An Unexpected Redemption Story

I owe it to someone to patch up his reputation a little bit. So despite my desire to burn all men at the stake just now, I'm swallowing down my pride and admitting to a case of hasty judgment.

A couple of days ago I got a text from Mr. Entrepreneur, much to my shock. It was a late night text on a Friday, just asking how I've been. After everything that happened with Mr. Charming only a week prior, I wasn't exactly amused. Frankly I was pissed. Where does this guy get the nerve, thinking I want anything to do with him? Why do all these guys think they can treat me like shit and I will still jump at the chance to see them!?

Of course, after I calmed down a little bit, I remembered my promise not to ghost anyone, and I remembered that over all, Mr. Entrepreneur really didn't seem like such a bad guy. He just made a few mistakes and ultimately wasn't the right guy for me anyway. So I sent back the bare minimum "Fine, thanks," kind of reply. He didn't get the hint. Or maybe he did, but he had a little more tenacity than I'm actually giving him credit for. Remember: we're repairing his reputation here. Much like Lizzie Bennet in Pride & Prejudice I am not always a reliable narrator. I tell you stories from my own heavily biased view point. Either way, I got a second date ask out.

>>>> That's good! Would you want to hang out again? Or you weren't really feeling it? Haha.

Little Black Dress Moments

"So trust me when I say if a guy is treating you like he doesn't give a shit, he genuinely doesn't give a shit."

I wish I could say "Here endeth the lesson." But the truth is, this is where it begins. I am pretty sure that I opened my very first post on this site with this quote. It's a personal favorite of mine. But even with this life-altering approach to dating, it's still easy to get swept up in the temptation of making excuses for a person you're attracted to. That said, I pride myself that there's only so far he can go before I stop making those excuses.

Mr. Entrepreneur and the Dud Date

[If you haven't read my blog in a while, I hope you'll read this post because in addition to a general dating etiquette reminder I shouldn't have to make, the last couple of paragraphs also contain an important safety PSA that I really shouldn't have to make.]

For those of you waiting on the edges of their seats: Yes, I ended up going on a date with the Uber driver, Mr. Entrepreneur. The title of this post probably tells you everything you need to know, but I'm going to tell you all about it anyway.

I ended up postponing our date after I got in from a red-eye and had been yelled at by one too many passengers that day. I wasn't feeling much like being around other human beings that day, and I figured I wouldn't be giving Mr. Uber a fair chance if I went out with him in this mood. Besides that, he'd mentioned recently having had a nasty sore throat, and I figured he'd be relieved to get a little extra recovery time. (That, and I won't pretend my desire not to get sick myself wasn't a contributing factor. It definitely was.)

So Thursday night at last we met up. To Entrepreneur's credit, he chose a good location. I happen to be a big fan of Antique Taco in Wicker Park, and if you haven't been, you should definitely give it a shot. (Pro-Tip: Try the rosemary margarita. And if you're on a first date, I can say as someone of moderate-to-slightly-above-average alcohol tolerance, I drank one of these and didn't feel anything, so they're not dangerously potent when paired with food.)

Emotional Roller Coasters & Uber Drivers

I'm an emotional wreck sometimes. Just thought you should all know. Sometimes, literally in the course of 24 hours, with no extenuating circumstances, I can wake up in the morning thinking "I'm so glad I'm single; I hate dating because it's the actual worst," and end the night lying in bed crying (literally crying. I am not exaggerating this to you.) because "I am so lonely. Why won't anyone love me?"

If you think it sounds exhausting, confusing, and difficult to keep up with, imagine living it. It's a mess. And as of this week, I have a new rule: