while I was last-minute tidying. I told my boss about him on Friday because he had recently told her dad about me, so I had to get in front of that. She was appropriately astonished, but not upset; I’m actually just one of many crazy coincidences between the two of them.

He’s mentioned a few times that I should come to his family’s Cape Cod house, so we’ll see if that ends up happening—I’ll be just a ferry ride away when I’m on Martha’s Vineyard for 4th of July. In the meantime, I’m waiting (pretty patiently, if I do say so myself) to see if he’s capable of reaching out to plan a date.




It’s been less than 2 weeks, and Diet Coke Dealer and I have been on 4 dates. On Saturday, we did an escape room with 6 strangers (all male nerds). We escaped with 3 minutes to go! Plus, it was kinda fun to show off my bossy genius side. We were already in Chinatown, so we got hot pot for dinner, and he did all the ordering. Did I mention he’s fluent in Mandarin??? Code cracking and Mandarin, are we a power intelligence couple? He very sweetly invited me to spend the night, even though I had secretly already assumed and packed a toothbrush—a Girl Scout is always prepared!

We saw each other again on Monday because on Sunday morning I told him I’d be gone over Memorial Day Weekend. But before you get so excited, I’ve definitely been the one initiating these dates. What can I say? I love to plan! God help me. On Monday, we got dinner in my neighborhood, and then we hung out at my apartment for a bit. He didn’t sleep over because school night, duh!

So anyways, I should probably mention that we had sex on the second date, and since I do have a magical IUD, we’ve been raw doggin’ it since (but only after I got chafed to bits by the condom the first couple of times). I obviously asked him if he had STDs and HIV before I let that happen, and he said no, and I basically had to believe him. But, because I’m a risk-averse health freak, I couldn’t let all this go on unregulated. On Monday, postcoitus, I requested that since we’re now freely sharing each other’s bodily fluids, maybe it would behoove us if we didn’t share them with anyone else. He got all cute and tried to get me to say that I was asking him to be exclusive, so I romantically reiterated the importance of safe sex with a designated partner, and he responded in kind by agreeing to not swap bodily fluids in an unprotected manner with other people. He added in the “unprotected” loophole, so I’m… still cautious.

It’s always been fun when we’ve spent time together, and I don’t actually have any reason to believe he’s not being sincere, but we don’t really text (haven’t heard from him since he left on Monday). I’m going on vacation tomorrow, and we’ll see if he reaches out to make plans when I’m back. Sigh, I like him.

P.S. I still haven’t mentioned anything to my boss, but I’ll definitely start considering it if I ever see him again.


#76 It’s a small world after all

Friday morning, I started talking to a new guy on Hinge. In the afternoon, he suggested I join him and his friends (along with his sister and cousin…) at a Brazilian dance bar that night. The other option would be to “be normal” and meet for coffee at some point (oh, he’s sober). But he doesn’t go out often because he usually works weekends, and I wanted to check out this bar, so I rounded up a willing wing woman and told him I’d be there. (As soon as we got to the bar, we randomly ran into another wonderful wing woman of mine, and I felt popular as ever :D)

The bar was super loud, which made it nearly impossible for me to hear anything anyone was saying. Not exactly ideal for a first date, but ideal for forcing two new people to dance together. He is white as can be, but has moves for days. He made me look like shit—which doesn’t happen that often in my white-washed bubble. Ever since I danced with that model in Cuba, I knew I could never go back to awkward, boring grinding; so could this be the rhythmic boy band member of my dreams? Perhaps. We danced and made out and I left on the early side, but we made plans to see each other the next day.

On Saturday, it was raining and I felt weird about asking him to color soberly, so I decided that we should see a movie and get dinner. The movie was about Hasidic Jewish lesbians, and we held hands for 70% of it, including the sex scene. We ate dinner (I had one glass of wine), and then he invited me to meet his cats. As we talked and kissed on his couch, we discovered a connection: his mother is married to the father of my boss. They’ve only met once or twice, so I doubt she’d consider him her stepbrother, but that is definitely what he is if we’re getting technical. Small. Fucking. World!! Plus, it made me feel more comfortable staying the night knowing that he wasn’t a completely random stranger.*

We had a lot of fun, and it was pretty nice not having to wonder if he was doing/saying stuff purely because of alcohol’s dubious influence. But of course, that does not necessarily preclude him from being a player/asshole, so my guard is still up. We talked about hanging out next weekend, and I can only hope he’s a man of his word.

Also, he’s comically addicted to Diet Coke, but at least it’s a better vice than the hard stuff!

*To all my coworkers: this absurd discovery is currently a secret, so please keep it to yourselves.



I went on an unremarkable date two weeks ago. He was bald and had unsightly teeth, but was nice to talk to.

Last week, I saw a very funny play with Piano Man. I was pretty unsure if it was a date the entire time, but nonetheless we had a delightful time together, and briefly kissed at the end. However, he’s going to Arkansas for 8 weeks, so I doubt I’ll ever see him again.

Last Saturday, I had a nice time with an interesting enough guy on a rooftop bar and then at a barbecue restaurant (with my new plants in tow). I would see him again, but I’m dubious about there being a spark.

Tonight, I just got back from a date with a guy who pleasantly surprised me with how smart he is. I get the vibe that he’s not that interested though; and I don’t blame him because I was wearing baggy pants and my hair was Hermione-level poofy (book not movie, obviously).

Slim pickins, y’all!



I went on two more dates with the Piano Man from Arkansas. But before that, my friend who is also from Arkansas demanded to know everything about this guy, claiming that everyone in Arkansas knows each other. I shouldn’t have doubted her, because she does know him: he was in plays with her best friend in high school.

Anywho, on our second date, we drank a lot of beer and played skee ball before getting dinner and a margarita (school night). On our third date, we went to a party hosted by our mutual connection (not a school night). Afterwards, I agreed to go all the way to Queens, because he said there was a really weird bar there with Beanie Babies. It turns out they were just regular stuffed animals, not Beanie Babies, and I purposefully ordered the grossest drink on the menu (something with ginger and olives). Then, we went to his apartment, and he fell asleep while we were hooking up (post-clothing, pre-sex). So, I got a car home at 2:30am because I’ve decided I really don’t like when guys fall asleep on me, figuratively or literally. Plus, I had brunch plans later that day and Queens is FAR. We talked a bit at the end of that weekend, but it didn’t seem like we were really going to hang out again. But a few days later, I got invited to a new nerdy-comedy play being put on by the (actually very talented) nerdy-comedy musical theatre group I used to geek out over and also work for in my past life. I had already discovered that Piano Man knew about and appreciated this semi-under-the-radar group, so I decided to invite him (also because I knew no one else would ever go with me). The show is a whopping 3 weeks away, so tbd if we hang out again before then.

At this time, there are no other leads. There’s a very cute guy at work, but the jury is still out on his orientation.

#73 IUD-Day

I write this in bed, 3 hours after getting my IUD, just as my chocolate covered coffee bean begins to take effect.

To the people with female reproductive organs in the crowd who don’t already know this: it fucking hurts to get an IUD inserted. The worst of it is over pretty quick, but not as quick as you’d like. It was a new, shocking experience of nerve endings. And it’s kind of creepy to know that it’s because a choking-hazard size piece of plastic just took up residence in your uterus. But the moderate cramping that continues for the rest of the day will ensure you keep that bizarre reality top of mind. I can only say: I better have a LOT of (hopefully, good to great) sex over the next five years.



So far, I still have not run into Waffle at work yet. (Oh, did I mention the makeout boy from the dance floor is from Belgium? Hence…) But remember, we have each other’s number; we’re just equally not contacting them.

On Friday, I got drinks and dinner (but mostly drinks) with some friends before going to a bourbon tasting at a wine shop/liquor store. One of the assistants/pourers/but-like-still-part-of-the-drinking-and-discussing was pretty cute, but definitely young (though clearly old enough to drink, which is all that really matters). My friends drunkenly egged me on to talk to him at the end, and so I did. While I asked questions about alcohol, the other assistant/pourer/etc. joined in the conversation, and we all ended up talking about HQ Trivia. Kind of odd, but it gave me the opportunity to get their numbers (PLURAL even though I only really wanted one, but still a fun achievement) by inviting them to download/play (but mostly so I could get some extra lives). So yes, I have recently swapped numbers with two new male strangers. Am I going to do anything about that? Probably not.

Because I already had two first dates on the books:

On Saturday, I met a Hinge guy at the Brooklyn Museum for a 2pm date. Definitely not my preference, but at least it forced me to get some culture in. It was under two hours, and I knew it was a ‘no’ from minute 1.

On Monday, I met another Hinge guy at a bar, thank god, and it was pretty much lots of laughing from the very beginning. He’s a pianist from Arkansas, and we had first matched talking about……wait for it……recycling, of course! It was great fun and when we got to the subway, his train was right there. We had no choice but to hurriedly kiss because missing the train is the worst. We will likely hang out again, so that’s promising.

In surrounding possibilities, my dear friend is trying to set me up with her friend’s brother. I basically know nothing about him, except that he has a brother; and I have provided three photos for my friend to share. Hopefully this email nudges her to pass me some intel so that he’s not the only one who gets to form fantastic assumptions based solely on appearance.

But really, the last thing I want right now is anyone anywhere near Cramp City. Goodbye!


I’ll start by saying that Neighbor Boy and I haven’t had sex since before my last email. And we haven’t even kissed in the past 3 weeks. Why, you ask? Well, let’s take it back to when I was going to “crack open a can of worms.” That can of worms was referring to the 15-20 prescription bottles he had casually displayed on his nightstand the first time I slept over (date #3). I finally worked up the courage (maybe date #6 or #7?) to ask why there were so many in such a particular place, and he chalked it up to being messy and lazy. I obviously investigated and they were anti-depressants, so I naturally decoded that he has depression. About six weeks ago, he told me he was on a new cocktail of meds (officially revealing his depression to me even though his bottles were out and proud since the very beginning), and that it had completely killed his libido. This was fine though, and we were still having plenty of fun. But after a few weeks I realized we weren’t just not having sex, we also weren’t even kissing or cuddling, and it was hard to distinguish him from the rest of my friends, or to distinguish me from the rest of his friends. But he would still manage to pop up at the perfect moment and make it seem like everything was “normal.”

After a few weeks of confusion and uncertainty, I finally decided today that I needed to bring up that it felt like he didn’t seem interested and that we should just call it quits if he wanted. But then he texted me to grab a drink—and I knew he was on the same page. I met him after getting dinner with my friend, and we had a beer. As we were walking home, he initiated a conversation about how he wasn’t looking for a romantic/sexual relationship with me. We continued the conversation at his apartment briefly (read: I chugged the beer he poured for me as fast as possible), where I got him to admit that he couldn’t completely blame this all on the medication and that he did enjoy spending time with me, but he also doesn’t know how to separate his feelings from the medication and that he didn’t want me waiting around for the medication to figure itself out. It was very nice to be able to talk like adults, but I also felt tears threatening to show themselves in my eyes, so I left pretty abruptly. I knew the end was coming for a while, but that never stops it from being sad or disappointing. Since knowing each other, we haven’t run into each other at ALL in our neighborhood, and yet somehow I know that we’ll run into each other constantly now that we’re no longer hanging out. He better not show up at my pool this summer.

I do, however, have one lighthearted story to share. 2 weekends ago, I was at my favorite dance bar with my danciest friends. I told Neighbor Boy to come join us, but he was lame and didn’t show (red flag). Then, I just so happened to run into a guy that works on my floor and that I’ve had a mini crush on for years from afar. I struck up a conversation, and we ended up dancing, making out (sorry, Neighbor Boy), and swapping numbers. We texted a bit that weekend, and I haven’t run into him at work YET, but I know it will happen when I least expect it—probably on the same day that I run into Neighbor Boy in the subway. I initially felt bad about making out with a stranger after having committed to being exclusive with Neighbor Boy, but I no longer feel guilty now that he revealed that he hasn’t really given a shit about me for the past 6 weeks. What fun! At least I got some attention.

In other news, I’m finally getting an IUD next week. WHAT FOR, RIGHT???