i think i grew up with a girl in your tinder photo

While enjoying MLK Day off from work, I was lounging in Lafayette Park with another single girlfriend and decided to take the plunge back into the world of online dating by reactivating my Tinder App and downloading the Coffee Meets Bagel App! I’ve decided to put out into the universe that 2014 is the year I meet the man of dreams!

Since downloading (and shortly thereafter deleting) Tinder over the summer, I was pleasantly surprised by how many more cute and normal guys I was able to swipe right for! I will note that the Ass Slapper from a couple months ago did pop up – he got an instant “PASS!”, That being said I went on my first ever Tinder date this week and have a second scheduled for the following week!

I will admit this week’s date was my first date in the city with a guy I actually found attractive. I was nervous! I was excited! I was ready to fall in love!

Overall, the date was good! Fancy cocktails in the Upper Haight and shared Midwestern roots, sense of humor and taste in music. I may have had some slightly unrealistic hopes of falling instantly in love (thank you early 2000’s rom-coms) but thank goodness for my friends bringing back to earth. On the plus side, he did not appear to have overactive sweat glands.

2014 is off to a pretty good start!


to snap or not to snap, that is the question

Recently while I was back east for my college’s homecoming weekend, I reconnected with an acquaintance from my sorority days. If I’m being completely honest, he was in my ex-boyfriend’s fraternity. Sorry I’m not sorry. Staying true to sorority girl form, this college reunion involved $1 Bud Lights bottles, a ruined pair of shoes and a bar bathroom BOMO (Mom – that’s short for black out make out).

Once my post-college, mid-twenties, two day long hangover wore off girl logic kicked in – what if this guy I had known in college and reconnected with 5 years later was “the one”? For the next couple days we texted nonstop, all day long, every day. In true Jackie fashion he lived in another time zone. I guess I’m just a sucker for long distance romances. We got to know each other the best way one can – through the magic of iMessage and the most unrealistic representation of ourselves via Facebook. Hello, untag button!

Things started to take a turn for the scandalous when I received my first shirtless selfie. I’ll admit we both frequently spoke about fitness and being healthy, but when photographic evidence turned up on my iPhone I felt a bit confused. Was I excited? Was I embarrassed? Is this normal? Was I expected to reciprocate? Can someone please school me on the proper dating protocol with Snapchat and selfies? Does anyone know a 14 year old girl who can teach me how to take an attractive selfie?!?!? I decided to let it slide and politely thanked him for the picture and let him know that I was not that kind of texter.

As our romance graduated from days to weeks, so did the frequency of the shirtless selfies and Snapchats, this time with captions!! “Abs poking through”. Awkward. They weren’t. Another time a photo was sent at nighttime on the east coast while the windows in the background clearly showed sunlight. Was he stockpiling selfies on skinny days? I’ll give him that one – totes brilliant!!

I felt even more pressure to reciprocate after he told me he “really appreciated we could both trust each other” with sending hard copies of pictures via iMessage. Was he serious? I was sharing everyone single picture with my roommates. Obviously I was expecting him to do the same. Momma didn’t raise no fool!

Things finally came to a head when, you guessed it!!! NO, not a dick pic. Get your mind out of the gutter. I received TWO shirtless selfies in one day. I’d ran out of cute and semi-polite ways to respond. In truth, the distance had more to do with the end of this could have been relationship, but my poor iPhone had seen enough and so had I.

let’s get this sushi and roll

It’s been a while since my last post. I’ve been daunted by how best to recap my second date with the ass slapper. As if that couldn’t be the most bizarre date ever, it got worse. Much worse.

 In the days leading up to our date he lead me to believe that we’d be dining at none other than In ‘n Out. I tried to reason with my inner fancy gal, a date at a fast food restaurant could be retro and “cute”. Yea, fuck that. An hour before we planned to meet he asked if Italian was okay? Sure! Oops they don’t have any reservations, sushi okay? Sure! Because there is only one Italian restaurant in the 7×7 mile radius of San Francisco – it books up fast, y’all!

 Sometimes I like when a guy takes charge and orders on my behalf, but when I’m not really given any choice in the matter it pisses me off. My date took care of ordering everything including not one, but two adult beverages. In the midst of edemame and sharing that his mom’s new husband is some sort of arms dealer in NYC, he began wiping his forehead with his napkin. It must have gotten so unbearable because he was forced to excuse himself from the table to get control his sweat glands.

 Let the records state that it was not hot in the restaurant. In fact, it was one of the first chilly, fall is just around the corner, evenings in the city.

 Upon returning to the table he admitted he was a bit nervous. I felt bad for the guy, he truly had nothing to worry about because there was no way in hell this relationship was going anywhere. We picked up the conversation where it had been left off, but a few minutes later he interrupted me mid-sentence to propose that we get the rest of our food to go and go back to his apartment, so he could shower and “get this situation under control”.

 Yes. The mid-date shower. Oh, you haven’t heard about it? It’s all the rage in Europe.

 I was so shocked, I didn’t think as the word “okay” came out of my mouth. I was afraid I just signed up for a one way ticket to life of sex trafficking. While he paid the bill, I looked around the restaurant helplessly. Surly someone must have overheard. They didn’t.

 Surprise, surprsie his apartment was directly across the street from the restaurant. He sat me on the couch, poured me some gross rose, which I didn’t drink until I saw him take a sip. No date rape for this girl! While he hopped into the shower, I sent off a group text to my friends – needless to say they were horrified and worried. I considered leaving while he showered, but the poor guy just got out of a 10 year relationship. That would surely put him off girls for years. Note to self: be less considerate of strangers who invite you back to their apartment. After donning a sweatshirt (umm weren’t you just sweating up a storm?) and picking up the rest of our meal from the restaurant he behaved like a gentleman.

Maybe he could tell I was uncomfortable because he proposed going to a bar to continue our date. It was there that I discovered that he shared custody of his dog with his ex-girlfriend and the worst blow of all… he went to my college’s rival school. I should have known all along he was no good.

what happens when your roommate finds you a date on muni

We all have that one good friend who’s fabulous at always keeping her single friends in mind and her eyes peeled for eligible young beaus. My roommate just happens to be this kind of gal who has a knack for matchmaking. Besides her extensive group of friends and connections in the city, she often comes home with tales of cute men at the gym or coffee shop. However, it’s rare she speaks to them on my behalf. So I was intrigued when she actually had the lady balls to strike up a conversation with total stranger on the Muni. She must have been pretty taken by him to offer up her single roommate. Thus, I agreed to go on a blind date with a man my roommate met on public transportation.

I must report the overall date went well. He piqued my interest enough to agree to dinner later the same week. As a good Midwestern, gentleman he offered to walk me home. Maybe it’s my terrible track record of real “adult” dating, but parting at the end of a first date is the absolute worst! Saying goodbye to a person you just met a couple hours ago, after wine and some reveling conversation is nothing short of awkward. After an announced and clumsy attempt at a first kiss, I turned to head home. At the same moment he swung his arm up to give me that bro like swat you see dudes give each other – You know what I’m talking about. I don’t know where he was intending to land his hand. Back? Waist? Who knows? But slap he did my side hip/butt region. Actually, let’s be honest – it was my ass. As I walked home I couldn’t contain my giggles. My ass had been slapped at the end of a first date. I still can’t decide if this is a positive or negative end to our evening.

I’m looking forward to finding out at Round #2.

three steps to change your life

So it’s been a while since my last post. The guilt of being a slacker blogger has definitely been weighing on me, but I kept telling myself nothing worth posting has happened in my life. At first thought this seemed totally and utterly depressing, then last night it occurred me it couldn’t be further from the truth! In fact, I’ve taken a well-needed time out from being a gal about town to focus on myself, get healthy and recalibrate what truly makes me happy.

Step 1 – “Hibernation” Okay so I’ve been a bit of a shut in as of late. Getting my “house in order”, catching up on much needed sleep and doing things that I truly want to do – reading, errands I’ve been putting off, spending the night on the couch watching “Scandal”. It’s been nice planning to stay in and reveling in it, rather than suffering from the dreaded FOMO.

Step 2 – “Dry July” Oh yea… no alcohol or eating like a frat boy for the month of July. Don’t worry – I have 5 (well, now I’m down to 2) cheat days to tide me over. But ya know what? It’s actually been a nice break and I haven’t really noticed the impact on my social life. True, I’ve had a couple low-key weekends as of late, but when I have gone out to dinner, trivia night or a 4th of July picnic I’ve enjoyed not feeling like slug as I get ready for bed. Not drinking has also helped me better gauge when I’m just drinking to drink, and not because I’m actually enjoying myself. Overall, Dry July has help make special occasions feel that much more special and appreciate them even more!

Step 3 – “Happiness is a moment”. If I was happy 100% of the day, everyday well that would just start to feel normal. I’d probably turn to drugs, extreme sports or snorting wasabi up my nose to feel something. Reflecting every night before bed on a moment that made me happy or grateful has helped me to recognize that even though I’m not in a picture perfect spot right now, happiness and joy still exist in my day to day life.

What I’m thankful for in the month of July: I’m so grateful for my friendships old and not so old. The support and motivation I receive from these women remind me that I’m not alone in my feelings, fears or the city.

The next couple weekends bring visitors and with them, hopefully some good material for upcoming posts!IMG_3691

an open letter to the men of tinder

For last couple weeks I’ve been grappling with a pretty crucial life decision – should I join Tinder?

For those of you who aren’t familiar with Tinder (Hi, Mom!) it’s a dating app linked your Facebook profile. The people at Tinder are pretty smart and angled their app to feel more like a game than a dating site. Based on a user set location and age range, Tinder pulls up photos of guys, as well as a brief personal summary. Basically, it gives you the simplicity of going off of “just looks” without having to read though a lengthy profile. You simply check “Yes, I’m interested” or “Hells to the NO”… and on to next dude! If you and a guy both say you’re interested in each other… a messaging window opens up that mimics iPhone texting and you’re free to chat, minus the hassle of giving your phone number to a rando.

So last night I bit the bullet and signed up! It’s been a fun 18 hours and at the very least it certainly helps boost one’s confidence.

However, I do have a bone to pick with these guys and their poorly chosen photos. Don’t you realize that you’re given 5 photos to post and thus must strategically choose photos which best display what you look like while conveying some sense of your personality or personal interests?? HELLO!?

When all 5 of your pictures show you in a pair of sunglasses I’m going to assume your hideous – everyone looks good in sunglasses. When every photo shows a group of guys and I can’t pick you apart from your bros, I’m going to assume you’re the Turtle (Earlier season. Turtle got cute in the last season of “Entourage”) of the group. The same goes with photos where you’re making a goofy face IN. EVERY. SINGLE. PICTURE. or staring out at some wide open space. You’re not that insightful. If you were you would have realized this before I had the chance to blog about it. And don’t get me started on the bathroom mirror, camera phone selfie – it’s insulting!!

Phew… that feels good to get off my chest. Hopefully thing Tinder things leads to some matches and entertaining posts!

And finally, posting a photo in which you’re standing next to a girl in a wedding dress… I mean really? REEEEEALLY!?!?

without a doubt

Being a transplant in the city of SF naturally one of my first courses of action was to find some freaking girlfriends! I’m in my first Active year of the Jr. League and just attended my first committee meeting which kicked off with everyone’s favorite activity – the icebreaker. Ughhh… I’d rather demonstrate a physical talent, than answer a question about what American Girl doll I had growing up (Samantha). Whatever. This time we had to share our favorite past vacation, as well as one upcoming trip we were most looking forward to.

Maybe because most of my recent trips have been traveling back east to visit family and friends, or because the last true vacation I took was with my ex-boyfriend’s family… I was coming with up nada for this question.

So I thought hard. What was the last fun adventure vacation I took? A trip to London with one of my best friends during the summer break of college, of course! Two 21 year olds staying with a flat of A&F employees (another story for another post) let loose on an European city… what wouldn’t be memorable about that? And what about a trip I am most looking forward to? Why a reunion with my BFFs for Homecoming weekend. Naturally.

As we continued around the room it was hard not to notice that pretty much everyone listed a honeymoon or anniversary trip as a past/future trip. And honestly, I don’t blame them. I sure as hell hope my honeymoon (with Henry Cavill) is the best freaking trip ever, but it was difficult not to compare my super single state to their state of matrimony.

Recently I’ve felt content and accepting of my life where it is now. But I’m approaching my 27 and a half birthday next week, and I couldn’t help but feel that something was a bit off.  As I continue to roll on down the track closer to 30 it feels a bit weird not be 100% established in a city, in an apartment, in a relationship, in a career, in a hair color… until I came across the below list.

Presenting “The (Unofficial) Top 10 Things Women in Their Thirties Regret Having Done in Their Twenties”

  1. Marrying the wrong chap
  2. Starting their careers too late
  3. Losing their lissome figures (damn you Cheese Plus!)
  4. Having kids too soon
  5. Not marrying the right chap when he asked (accepting applications)
  6. Living the lives their parents wanted
  7. Running no risks
  8. Pursuing no purpose
  9. Never quite believing in themselves (who me?)
  10. Sticking with a series of chumps, dickweeds, and half-wits, all of whom ended up borrowing money

So while I continue down this path of figuring out myself out, at least I can take comfort in that I’m still writing my story, still meeting and dating new people, trying new things, pursuing crazy opportunities, I can 100% sure when time comes to establish myself as a Mrs. I’ll be 100% sure it’s the right decision at the 100% right stage of my life.

I’m off to LA for a girl’s weekend and my outlook couldn’t be sunny.

sorry i keep saying the f word

Oh the blind date… at one moment so full of hopes and dreams, the next crashing, burning, I need to go feed my cat, destruction. Since moving to the city I’ve been initiated into this realm of dating awkwardness. Mostly by well intentioned friends with my best interests at heart, and recently a few completely misguided, “Hey, you’re both single, but I have no idea if you have any thing in common beyond living in the continental northwest” attempts. I’m always open to the idea, because “You never know, Jackie!” but hours before the date I’m either on the brink of tears or canceling. However, an interesting thing happen last week when one of my best friend’s set me up with a man from my Midwestern roots – I didn’t care!

Not that I was a rude date, I just didn’t care if I looked pretty, had the perfect outfit or said the right thing. I was myself. Now don’t get me wrong, I’d still done my fair share of Facebook stalking, “what if…?” wondering, but I also knew that this guy was only temporarily living in San Francisco and would return home a few months later. While there still was a possibility he could be my Mr. Right, I went into the date actually hoping to get a friendship out it, without the pressure of finding my next boyfriend. And you know what? The unthinkable happened – I had a good time on a blind date!

I’ve noticed a lot of my friends, me especially, put a crazy amount of pressure on ourselves to have it all “figured out” by our late 20’s. I sometimes feel until I have all of my laundry done, my resume updated, an apartment out of an West Elm catalogue and a Henry Caville look-a-like boyfriend (FYI friends who want to set me up on future blind dates) – I just don’t have my shit together. It’s absurd.

The biggest lesson I’ve been learning these past few months is to be a little kinder to myself. I’m pretty great, well most of the time, excluding Monday mornings and post late night pizza bingeing. Why shouldn’t a guy want to take me, the real me out on a date? No one is going to make me happy, until I can make myself feel good about where and who I am right now. We’re all on different trajectories, towards different milestones and stages of life. If we can learn to be a little more patient and accepting of ourselves, as we are with others, maybe just maybe we can all go on at least one mildly, pleasant blind date.photo

where i am in this exact moment

The holiday weekend began like any other weekend in the city with plans for brunch, catching up with friends, a little caretaking back at the apartment and in the back of my mind the possibility of a meet cute with Mr. Right.

Over the last several weeks I’ve been making the effort to transform my usual analytic, trouble spotting ways into more fun seeking, go with the flowing, I can do it mentality. Although, I’ll never be able to sever my Type A ties, surprisingly this time it’s actually working! I feel your skeptical eye roll. Let me explain.

Maybe this time around it’s due to finally being in a place in my life I feel content. In all honesty, I think I was just over worrying. I have wasted so much of the last two years focusing on what I don’t have: the right job, the right city, the wrong hair color (don’t get me started on my brief stint as a ginger) and of course: complete and utter lack of a man I found remotely attractive, also the man I used to have. I’ve overlooked the things in my life that I truly do appreciate and would miss if they were gone. And that is truly a waste.

I supposed I can credit this new, revived me on the thousands of dollars I spent on analysis over the last 18 months or much more likely, I can credit the series finale episode of “The Office” where Andy oh so wisely said, “I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days before you’ve actually left them.”

So I guess one of my hopes for this past weekend didn’t pan out… but, I did dance like an idiot with my roommates to African drumbeats, I did go on a blind date with my pant fly down the entire time, I did bask in Friday happy hour sunshine at the immense base of the Transamerica Pyramid, I did get asked out by man I can only describe as the real life inspiration for Adam from HBO’s “Girls”, I did take a challenging and refreshing yoga class and I did have an amazing time all the while!

Lesson for the day kiddos: let’s all enjoy the good old times now, in this exact moment.


happy hour to happily ever after

At the start of a new week it’s time to get organized, motivated and most importantly start making plans for the upcoming weekend! Heaven forbid a gal finds herself on a Friday night with nothing to do but her paint her nails and empty the DVR. Don’t get me wrong, we all need a weekend off to rest and reset, but come Friday at lunchtime my hopes for meeting my next love are about as high at the heels I’m rocking to happy hour.

 By mid-week, I without a doubt, will email a girlfriend something along the lines of “the city is ours for the taking”, “let’s make ourselves talk to at least two guys”, “I’m only buying myself two drinks, any third or fourth beverage a man to purchase for me”. But when I find myself actually out and about, my motivation dwindles like a bar post happy hour. The cause? The usual excuses I tell myself 1.) There’s no one I’m interested in and 2.) I’m more focused on catching up with friends. But in all honesty, I’m lazy and a bit scared.

 Perhaps my job the last 5 years plugging away at a computer, iMessaging, Facebooking and now blogging!! has caused irrefutable damage to my social skills? Which coincidently is the chronic eye twitch of those in their mid-to-late twenties. Again, maybe it’s the “rules” getting the best of me. While I impatiently wait for Mr. Right to spot me across the bar, smile and send over a cocktail, there could be a fun bunch of guys at the neighboring table. Or is it the doubting little voice in the back of my head? Who likes to remind me I’m over dressed for an SF bar or not as pretty as that trollop who just sauntered in. Or finally, do I feel a bit guilty asking for what I truly want – making the first move, being aggressive, taking the cake?

 Regardless of my hang ups, let’s cheers to taking control, being open to change and maybe, if we’re lucky, a new contact in our iPhone!