Off-Season

I have officially cut myself off from the opposite sex. I am so unbelievably jaded at the moment that there is no use in me actively trying to date.

Unless we’re cool on some platonic level you are not getting my time or energy. I don’t have the emotional bandwidth to deal with disappointment right now. The idea of having “no expectations” is impossible and “low expectations” are a joke. I WANT EVERYTHING UNDER THE SUN REGARDING LOVE. How the fuck am I supposed to aim low?

I can’t deal with that bullshit right now.

Law always checks on me. He asks if I have any dates lined up for the week, if I got hit on over the weekend, how it went down and if I have anything of even slight potential on the horizon. He never believes me when I say I the bench is clear and the stadium is closed. There is no starting-5-lineup, we’re in the off-season right now.

He’s too smart for that, “YOU DIDN’T GET HIT ON AT ALL THIS PAST WEEKEND?”

Real talk: I get hit on… ALL. THE. TIME.

No humble bragging. No overt bragging. I’m just sharing facts. It happens frequently and I swear on my life I do not purposely seek this type of attention. I go out to have fun with my friends. I go out to dance and unwind from my long ass fucking week. 

I never make anything out of it. I rarely give out my number.

I’ve been incredibly frustrated when it comes to my interactions with men recently.

The game is so weak. The effort is non-existent. They’re looking for instant gratification. 

I told Law: They only want to take me home. No one wants to take me to dinner.

These dudes never have any real interest in me as a person. They have no genuine intentions of getting to know me. They only want to know what my vagina feels like—immediately. 

My personality is so much fucking better than my vagina and I have an A-1 vagina for sure. (Go ahead, quote me on this.)

You’re probably saying I’m meeting men in all the wrong places, that I need to do wholesome activities or put myself in situations around men of more substance. Maybe… However most men fall into 2 buckets: 1. Already in a relationship or 2. Perfectly fine being single.

Yes, there is a third bucket, a minority of single men looking for wifey. I can’t find these fuckers. I can’t find one who likes me as much as I like them.

I FUCKING GIVE UP. I’M GOING TO GO THROUGH A SPERM CATALOG TOMORROW AND PICK OUT ONE WITH A GREAT DESCRIPTION.

*drops mic* *end scene* *boy bye*

City Hall

I habitually tell myself that I’m ok with the idea of never getting married again, as long as I at least get knocked up—I’m good.

But it’s a lie.

The concept of a glorified baby daddy isn’t good enough, although I’ll take it if that’s all I can get. Because of this thing called a biological clock I will happily settle for baby daddy, key word: settle.

The truth is I want to believe someone can love me enough to promise “forever” again, whether or not he (or I, for that matter) can really stick to our commitment of “till death do us part.” 

So I have it all played out in my head. It’s all figured out.

It’s a random Tuesday afternoon, because I ain’t got shit to do but fall in love with you. We’re at City Hall, eloping. You think I’m joking, right? The extravagant Leo with a thousand friends who needs to celebrate EVERY SINGLE THING? I’m joking?

Nah, serious as fuck. We’re eloping.

The only person I told was a photographer.

I don’t care about the backlash. I don’t care about a lavish ceremony or reception, been there—fuck that. We’re going to the Maldives to have sex for seven days straight, that shit is expensive, I’m saving our money. The bottom line is I already I experienced a conventional wedding and unless you personally require the excessive party, I prefer to go without. No disrespect to my previous experience, it was everything I ever wanted and more. It's just that item is checked off my list, no need to repeat the effort.

However if you think you’re going to be dressed casually to this event you’re foolish. You’re in a navy blue suit with a black lapel. I’ll wear something along these lines, but off-white. HEY—I’m still a fucking Leo (despite the elopement) and I hired a photographer for a reason.

My vows will be inside joke, after inside joke, after inside joke. You’re going to laugh and cry at the same time because I’m your favorite writer and my barz are straight fire.

I will cry disgustingly ugly. Embarrassingly ugly. Normally I try to hide all public outbursts of emotion, but today is a special occasion—obviously. That’s why no one else is invited. JK. Lightweight.

That’s about as far as I’ve gotten with this story, they’re only soft plans, I’m flexible. If you want to rock a skinny tie instead of a bow tie, that’s cool with me. The Maldives are non-negotiable tho.

Victories

I spent Saturday night on Polk Street with Melissa, drinking and getting heavily negged. The concept of negging is simple, it’s when you use a back-handed compliment in order to garner someone’s approval. For strong-headed women like Melissa and myself sometimes an insult will get you more face time than actual flattery (WELL—if you’re attractive and funny). Why? Cause we like witty ones who keep us on our toes. Thankfully I didn’t wake up hung over.

The next morning I left the city to make my way down to a baby shower for one of my oldest girlfriends. My high school clique is made of seven women, including myself. I am the only one divorced and childless. My current lifestyle is a distant departure from their day-to-day lives. Fortunately they NEVER make me feel judged by the untraditional route my life has taken and for that I am extremely grateful.

Not gonna lie though, the juxtaposition of our lives still trips me out. To be fair it’s not just them, it’s the contrast between my life and a majority of women my age.

It’s apparent when I go through IG and I see you celebrating the birth of your second or third child. It’s obvious when I like your post commemorating your fifth wedding anniversary. Or it’s as simple as smiling at a photo you’re sharing of an “usie” of your adorable little family on regular Saturday afternoon.

I feel genuine happiness for you, I promise.

However they are not victories I can relate to. Alas we are on different timelines. My current state of singleness has distanced ourselves from being relatable as peers. We are in different chapters of our lives and that is not a negative thing—it’s just the truth.

I can’t pretend I can catch up, at least at this pace. As much as I would love to have a wedding ring on my finger and a bun in the oven that version of myself is somewhere still far off into the future (not too far, I hope). For my mental and emotional health I can’t focus on what I don’t have. As I’ve said before, your grass is not greener than mine, the color is all the same—it’s just growing at a different speed.

The purpose of this post was not to seek pity or to defend my single shenanigans, I just woke up one day and realized how fucking excited I was for a girlfriend who is expecting her first child with her live-in boyfriend. I’m ecstatic for another one who just passed a 5-week dating mark with a new man in her life. They are the attainable success stories providing me hope. Their victories are mine.

Can I call "NEXT" though? I’d like to turn the page and start that chapter too. 

Status: Good

TO BE COMPLETELY HONEST—IT WAS MUCH EASIER WRITING THIS BLOG WHEN I DIDN’T KNOW WHO WAS READING IT.

I’d go off the dome, zero fucks.

I didn’t really care what the feedback was because I was in a terrible place in my life when I started it. I would’ve probably barked back at anyone with some “‘fuck you—I’m strugglin’ mentality.” Not that I’ve really gotten any negative commentary regarding this blog, I’m just saying…

Despite all this confidence I speak of—I still wonder if everything I say gets misconstrued.

I talk big game. I am a woman of polar opposites with the finest line drawn through the middle. I have dozens on dozens on dozens of unpublished posts that I am way too self-conscious to post.

I swear... It was simple when I spoke to an imaginary audience. 

But fuckit, right? I’m already 3 years deep into this beast. Let’s keep going. #TWSS

Also, on some real-talk-honestly-level-status-100 I am at this point in my life where I am fine.

You hear that? I am OK, better than “ok”—I’m good.

As a creative person being good is low-key boring. That sounds sad right? I’ve hit this emotionally steady point in life and I come across a mild version of writers block. What can I say that I haven’t already said? What can I write that doesn’t sound like narcissistic vomit?

IDK.

I’ll figure it out. Standby.

Job HuntING

I’m kinda really good at job hunting. I wasn’t always so smooth with finessing my way through the interview process. I used to return home crying to my ex when I first entered the real world. I had such thin skin that he had to tell me to man-up (frequently). So here I am, many years later, using one job offer to leverage the other and scrutinizing over the better career path because these choices really do decide my future.

I was only unemployed approximately 3 weeks, however I accepted a job offer sometime in the middle of that. Technically my ass was only in limbo for a week, but who’s really counting? I am. Please note my methods work well for me as a designer, when you have a portfolio instead of just a resume the job search is probably a bit easier (as long as you have a good portfolio) because your work is tangible.

Disclaimer: I can’t help you if you’re weak.

Contact an independent recruiter

I’ve worked with mine for yearrrrsssss, I’m talking post-grad early. Often times companies partner with recruiters to weed out candidates. Sometimes they try to sell you shitty or extra boring jobs, just refuse those. They’re out there job hunting for you when you’re not, they get paid when they’re able to sell you. You are a commodity to them, might as well benefit from it if you can. Also some companies work exclusively with recruiters, thus leaving job listings unavailable to the public (Sephora corporate works this way). 

Holler at your network

Contact any previous recruiters that may have gotten in touch with you in the past, no harm in sending quick messages. Check LinkedIn for any leads with former coworkers. Trade recco’s with coworkers who can sell you better than your own description. I have no shame in asking for these.

Apply for jobs only a couple of times a week

Apply for just about any job you’re interested in during one long sitting. Make a detailed list of all the positions you applied for, include the original link for the job description in case you have to revisit it for an interview later. Relax for a day or two or three, then repeat the process. You’re not going to miss out on any job listings by waiting a couple of days, searching on a daily basis is stressful as fuck. THEN… forget every single position you applied for, it only matters if they get back to you for an interview. Don’t get attached to any of these. Next step: wait (super) patiently.

Apply for jobs you are slightly over or under qualified for

If you’re applying to big companies it’s likely that they have positions that are constantly becoming filled or are opening. A good internal recruiter will look at your resume/skills and will recommend another position available if they have the need for you. Your job is to get your ass seen, so apply. I did this for two companies and my method worked, no fail.

Don’t settle

I got this single piece of advice the most during my job search. If you have the luxury to avoid a shitty commute then avoid it while you’re still in search mode OR negotiate the possibilities of WFH. Push for the top of the salary range. Seek out exactly what you want for the next steps in your career. I’m not saying you’ll get everything you ask for, but you might as well focus on what you really want before you step foot in the next thing.

Be ready to be “on” at any given moment

“Now” is always a good time to talk. Be prepared to have impromptu calls or interviews. I turn on my professional voice/personality like a light switch. Stay ready, if you’re not… practice makes (near) perfect. You’ll be amazed how well you start to sound after so much repetition.

When it comes to the interview…

• Do your homework. Research the company. Research the people interviewing you. HAVE QUESTIONS TO ASK (this is more important than you think)
• I have always believed in a good walk-up song. Do you know what a walk-up song is? It’s the song that plays when the batter leaves the on-deck circle and comes up to bat. I have a dozen of these, no joke. Hype yourself up with a good walk-up song, you know—like this one. Yes. I do this shit. I do this shit all the time.
• Get there early. I’m a firm believer in punctuality, even when it comes to casual plans. Get to an interview EARLY. Go get coffee nearby, go wait in the lobby, IDGAF—just sit there. Personally I am always lightweight sweaty when it comes to interviews. I am a victim of stress sweat, even when I am just on my way, so I like to get there early to cool down.
• HAVE A GOOD HANDSHAKE (with strong eye contact). I hate a weak handshake. 
• If you prep yourself enough to feel confident you can usually kill it. So kill it.

Good luck out there.

Why aren't you out?

*Phone rings*
*Answers*
Law: You're not busy watching the game (Warriors, Game 2) right now? I figured you'd be out watching, like at a bar or something.
Me: Nah... I'm trying to be healthy these days so I'm avoiding that excess drinking. I'm just watching at home.
Law: Really? REALLY? Why aren't you out?
Me: *Pauses* OK FINE. NO ONE INVITED ME TO HANG OUT TONIGHT, SO I'M JUST AT HOME.
Law: *BUSTS OUT LAUGHING* There it is.

I am a huge fan of men calling me out. Huge fan. Keeps me real.

I keep it 100 like I'm running a fever. #Aubrey

Parallels

Dating :: Job Hunting

Uber is the fuckboy that sounds and looks good. He’s the kind of guy one of your friends already knows so you ask for a casual introduction. You know, something super chill. He’s young so you still get to lend a hand in the process that shapes him. You can earn equity with him quickly, getting stock early (pre-IPO). However Uber is hard as fuck to reach. He’s not responsive when it comes to emails and leaves you hanging every time. Uber is frustrating as hell—you could be so good together. If only the motherfucker was more interested in seeing what you have to offer. Uber is either sleepin’ or swiping through candidates too quickly that exceptional ones get lost in the shuffle.

FitBit is the 35 year old guy who checks all the boxes. He’s the in-house/client-side position you have been seriously considering switching to for a long time. Originally he was never your type, he always seemed too boring, too safe—but security sounds so appealing these days. He’s willing to meet you 100% in terms of compensation, while still providing bonuses along the way. FitBit is the handsome dude in your photos, he’s the name next to your “in a relationship status” that you publicize so proudly. The only turn-off regarding him is that he seems to have too many steps in his candidacy process and you're pressed for decision-making time. 

Campaign Monitor is the dude you didn’t think you wanted but who still seemed like a solid option. He was just practice for the date you were actually excited about that’s scheduled for next week. However Campaign Monitor surprisingly turns out to be legit as fuck. He undeniably has smooth ass game. He’s dangling opportunities in front of you like traveling to Australia and London. He's willing to give you everything you want—plus things you didn’t know you wanted. He’s sold you and now you’re frazzled because you thought you wanted FitBit, but this dude looks sooooooo gooood now.

High Five is the young start-up who doesn’t live in SF. He’s actually in Redwood City and you don’t even have a car. We’re talking “long-distance” relationship. You decide to take the date regardless because he’s off CalTrain and options are worth looking into as long as they seem attractive enough. He’s cute, fuck it. However when he starts talking you realize how poorly he fits into your criteria. You’re willing to compromise on a few unfavorable things here and there, but he’s already confessed at least 2 deal breakers early in the process. Instinct told you it was ok to pass even before the date, however you’re on that never-ending search for the infamous unicorn D—thus causing you to look where you normally don’t. 

MRM/McCann is your comfort zone. He is your type, defined. He always likes you. You always like him. He’s the relationship you know well, you understand his mechanics and his process—but you said you want something different this time around. The problem is this guy always offers you short-term love and only extends it when he feels like it. Suddenly you’re over it, you want a full-time offer with all of the benefits included. Even though MRM isn’t what you want it’s still difficult to reject the offer. You just turned down really good short-term D… Holding out for better, good for you.

For the record: job hunting >>> dating

Confidence

Melissa always tells me I’m the most confident woman she has ever encountered. 

I constantly want to disagree with her because she knows more people that I can count and well—surely there has to be some other female out there who is equally, if not more confident.

There must be… but I guess it’s a subjective take on the matter.

Her perspective used to make me uncomfortable. Does that mean I’m too arrogant for my own good? Does that mean I’m extremely egotistical? 

Not gonna lie… Yes. Sometimes.

But arrogance and ego aren’t contributors to confidence, unfortunately for me they are the product of having too much sometimes. True confidence is about owning who you are. It’s about being secure with yourself and your abilities in general. That doesn’t mean I think I’m the baddest bitch around. I sure as hell am not. That doesn’t mean I’m not disliked, I’m probably annoying as fuck to some. I just know who I am. I like who I am.  

“Confidence is not ‘They will like me.’ Confidence is ‘I’ll be fine if they don’t.’”

I don’t apologize for my opinions. I’m not over here trying to figure out if your grass is greener than mine, it’s not. I don’t need to agonize over why certain relationships die, they just do, because of neglect. You don’t have to like me, sometimes you just have to work with me—and vice versa.

At this point in my life you’re either fucking with me, or not, and if you're not... I have zero desire to figure out why. We're too grown for that. Time is the most expensive thing in the world, I use mine accordingly.

I’d fuck with me heavy though. Just sayin. 

There goes that confidence again. ;-)

Make Paper, Not Love

I’ve had numerous people tell me they were proud of me for getting back on this dating horse. Numerous people… It’s kinda weird actually. I guess it makes sense because… 

Dating.
Fucking. 
Sucks.

It’s a difficult balance between finding the appropriate amount of excitement, expectations, vulnerability and self-protection. You must be somewhat vulnerable during the process, otherwise you probably aren’t looking for anything substantial.

After my first date with “Canada” a few told me I was allowed feel excited. I told them it wasn’t time. Previous experiences have taught me that I have a difficult time locking down date number 2. There’s no use in feeling excitement if it’s just going to lead nowhere. We got to date no. 3 and that was the end of that. 

Told. 
You. 
Guys.

I’m excellent at managing my own expectations. I like to think I’m pretty fucking realistic. My idea of a “fairy tale” is having someone understand what the fuck I mean when I reference Drake lyrics. 

Double cup love, you the one I lean on.
*hella heart eyes emoji*

I think half the battle is that the men I encounter aren’t looking for the same thing I am. It doesn’t matter if I have multiple men texting me. I have no real advantage going on these dates if these dudes just don’t seem to care about filling any type of void they have in the love department. They sleep on texts for hours, they’re texting various women in the process, they’re just going through the motions without any real end goal. 

I got goals tho, obviously.

I want that Sunday love back, the kind where you don’t do shit. That lazy Sunday love. I’m trying to replace something I once had. Actually, I’m waiting for something better than I’ve ever had, because after everything I’ve been through… I fucking deserve it and I’m trying to be proactive and patient about it, but it’s a frustrating process.

As much as I’ve complained about this the BAE-search is on pause at the moment, I need to focus on my livelihood. The job hunt is on full swing. Fortunately for me I’m excellent at finding a job, not so much at finding a man.

Gotta make paper, not love—at least for now.

THIS.

happy valentines day. free dl your boy, giraffage

P.S. NO. I'm not emo. Ok, maybe 30%. Maybe 50%.

Glass Half Full

Hi. Are you still here? 

I apologize. I’ve had a rough couple of weeks.

I got laid off from my job. I had the one dude I seemed to genuinely like in a long time tell me he was gonna go with another option (i.e. chick).

In result I’ve been accepting all drinks presented to me. I’ve been meeting up with anyone with goals to cheer me up. I’ve been sulking, feeling anxious and overall pretty shitty.

I think I’m over it—at least for now.

In some odd chaotic way I actually trust the universe.

I’ve been feeling complacent at my job for far too long. I knew it was time to start looking, I was just extremely lazy and comfortable to make moves. Thankfully my release didn’t come as a shock, I’m too intuitive for that. And when it comes to men… well, the universe is always right. Let them walk if they want to walk… the right one will stick around.

A1-Everything

This question keeps coming up lately, so… I’m just gonna address it:

“Kate, do you like Filipino dudes?”
*Pause*
*Thinking of how to phrase this as best as possible without sounding like a dick*
*Long pause still happening*

I am a Filipino dude.

I just happen to have a vagina, long hair and it takes me an hour to get ready on a good day.

In order for me to be attracted to a Filipino man he must top me on all levels. A1 status. Otherwise, I get turned off very easily. They usually have the same exact upbringing, interests, tastes, knowledge on pop culture, etc etc, as myself. Sure, I enjoy the familiarity… SOMETIMES… however it makes it more difficult for me to be impressed, to be genuinely attracted to them.

I seem like a prime candidate for Filipino dudes. I get the “Super Likes” on Tinder to prove it. I can have a legit debate with you on how “Friday Night Lights” is J. Coles best body of work. I’ll guess that “Late Registration” is your favorite Kanye album of all time (and I’ll get it right, BET). I can join you at the sports bar and comment accordingly at whatever is going on TV. I’ll have your mom & ate in love with me, immediately.

Unfortunately I don’t provide a “handicap” for my fellow countrymen. 

You’re on my level and you’re already losing. I know I said I’m a narcissist when it comes to dating but Filipino men are too close to home, literally. 

I’m not saying it’s utterly impossible for me to end up with a Filipino dude, I’m just saying he has to be A1-everything—unicorn status. 

I’m much more realistic these days so I’ve put my search energy elsewhere.

Besides, I really want to make beautiful half-Asian babies. ;-) That’s really what this is all about. JK. Lightweight. Nah, not joking at all.